Scanners II: The New Order (1991)/Scanners III: The Takeover (1992) Blu-ray review

David Cronenberg’s 1981 sci-fi/horror opus Scanners has long been considered a classic amongst horror fans, due in large part to the infamous exploding head scene that occurs during its opening. That effect (crafted by the legendary Dick Smith) has pervaded pop culture even to this day, giving the picture a hook of notoriety that has almost outshined the film itself. The concepts and abilities introduced in that universe practically begged for a sequel… and it got one. In fact, it got a lot of them. And for some reason or another, nobody seems to remember anything about them. I know people who watch the first film regularly, yet they had no clue any further films existed until (who else?) Scream Factory came along to drop a double dose of telekinetic madness on home video. The fact of the matter is that both of these films - Scanners II: The New Order (1991) and Scanners III: The Takeover (1992) – were unceremoniously dumped onto VHS in the early ‘90s, totally bypassing any kind of a theatrical release. It’s telling that they were produced within less than a year of each other. Truthfully, neither film comes close to matching Cronenberg’s initial vision, but each is kinda awesome in a “terrible ‘90s horror movie” sort of way. There also isn’t a single identifiable actor in either film, which might explain why no one was eager to pick them up for theatrical exhibition. A little gravitas can go a long way, you know? Still, the films do at least adhere loosely to some of the plotting set forth by Cronenberg, with Scanners II tying nicely into the first film via a minor, predictable plot twist while Scanners III takes a let’s-go-nuts approach and almost manages to become a cult classic in the process.

Scanners II: The New Order takes place ten years after the first film, introducing us to David (David Hewlett), a young man who has scanning abilities that he has trouble controlling because he lives in a major metropolitan city. All those minds “talking” at once create a lot of mental congestion in his head. He catches the eye of Commander John Forrester (Yvan Ponton), an ambitious leader who wants to assemble a team of scanners to help create a new order in the city. He’s been experimenting on scanners for years, doping them up with a drug called EPH-2 that’s supposed to ease their constant headaches and numb their abilities. But the problem is that it’s highly addictive, leaving most of his scanning team looking like drugged-out extras from the Forbidden Zone out of Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970). His latest find, a wanderer named Drak (Raoul Trujillo), is a volatile scanner who prefers to use his powers for evil; and Forrester needs someone who will play ball. He enlists David, and things go well at first until he learns that Forrester has intentions of eliminating the city’s top officials and inserting himself and other scanners in those high-ranking positions of power. David tries to get out, but Forrester sends Drak and another associate in pursuit. They learn David is hiding at his parent’s house, and they attack while David is out. His father survives, telling David he’s really adopted and that he’s got an older sister living in a cabin by the woods. David sets out to find his sister so that the two of them can storm Forrester’s compound and stop his insane bid to control the city.

The employment of drug addiction as a central plot point was popular in the early ‘90s. The first year of that decade alone saw this film, RoboCop 2, and I Come In Peace, all of which dealt with hardcore drug use and addiction in some way. The ‘90s were a period of reflection, when filmmakers looked back on the party hard days of riding the white pony in the ‘80s and turned the tide by showcasing the dangerous effects of drug abuse. There’s a clear allegory being drawn here by demonstrating how injecting EPH-2 wreaks havoc on the bodies of its test subjects. David, who remains “pure”, avoids these debilitating side effects by learning to cope with his abilities and focus them, rather than taking the easy way out by escaping into a drugged-out release from his constant pain. The notion of creating an elite scanner unit holds some interest, too, but those intentions are never fully realized. It really all boils down to David vs. Drak, which is a rehash of Vale vs. Revok from the last film. And the dude who plays Drak is no Michael Ironside. Forrester doesn’t make for an interesting villain because he’s just a regular dude hung up on power; he isn’t even a scanner. This, when you think about it, makes him pretty damn stupid, since he regularly abuses the exact kind of people he knows are capable of controlling the planet. Would you keep pissing off someone who can make your head explode? Right.

Don’t worry, fans, the series’ trademark cranial eruptions are present here. None of them even comes close to matching the intensity and HOLY SH*T!-ness of the first film’s opening explosion, but there are some mildly commendable effects shown here. Director Christian Duguay doesn’t turn this film into a frantic bloodbath, and there is a nice balance struck between furthering the story and satisfying the bloodlust of fans watching at home. I had hoped the climax would veer into a grandiose showdown between scanners – and it does to a degree – but things could have been punched up a bit more to increase the impact. As it stands, Scanners II is a decent, totally watchable sequel that expands upon the first film’s story while also managing to stand on its own thanks to some new ideas. It’s not great, but it’s good enough.

Scanners III: The Takeover, on the other hand, is a blissful slice of absurdity. The film completely ignores the events and characters of the previous films, only retaining the concept of Ephemerol and its effects on unborn children. At the onset, we’re introduced to Alex (Steve Parrish) and his sister, Helena (Liliana Komorowska), both of whom are scanners. Scanning is a known trait in society, and Alex is goaded into using his powers as a party trick to impress drunken friends. But as he’s playfully pushing his best friend across the floor using only the power of his mind, someone bumps his shoulder, causing Alex to lose focus and mentally shove his buddy (dressed as Santa) right off his balcony high above the city. The event devastates Alex, so much so that he decides to flee the country and become a monk somewhere in Thailand (sadly, no Scanner Monk spinoffs have followed). In his absence, Helena becomes the sole heir to their father’s pharmaceutical company, a company which happens to produce EPH-3, yet another experimental drug that is intended to alleviate the constant pain scanners suffer. Sure, it’s not even close to being ready for human trails, but Helena doesn’t care so she slaps a patch on her neck to let the drug take effect. It works, but there’s the unfortunate side effect of it making her totally psychotic. And this is where Scanners III gets fun – with Helena using her incredible powers for all kinds of nasty, hilariously wrong antics. As you’d expect, Alex is the only one who can stop her, leading to his return and combat with his mental equal.

You’re a fan. You’ve been watching Scanners films. And you’ve been thinking, “Why haven’t I seen someone use scanning to make their boss do an embarrassing dance in front of a potential client?” Wait no longer friends, because Evil Helena has way too much fun with her powers. Annoying pigeon making noises nearby? BOOM! Someone points their finger in a threatening manner? EXPLODED! Don’t like the doctor’s diagnosis? BLOW HIS HEAD UP! Helena manages to figure out that she can scan people through the television, allowing her to influence a talk show host and his guest into canoodling on stage. And it works on VHS, too! So, now she can broadcast a scan signal to everyone in America. The film’s story is absolute crap, hardly interesting. But it more than makes up for that by unleashing a flurry of nasty little gore gags. One of the best deaths in the movie occurs when someone gets scanned underwater, resulting in a crimson explosion that rises up from the depths like a nuclear test. And there isn’t even enough time to discuss the Thailand kung-fu scanner fight. Suffice it to say, this film runs wild with generating new ways for a scanner to totally destroy people. It’s ridiculous from about 2/3 of the way in all the way up to the end credits. If only they’d had this pace right from the start, it could have been Ninja III: The Domination (1984) epic.

Both films come home with the same a/v specs - a 1.78:1 1080p transfer (which would be the original aspect ratio debut for both titles), as well as an English DTS-HD MA 2.0 stereo track. Scanners II exhibits a heavy layer of grain throughout its running time, an issue that is only exacerbated in dark lighting. The image itself is moderately defined, displaying some crisp lines and a sharp picture for the most part. Faces show an average, unspectacular amount of detail, but flesh tones do appear to be natural and lifelike. The film has a muted color palette, so there aren’t many bright colors that pop off the screen to add some contrast. It looks about on par with any other direct-to-video low-budget flick produced over 20 years ago, to be honest. Scanners III fares about the same, although the grain here does veer into full-on noise territory in a few scenes, chief among them the boardroom meeting. This entry featured more daylight scenes, and the better lighting conditions allow the picture looks sharper and brighter. The print has some noticeable dirt specks that sporadically appear, whereas the print for II looked to be in better shape. On the audio side of things, neither track is impressive by any means. Scanners II actually showcases some good panning effects between the front end assembly, almost managing to mimic surround sound. The moody sax & piano score comes through clear and free from any audio defects. Dialogue is well-balanced in the mix. Scanners III was more of a mixed bag, with some dialogue levels sounding too low in the mix. There’s not much presence, leaving the sound anemic and lacking range. It would’ve been nice to get some low-end support on these films, but considering the rush job done on both for production it’s not surprising they sound like, well, really low-budget productions. Neither film has subtitles.

Also, neither film has extras. “Not even a trailer?” you say? No, not even a trailer.

Although neither film here comes close to matching the first – both in intellect and acting abilities – there’s a certain charm to watching them. Scanners II plays out very much like an expected sequel would, only with a few new elements added in to differentiate it from its predecessor. Scanners III, however, manages to go from being a chore to almost becoming an exploitative gem thanks to some fun gross-out gags that are peppered throughout the abysmally dull plot. Now Scream Factory just needs to get on releasing a twofer of both Scanner Cop films and that’ll wrap up the series on home video.

Halloween (1978) 35th anniversary Blu-ray review

It can be argued that Bob Clark kicked off the slasher sub-genre with his 1974 Christmas classic, Black Christmas - and you’d be right - but the real success story to utilize the stalk-and-slash formula was John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978). The film cost a mere $325,000 to produce, yet the record grosses it took in made it the most successful independent film of all-time until The Blair Witch Project (1999) became a hit some 20 years later. To this day it stands as one of the greatest films the genre has to offer, with a legion of fans to back up that assertion. Carpenter utilized all of his finely-tuned skills as a director to create an atmosphere that is palpable, oozing off the screen with ominous presence and the promise of bad things to come. He employs the “less is more” method, preferring to let his characters carry the bulk of the film so that we can become accustomed to them, grow to like them as individuals, and all the while a faceless, blank Shape appears intermittently to remind us danger can be around any corner. Halloween also benefits from receiving one of the most widely-remembered themes in all of cinema, let alone horror. Carpenter, who also composed the film (in addition to producing and writing), laid down a moody, simplistic score that eschews complex arrangements and orchestration, relying entirely on the tones created using piano melodies. This basic approach also worked wonders for Jaws (1975) a few years earlier, a fitting fact considering Michael Myers is the “shark” of this film, methodically staking his prey until striking at the precise moment.

On the extremely-off chance that someone reading this isn’t familiar with the film, a brief summary. It’s Halloween night, 1978, and Michael Myers has escaped from the mental hospital he was committed to fifteen years earlier for murdering his sister. Hot on his trail is Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence), his psychiatrist and the only man who knows what evil lurks behind those eyes. He’s returning to Haddonfield, back to his home, and a young group of girls are about to be reminded that on Halloween night, everyone is entitled to one good scare.

A film can only be as good as its leading characters, and few female trios are as memorable as Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis), Lynda (P.J. Soles), and Annie (Nancy Loomis). Carpenter had the good sense to write these high school girls like real people. Horror films are often guilty of exaggerating personalities to make them more distinct, but Halloween gives these girls an authentic voice. Their friendships feel genuine, not like a forced group of friends cobbled together for easy pickings later on. On-screen deaths don’t mean anything if there isn’t a connection with the audience to these characters. Laurie feels like a relatable person. She isn’t the most popular girl in school, nor is she the prettiest. She’s just an average teenager who wants to get good grades and have fun with her friends. Even dating isn’t seen as a high priority to her, although part of that reasoning fits into the “morality play” aspects of most horror films. Laurie is certainly the most “virginal” of her friends, and that’s exactly why she makes it to the end.

I’d be remiss not to mention the late Donald Pleasence, whose role as the Myers-obsessed Dr. Loomis remains one of the great protagonists in horror. The role was originally offered to both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee (who later said turning it down was a big regret) before going to Pleasence, who at that time was best known as Ernst Stavro Blofeld in You Only Live Twice (1967). His relationship with Myers is almost like that of a father, and he’s desperately trying to retrieve him before more blood is spilled. Loomis manages to remain collected and professional, but there is an aura of frenzied desperation bubbling just under the surface because he knows what Myers is capable of doing. The role came to define his career, for better or worse, and his presence in the sequels injected them with gravitas.

Producer Irwin Yablans told it best to Carpenter that the audience shouldn’t be graphically scared, but rather “it should be what they thought they saw that frightens them.” Taking this ethos quite literally, the film features virtually no bloodshed, and most deaths don’t even involve Myers’ trademark knife. The film took a then little-used technique of assuming the killer’s POV, an effect that greatly amplifies the tension because now the audience can tell where the boogeyman is going to strike from but the actors on the screen are none the wiser. It’s a bit like the “bomb under the table” technique filmmakers like Alfred Hitchcock would employ. It all comes down to setting a mood, and Carpenter’s long, languid shots lull viewers into a false sense of tranquility before snapping them back to reality with Myers appearing at the sound of a stinger in the score. There’s virtually nothing Carpenter can be faulted for here, delivering what is for all intents and purposes a perfect horror film in every regard.

It’s so great, in fact, that fans will gladly (grudgingly?) line up to purchase any and every new edition that is released – leading us to Anchor Bay’s brand-new 35th Anniversary Edition. This time around, we’re treated to a few new supplements, but the real meat in the bag is the new transfer, approved by cinematographer Dean Cundey.

The previous blu-ray edition of Halloween had unauthorized color timing changes made, giving the film a heavily-saturated appearance which essentially negated the intended effect of looking like fall weather. Now, I realize that it can only look so much like fall since it was shot in the spring of 1978 in Pasadena, CA, but this new transfer claims to be more in line with the aesthetic Carpenter and Cundey were aiming for. Everything looks cooler and crisper this time around, with a steely/grey tone given to the picture. It feels more like the Halloween season. This change has also benefited the film’s fine details, which now look more apparent than ever. Faces and lines are more sharply defined, resulting in an image that should win over anyone on the fence about buying the film again. The prior blu-ray looked like a film shot during spring. The grass was so green it was practically bleeding off the soil. And skin tones looked much hotter there than this new edition, where faces have a softer, more neutral balance. I can’t say I minded the blue push given to some of the night scenes, as it did give the film a more ghostly atmosphere. But it’s hard to argue when Dean Cundey himself is behind the controls, and this is by far the best presentation we’ve seen yet. I did a direct A-B comparison, switching back and forth between the two discs, and the results here are startlingly impressive. If you’re a purist who wants the most accurate presentation possible for films you love, this is a no-brainer for the image alone.

On the audio side of things, this disc gets a major boost by receiving a lossless English Dolby TrueHD 7.1 surround sound track that, quite simply, murders the previous disc’s PCM track. As soon as the film begins, there is an immediately noticeable difference in the range allotted to the score, with Carpenter’s deep synth tones reverberating through your system. Dialogue levels register at a higher level, giving them a fullness that was lost in previous editions. The expanded dynamics provide more impact to musical stingers. Music is of major importance to this film, inexorably so, and the richness provided by this track provides an immersive experience fans could have only gotten in a theater before. Rear supports carry a lot of ambiance with them, filling out the sound field with elements of rain storms, trick-or-treaters, and screams that were previously lessened in their effectiveness. The original mono track is also included, though it shows clear limitations when stacked up against this new multi-channel affair. Simply put, it’s the best the film has ever sounded.

The supplemental department is a mixed bag on this new release, with a two new features hosted alongside some re-purposed extras. First up is a new audio commentary with writer/director John Carpenter and actress Jamie Lee Curtis. I’ll admit I’m not the biggest fan of re-recorded commentaries since, especially for a film like Halloween, it’s been dissected a million times already. But I really liked this track. Not only because I could listen to Carpenter - now a little older, wiser, and slightly weary – talk about his days of yore endlessly, but because Curtis seems to have this new-found exuberance for her days as a scream queen. These two converse like a couple of close, old friends, holding nothing back and speaking candidly about working together, the ensuing years that have passed since, and much more. It’s great to hear Curtis show some real excitement. She controls most of the track, while Carpenter sort of sits back and gives her the reins while offering up his own thoughts on the picture all these years later. The Night She Came Home is an all-new documentary on Jamie Lee Curtis’ one and only convention appearance, at the HorrorHound weekend show in November 2012. Curtis admits right up front that she has essentially chosen to ignore her horror fan base since it’s not really her thing and she no longer identifies with that genre. But now she’s back to monetize her fandom by signing items at this show and donating her earnings to the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Accompanied by the ubiquitous Sean Clark, Curtis spends hours each day talking to fans, cracking jokes, and reminiscing about her horror days. She’s open and candid, holding nothing back while she squeezes every last drop out of this, her one-time gift to fans all over the world. You’d think it could get boring watching Jamie sign posters and gab with fans for an hour, but this doc breezes right by with no lag. On Location: 25 Years Later is an old featurette that appeared on one of the previous DVD releases done by Anchor Bay. Running for just over 10 minutes, the piece looks at some of the key locations alongside interviews with a few cast & crew members. TV Version Footage collects all of the scene Carpenter shot to pad out the network premiere of the film, some of which add important details to the mythos. Of course, it would have been better if they saw fit to include the TV Version on this disc. Wrapping things up are a handful of trailers, TV spots, and radio spots.

Another selling point of this disc is the DigiBook packaging. The profile is very slim, with the interior containing a 20-page booklet featuring production photos and essays. The disc itself is contained inside a paper sleeve, which has been glued to the last page. It’s a cheap design, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear many fans hate it. The cover art admittedly did little for me when glimpsed online, however, in person the minimalist artwork does look a little more impressive. The cover is also slightly embossed, giving it a bit of texture, too. And, hey, if you don’t like you can just hold off and buy the 40th anniversary edition that is no doubt forthcoming. Like me, I’m sure all of you are sick to death of re-buying your favorite classics again and again and again. This release stands as the definitive representation of Halloween from an audio and video standpoint, but the clear omission of numerous bonus features means that, at the least, you’ll have to hang on to all the old copies piled up on your shelf.

Psycho III (1986) Blu-ray review

After Psycho II (1983) wound up being a surprise hit with audiences and (most) critics alike, it was inevitable that Universal would want another go-round with Norman and Mother. This time, however, Norman Bates would be in front of the camera as well as behind it, with Anthony Perkins tackling double duty. While that might seem like a curious decision given the fact that Perkins had never directed anything before, you’ve got to remember any sequels were going to place the onus on Norman to carry the film anyway, so who better to control his direction than the man so inexorably linked to him. The answer, some could argue, would be someone else since Psycho III (1986) is the most divisive entry in the series, garnering a lower rating on IMDb than the made-for-cable sequel/prequel, Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990). It isn’t a bad film by any means; it’s just a bizarre one. Perkins’ film is populated by a suicidal ex-nun, a lowly drifter with a penchant for extortion, an unethical reporter digging up stories on Norman, and Perkins himself delivering a performance that occasionally borders on someone parodying the mannerisms of Bates. New, questionable elements aside, the film does tie in well enough to Psycho II that this sequel doesn’t feel quite so out of place. If there’s a fault to be found, it’s that the film has a bit of an identity crisis, unsure of whether to pander to younger audiences looking for boobs and blood, or an older audience hoping to see more of the faux-humanity Norman has been perfecting during his time away from the mental institution. It settles for more of the former (which is totally fine), and I have to admit that despite the diminishing returns coming off of the last film, Psycho III has a vibe to it that manages to mostly work to its benefit.

This entry picks up a little over a month after the events of II, with Norman still running the motel all by his lonesome. It’s established early on that he’s still certifiable - latently by showing him scoop peanut butter with the same spoon he uses for taxidermy stuffing, manifestly by showcasing “Mother” (the dispatched-via-shovel-to-the-head Ms. Spool, who claimed to be Norman’s real mother) stuffed, propped up in the window, and chattering Norman’s ear off constantly. The motel gets a dose of energy when Duane Duke (Jeff Fahey) arrives, hot off the road to Los Angeles and looking to score a few quick bucks to repair the brakes for the final stretch. Norman offers him the assistant manager’s position and allows him to sleep in one of the rooms. Soon after Duke’s arrival, Maureen Coyle (Diana Scarwid) enters the picture, immediately grabbing Norman’s attention with her short blonde hair and a monogrammed suitcase bearing her initials, “M.C.”, which reminds Norman of Marion Crane. Like Norman, she’s also a troubled soul, trying to find her way in life after leaving a convent. Sensing this, he takes her in at the motel where the two have an awkward, budding romance which ultimately fizzles out when Maureen learns of Norman’s violent past. It seems an unethical reporter named Tracy (Roberta Maxwell) has been asking questions all around town, trying to uncover the mystery of Emma Spool’s disappearance. Norman appears clean to the townsfolk, but Duke discovers the truth about “Mother”, threatening to expose Norman’s secrets to everyone unless he pays up. But there’s only one way Norman knows how to deal with problems…

Produced during a horror boon in the mid-80s, Psycho III feels less like the methodically-paced entries that came before it and more like a fairly standard horror picture. More effort seems to have gone into pumping up the film’s quotient of nudity and violence than anything else. Again, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing; the atmosphere and production values make it aesthetically akin to what Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers were doing at the time. We know who the “villain” is, we know he’s crazy, and we’re here to watch him slice people up with a large kitchen knife. The film takes the obvious route of finally populating the motel with some unsavory guests so that Norman has plenty of moments to do “Mother”’s bidding, much to gore fan’s delight. Oddly enough, the original idea screenwriter Charles Edward Pogue came up with was to reveal that Duke was the killer, taking a page out of Friday the 13th V: A New Beginning’s playbook. Thankfully, Universal shot that notion down. While that could have added an interesting dynamic, the fact is that the last film established Norman had slipped back into insanity. Making someone else the killer wouldn’t be bought so easily.

This entry is the first to spend a lot of time with “Mother” and Norman, since the prior films never really showed them communicating in the same room. “Mother”’s withered husk appearance looks like something Leatherface would’ve stitched together. Here, it comes courtesy of legendary make-up FX artist Michael Westmore, who also provided all of the film’s practical effects work. I can’t say that any of the deaths here rival the sheer brutality of Psycho II, but they are certainly bloodier. And bloody isn’t always a better thing - clearly the case here since the impact of these deaths never felt as shocking as the relatively-bloodless deaths in the last film. Westmore’s effects work is nothing but top notch, though, and his expertise with crafting ultra-realistic work does add an extra element of realism to Norman’s handiwork.

Jeff Fahey almost steals the picture as Duke. He’s one of those guys that get by with a charming look and a shot of charisma, but underneath it all he’s just another selfish scumbag that uses people for his own gain. His sex scene with a local skank is particularly memorable, with Fahey – in the buck – playing with a couple lamps strategically positioned over his crotch while his lady friend gyrates in front of a wall covered in porn clippings. He’s all sweet talk and fun… until he finishes and becomes a nightmare pump-and-dump-er, flinging his “date” out of the room ass naked. Duke was one of Fahey’s earliest roles and he nails it. Even though he’s never much of a foil for Norman simply because he’s too stupid, he possesses an awful sense of hubris that runs counter to Norman’s congenial disposition. They make good enemies.

Psycho III can’t live up to the original, not by a long shot. Personally, I don’t think it can even live up to II. But I don’t think it needed to. Perkins does go a little overboard on connecting-the-dots back to Psycho, but this film manages to stand on its own as a unique entry. The story has a few hiccups in an otherwise well-plotted tale, and Perkins seems so comfortable back in Norman’s skin that just watching him vacillate between reluctance and malevolence is entertaining enough. Even though the love angle with Scarwid never amounts to a whole lot, it does allow us to see a more humane side of Norman that few get to witness. Oh, man, and I didn’t even mention the bizarre score featuring Southwestern acoustic tones, tribal sounds, and the kind of jazzy sax music you expect from a ‘80s action movie produced by Joel Silver. This movie deserves a little more love than it’s gotten over the years - and who else but Scream Factory would come along to deliver the goods?

I’d have to rank the picture here a notch below the previous film. Once the typically-poor optical credits are out of the way, the rest of the picture still retains a layer of grain that is moderately thick, not that it ever obfuscates the image in any way. A great deal of this entry was shot in low-lighting conditions, and the shadows swallow up a lot of the finer details. Black levels have a bit of crush to them, though they do manage to hold up pretty well for the most part. Daylight scenes exhibit greater strength across the board, allowing colors to pop a bit and giving faces some better details. While this isn’t as impressive looking as Psycho II, it’s still an appreciable upgrade over the DVD edition in every way. As with the last film, the audio here comes in the form of English DTS-HD MA tracks in both 5.1 and 2.0 stereo. The multi-channel mix is the clear winner here, even though the range could have been a little greater. There’s a rain storm during the film and the rear speakers never appear to take advantage by pulling some of the falling rain sounds into the field. Carter Burwell’s score has good fidelity, and the effects cues have a nice punch. If you need them, the disc comes with English subtitles.

In the special features department, Psycho III is stacked more than the last film. Starting things off is an audio commentary with screenwriter Charles Edward Pogue, moderated by Red Shirt Pictures’ Michael Felscher. This track is very interesting because, although Pogue wrote the film, many of his original intentions were cast aside once production started. His idea was to ignore the events of Psycho II (he hated the Mrs. Spool plot, which I tend to agree with) and make something more akin to the original film. While that didn’t happen, Pogue has a lot to say about the film and its characters. Watch the Guitar is a 17-minute interview with star Jeff Fahey that covers his excitement at working on such a storied series, as well as how great it was to work with Perkins as a director. As you’ll hear in all of these interviews, everyone agrees that even though he might have been in a little over his head, Perkins was a thoughtful, caring director. Patsy’s Last Night is an interview with actress Katt Shea, who was memorably dispatched mid-toilet break. Her role isn’t all that big, but she’s got plenty to say about it in this 8-minute segment. Mother’s Maker is a fascinating interview with FX guru Michael Westmore, who talks in depth about his processes for creating the film’s grisly effects work. I thought it was cool that he said Perkins specifically asked for only old-school Universal artists to work on this picture. Body Double is a brief, candid chat with B-movie actress Brinke Stevens. She acknowledges her mid-level career, stating that after doing one Corman slasher she became typecast for life. Here, she doubles for Diana Scarwid during a scene when Norman watches her undress. Apparently, her background as a dancer made her moves so erotic that Perkins had to ask her to be more abrupt and awkward with her undressing. A couple of trailers are also included, and there’s a still gallery of mostly publicity shots that runs for a little over 8 minutes.

Psycho III seems have as many detractors as it does fans. It’s commendable that Perkins tried to do something different with this entry, further expanding the tiny world of Bates by giving him some unique personalities to interact with. Jeff Fahey is truly memorable in his role as Duke, but the other newly-introduced characters don’t work as well. Maureen isn’t much of a love interest, and she doesn’t have much more to offer aside from being another tortured soul. And the less said about the reporter angle, the better. But the film works in spite of some clear shortcomings, making it a worthy addition to the series nonetheless.

Psycho II (1983) Blu-ray review

The notion of creating a sequel to a hugely successful film – both critically and commercially - is already a daunting task, but following up one directed by the master himself, Alfred Hitchcock? That borders on blasphemy. It’s an endeavor most directors would hardly consider simply because Hitch, and most of his oeuvre, is held in such high regard that they’re bound to be torn to shreds by critics and filmgoers alike. Does anyone remember director Rick Rosenthal’s The Birds II: Land’s End (1994)? The 2.8 rating on IMDb seems to indicate no, and those that do probably wish they could forget it. So, really, how much pressure was Australian helmer Richard Franklin under when Universal decided to move forward on a sequel to the granddaddy of horror films, Psycho (1960)? Franklin had been hired on to direct the sequel after original Psycho author Robert Bloch’s sequel novel was released in 1982, with the story taking a satirical approach to Norman Bates and his killing spree, eventually landing him in Hollywood where a film version of his story was being made. Universal balked at the concept and immediately put their own sequel in motion. Franklin, now set as the director, hired a then-neophyte writer, Tom Holland, to pen the script after being impressed by his work on The Beast Within (1982). The initial pressure to deliver on the film wasn’t tremendously great since it was being planned as a made-for-cable movie, but once star Anthony Perkins decided to return to the role of Norman Bates when the studio showed interest in other actors (we came very close to getting Christopher Walken) the picture was slotted for a theatrical release. There’s a bit of irony in there since it took Perkins returning to bump the first sequel from cable to theaters, but when his portrayal of Bates concluded with Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990) it was released as a made-for-cable movie on Showtime. Still, even with Perkins back there was no guarantee Psycho II (1983) wouldn’t be a redundant cash grab made to capitalize on the original film’s infamy. Except that there was a guarantee… in the form of Holland’s adroit script, which stands as a key example of exactly how to do a sequel the right way.

Taking place in real time, Psycho II picks up 22 years later, when Norman Bates Anthony Perkins) is about to be released from a mental hospital despite his murderous ways so many years ago. His release is heavily protested by Lila Loomis (a returning Vera Miles), sister of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), who desperately tries to plead with the judge to reconsider Bates’ release. But bureaucracy trumps all, and Lila is threatened with contempt of court before relenting on her tirade. Dr. Raymond (Robert Loggia) accompanies Norman back home to the motel, letting him know he’ll check up on him from time to time but to try doing his best to live out a quiet life. That advice is hard to heed, though, as Norman starts to notice notes from “mother” all around his home, causing him to question the sanity he appears to possess. In his absence the motel hired a manager, Toomey (Dennis Franz), a sleazy boozer who turns a blind eye to the sex and drug use that runs rampant on his watch. Norman’s only solace is found in Mary (a young, gorgeous Meg Tilly), a co-worker who has sympathy for him and stays in the main house, sort of watching over him. Norman’s doing his best to be good, but someone’s trying to make him snap back to his old ways. The pressure continues to build, the bodies begin to pile up, and Norman’s newly–acquired sanity looks like it’s beginning to slip.

Immense praise must be given to Tom Holland’s script, which manages to avoid the tendency most sequels have to simply regurgitate their predecessor with minor changes. Psycho II puts Norman back in a familiar setting, only this time he’s supposedly cured of his maniacal impulses. What’s smart about the script is that minor callbacks are made to the original (every sequel needs a little fan service, right?) but Holland does a lot to distance it; to show viewers that this isn’t the same film that scared your parents. Here, the tension is created by creating an ambivalence regarding Norman’s mental state – is he really sane now? The difficulty in knowing is because Norman is constantly being needled, whether by notes left around the house, Toomey declaring him a “loony” in front of the customers at the diner where he works, strange appearances by “mother” in the front window, reports of deaths on his property… all of these things start to make Norman wonder whether or not he’s insane, yet it almost seems clear to the audience that he isn’t. We know someone else is hoping to push him over the edge, and while it seems obvious who that person is I can promise you the film holds back some key reveals that make for a tense, clever climax.

Although the film resists the urge to become a standard stalk-and-slash picture – which would’ve been the norm around this period – there’s still plenty of killing to go around. The first major death is relatively bloodless and tame, which is in stark comparison to the later deaths that are shockingly brutal and, frankly, quite sadistic. There’s no fun in spoiling them, just know that effects artist Greg C. Jensen (who has shockingly few, if any, genre credits to his name) did some ghastly work here. Actually, wait; I will spoil one death because I’ve got to say the shovel hit taken by one character’s head during the finale is done with such force and malice that it almost trumps any of the other kills. Something about the way the shovel is swung, and the accompanying Foley effect, makes that hit so palpable. I’d also like to give some credit to matte-painting wizard Albert Whitlock, who provides some exquisite, seamless elements for the backgrounds here. Horror fans should know Whitlock as the man who did the matte work on Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), as well as about a thousand other titles. That’s a lost art I’d love to see return one day.

High praise to composer Jerry Goldsmith, too, for resisting the low-hanging fruit of simply reprising the late Bernard Herrmann’s iconic score. Goldsmith weaves his own original themes here, creating a tense score that peaks at all the right moments. Not hearing the classic Psycho theme is a bold statement, furthering this film’s intention to be seen as able to stand on its own without having to rest on the laurels of what came before. Psycho II is a film that, even now, sounds like it couldn’t possibly escape the looming shadow of the original. Yet, it manages to do something different, introduce new elements and characters, and it never panders to an expecting audience. Rather than aping Hitchcock, the film respects him enough to know his genius couldn’t be topped; and for that, the film can stand as a rare sequel that got it right.

I will never tire of thanking Shout!/Scream Factory for what they do. Think you’d ever see half these films on blu-ray without them? Psycho II has been given the “collector’s edition” treatment here, with a top-notch disc that delivers on almost every front. First off, the hi-def image is an impressive upgrade over the previous DVD edition. The print used here looks to have been kept in great shape, resulting in a crisp, clean image with lots of fine detail. Facial close-ups in particular look natural and picturesque. Grain remains intact, with a healthy layer throughout that never looks noisy or obtrusive. One thing about Scream/Shout! is that, while they sometimes don’t do the most expensive restoration work on their titles (I doubt their pockets are a fraction of what the majors can utilize), they do the smart thing by not messing with their titles too much. Rarely are deficiencies like DNR a problem; they generally provide a quality, high-definition image that – for better or worse- is faithful to the original source material. Not even Arrow, with all their fancy bells-and-whistles releases, can do that right. Also helping this image looks stellar is the fact it was shot by Carpenter’s old D.P., Dean Cundey. Cundey is known for his abilities in low-lighting scenarios, and while I didn’t think Psycho II was all that dark of a movie, it sure is damn stylish. Some of his wide shots and camera movements are downright spectacular. On the audio side of things, we’re treated to both 5.1 and 2.0 English DTS-HD MA tracks – and note that the packaging erroneously states the options as “4.0 and 2.0”. The old DVD had a 4.0 track, and this edition simply expands upon that with some added channels. I can’t say it was to much benefit, since the LFE still doesn’t have much presence. Goldsmith’s score shines in lossless audio, however, with a balanced score that sets a perfect mood. Dialogue levels are well-balanced in the mix, though sometimes it can sound a bit flat.

On to the good stuff – bonus materials. The audio commentary with screenwriter Tom Holland is moderated by director of the Psycho Legacy (2010) documentary, Robert Galluzzo. There’s great pace to this track, with Holland recalling how he got the gig, what the studio expected, casting decisions, scripting choices… he touches on just about everything. Galluzzo clearly knows the material very well, and he comes armed with a host of good questions to keep Holland rolling through. It’s a great, informative listen. Cast & Crew Interviews runs for around 35 minutes, containing interview footage featuring cast members from both this film and the original. This is a dated EPK featurette that isn’t in the best shape. Audio dropouts are frequent during the first several minutes, and occasionally throughout, so don’t think your system is glitching on you. The piece shows a little too much film footage (it’s constant, really), but the interviews are worthwhile. A handful of trailers runs for around 4 minutes, while a few TV spots are included, too, running for 2 minutes. A still gallery runs for a little over 6 minutes, showcasing numerous behind-the-scenes and publicity photos. Finally, the film includes the option to watch the feature with cast & crew interviews playing – sort of like an audio commentary. The interviews are culled from radio sources, with an interviewer (who is more or less an unwitting moderator) keeping the pace. It’s a unique feature, one I wasn’t totally sold on, but it has some added value in that the interviews are not ripped from the EPK found on this disc.

On a nerdier note, while this release does include the original key art on both the cover and the slipcover, Universal is apparently a company that doesn’t like to have fun, so newly-commissioned artwork wasn’t allowed for this (or Psycho III). Not that it’ll keep anyone from buying these, but it would’ve been nice to see what one of their stock artists came up with here. Scream Factory continues their all-out plunder on fans’ wallets, this release being no exception. Psycho II is a sequel worthy of any horror fan’s time, and a fine release like this makes purchasing it that much easier.

Day Of The Dead (1985) Blu-ray review

I hope this doesn’t sound too harsh to some (although I have a feeling it won’t), but I sometimes find myself wishing George A. Romero had never returned to the zombie sub-genre after completing Day of the Dead (1985). Romero built this sandbox, he’s the godfather of gut-munching zombie horror; however, few can argue his recent trilogy of films is even closer to what he wrought starting back in 1968. Night of the Living Dead is the seminal film for zombies. Period. He wrote the blueprint, he made the template. Dawn of the Dead (1978) is what I consider to be a perfect horror film. George nailed it, no question. Everything about that film works on numerous levels. Day, though, seems to be a toss-up for a lot of fans. It can’t be faulted for effects and gore, but the characters have always been a point of contention for some. Personally, I’ve always liked the exaggerated, maniacal personalities many of the lead actors possess. This world isn’t like Dawn, where you could still get lucky and find new people to join up with for survival. In Day, these people just might be all that’s left. According to an estimate by the good Dr. Logan (Richard Liberty), the dead outnumber us roughly 400,000:1 with no signs of slowing down. Naturally, everyone is a little bit on edge.

Day of the Dead maintains the singular setting of its predecessor, only this time the walls are even tighter with our main group huddled deep below the Earth in a mine; a sprawling, labyrinthine cave that looks more like a massive tomb. Dr. Sarah Bowman (Lori Cardille) and Dr. Logan are tirelessly working to find a cure to the zombie epidemic using corpses brought down from up top. Their efforts are made doubly difficult by the presence of Col. Rhodes (Joe Pilato) and his rowdy bunch of troops. Logan’s procedure seem to have worked on one zombie, a “fast” learner named Bub (Howard Sherman), but the surgery is too difficult and esoteric to ever provide a viable means of stopping the outbreak. The possibility of a cure or solution seems dire, especially to the audience, making this less a film about ending the current apocalypse and more a study of how humanity cracks under the pressure of knowing we’re next on the extinction list.

Two aspects of this film that are undeniably stellar are Tom Savini’s gruesome makeup FX work, and composer John Harrison’s score. First off, I know some people who absolutely hate this score and, honestly, I just don’t get it. Harrison previously provided the tunes for Romero’s Creepshow, which was also graced with a chillingly horrific soundtrack. His work here is both ominous and slightly playful, sounding like a mix between synth music to signal the apocalypse and something you’d be listening to on a Jamaican beach, which seems especially fitting given how the film ends. Of course, some of it does sound like it was culled from Jan Hammer’s Miami Vice tapes, too, so I can see where there might be issues for certain listeners. Savini was in rare form here, delivering what are arguably some of his greatest effects to date. He had a stellar team behind him, including current KNB heads Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger. Not to knock Dawn in any way, but the zombie and victim work there can’t hold a candle to the ultra-realistic, hyper-gory palette he brought to life here. From the opening of the film, where we’re introduced to a stumbling, blood-drooling Dr. Tongue, the picture hardly lets up from one stunning, shocking set piece after the next, culminating in the classic Romero full-body pull-aparts fans crave.

Ok, enough yammering about the film. You all know what you’re in for by now. Let’s get to the real reason why you’re here – how does this disc stack up to the countless editions that have come before it? More importantly, how’s the “all-new transfer” that’s touted virtually all over the packaging? It’s good – in fact, about as good as this film is ever going to get – but it’s not perfect, so upgrade accordingly. The previous blu-ray released by Anchor Bay was soft and a bit less detailed, a hindrance due to the minor DNR that was applied in mastering the disc. Many fans may have purchased the region-free blu-ray released by Arrow in the U.K., but that release, too, is plagued by DNR. A side-by-side comparison of Arrow’s disc versus Scream’s shows that grain is almost scrubbed free in the prior’s edition, losing any semblance of detail in the image. Scream Factory’s release is the best possible presentation given the limitations inherent in the source. Day is never going to look reference-quality. The film was shot in a mine, with varying light sources, and while it was all done on 35mm the fact remains that it was a low-budget production and those roots will never recede - however, Scream has delivered the cleanest presentation that is clearly not tampered with in any way, aside from some contrast boosting. Whether or not it’s worth upgrading whatever disc you own currently depends entirely on your personal preference. Some people don’t mind DNR one bit. Hell, they may even love what it does, and so this release might not appeal to them. If you’re a serious fan of the film, though, then I’d suggest this edition if only because you’ll be seeing it as close to the original presentation as possible. Grain is present throughout, although it never gets heavy enough to become obtrusive. Only the optical shots are heavily grainy since that’s just how opticals look. Fans will also be happy to hear that this release finally contains the unaltered mono mix in DTS-HD. The missing and changed effects that were found on both AB and Arrow’s releases have been reinstated here, allowing fans to hear the theatrical track for the first time in lossless audio. It’s a limited track that works hard to pump out all the required sounds, sometimes to the detriment of the intended range. This is how it was mixed, and any multi-channel audio tracks are simply faux to give listeners a bit more oomph.

If you’ve bought the old Anchor Bay DVD, the special edition Anchor Bay DVD, the Anchor Bay blu-ray, and the Arrow blu-ray, chances are you know that with every new edition of Day comes a few new bonus features along with the loss of a few. This release from Scream Factory is no different, featuring a bit of the old and a bit of the new. On the recent side of things is World’s End: The Legacy of Day of the Dead. a full-length documentary, presented in HD, that runs for around an hour and a half. This lengthy doc features many of the usual suspects – Romero, Savini, Nicotero, Pasquale Buba, Howard Sherman, Pilato, etc. – along with a few faces we don’t see so much – Cardille, Gary Klar – all of whom reminisce fondly about their time on set. Some of Savini’s on-set footage is spliced in here, too. The documentary’s only problem is that much of what’s discussed has been said other places a hundred times before. I’d call this “definitive” only in the sense that most of the anecdotes and information about the shoot have finally been collected in one piece since everyone available spills their guts. I mean, how many times can we hear about the fridge going out and the pig guts spoiling, right? It isn’t that the information isn’t of value, just that this piece runs very long and it doesn’t feel like it’s covering any new ground. I loved it for the candid recollections and to hear a fresh perspective from old faces, but it brings no new shit to light, so to speak. Two audio commentaries have been ported over from the Anchor Bay blu-ray, the first with writer/director George A. Romero, special effects artist Tom Savini, production designer Cletus Anderson, and actress Lori Cardille. Too many people on one track can sometimes be a bit much, but everyone seems to get a word in when the time is right here. The second track is with filmmaker Roger Avary. He’s a big fan of the film. I don’t know who tracks like this appeal to, frankly. I only care to hear from those involved in making the movie; I don’t really care about the first time a young Roger Avary watched it. Right? Behind the Scenes Footage from Special Effects Creator Tom Savini’s Archives is the same 30-minute featurette that appeared on the previous blu-ray. Presented in full-frame, this is the footage Savini shot of the film’s many gory set pieces. Wampum Mine Promotional Video is an eight-minute ad for the services provided by the mine. No mention of facility use during a zombie holocaust. Underground: A Look Into the Day of the Dead Mines follows Ed Demko (is this guy a fan? no clue) through the mine locations, although a lot of it is Ed posing and reciting film lines with blurry shots of the mine in the background. It’s a bit like Horror’s Hallowed Grounds lite. It’s unfortunate they couldn’t have lowered Sean Clark down into that mine for his usual segment. A selection of Theatrical Trailers and TV Spots have also been included. Finally, there is a Still Gallery containing images including: Behind the Scenes, Day of the Dead Locations, Posters & Lobby Cards and Miscellaneous. The disc loses some features from both the Anchor Bay and Arrow releases, so completists are going to want to hang on to those.

This release from Scream Factory can’t be called the definitive edition of Day of the Dead because it still fails to collect all of the available bonus features in one convenient location. I know that probably isn’t even possible (well, with enough money anything is), but I’m sure fans are just tired of having to re-buy their favorite films over and over, filling their shelves with yet another copy acquired for a handful of new extras. At least this release goes the extra mile in delivering an image that presents the film as accurately as possible, outshining both previous releases by an appreciable, albeit minor, degree. The new features are well-produced, featuring recent interviews and collected tales, but in bringing not much new information to the table many fans may find even a lengthy documentary doesn’t satisfy their hunger. For those who don’t own any prior releases (there has to be at least a few of you), and even those that do, this stands for now as the best release available.

Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday (1993)

 You may be asking yourself, "Why, of all the films in the legendary Friday the 13th franchise, would this jackass pick one of the most reviled?" And you'd be right to do so. But hear me out. I am a product of 1981, and on this film's release date - Friday, August 13th, 1993 - I was a mere 11 years of age. By that point, however, I'd drunk in every tale of Jason Voorhees on a nearly obsessive level. My favorite film has always been Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984). Most fans of the series would be likely to agree with me since it is arguably the best one, but I also had to good fortune to have seen it when I was really young. And it scared the fucking shit out of me. Once that dread wore off, and I attained my Horror Fanboy Badge of Desensitization, I rabidly consumed every film I could get my little hands on. This wasn't terribly easy back in the analog age, though. I had to resort to sneaking rentals of the series on VHS down at the local Wherehouse (god, I miss that place), where my Dad would distract my Mom long enough to let me get what I came for. Or, barring that, I'd have to make due with whatever hacked-up version was showing on cable late at night. Point being, I had to be crafty and sly if I wanted to get my fix.

Which leads me to Jason Goes To Hell. I only have vague recollections of seeing ads for the film. I'm not even 100% sure if I caught a trailer anywhere, but that hot-as-shit poster spoke to me. It told me to get my Jason-lovin' ass into a theater. The problem was that MY parents wouldn't take 11-year-old me to see R-rated Jason. But my friend Donny's parents were more than happy to oblige.And so, thanks to their own brand of lax parenting, I was able to finally see my first Friday the 13th flick in a theater.

And that's the problem.

I'm sure all of us have movies near and dear to us that, in a more objective setting, would be rightly torn to shreds by critics and fans alike. Hell, you'd probably join right in. But you can't. Because you watched that damn movie when you were still young enough not to know any better. And it wound up sticking with you. Chances are you have many of these films in your roster.

For better or worse, JGTH is one of those for me. I just barely understood how much it sucked in my adolescent mind. For starters, that fucking poster. That thing was an eye-catching, demonically fiery slice of horror ephemera that could have convinced any Friday fan to see the movie. Jason's mask, now all chromed-out and looking rather spiffy, with some weird snake/worm/baby graboid demon thing slithering out of it, presented in front of a wall of flame. Sounds bitchin', no? Except none of that is in there. Sure, there's some shitty little creature that is probably supposed to be the thing on the poster, but where's that damn mask? I was hoping that Jason, now without a mask thanks to his toxic sludge bath in the Big Apple, would manage to find himself with the mask he's always deserved. You know, like how Leatherface earned that fucking magnificent chainsaw in Texas Chainsaw Massacre III (1990). Freddy even got an updated glove (which, frankly, was totally overdone and ridiculous) in Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994). [Side note: I took a group of friends to see that film at the Fashion Island cinema in Newport - this would've been my 13th birthday - and I hated it then; still hate it now. I just don't get why anyone would give it a pass. Have you seen Bob Shaye's acting? My god...]

So Jason doesn't get his mask we were (sort of) promised. The film also neglects to mention how ol' sackhead got back to Crystal Lake from the sewers of Manhattan. I realize canon elements such as this aren't all that important. We fans just want him to get back to doing his day job, regardless of however the current filmmakers want to get him there.  I thought it would've been cool to pull a reverse of his exit from Crystal Lake as used in the Jason vs. Leatherface comic (which features insanely killer covers from Simon Bisley), where a submerged Voorhees is scooped up by a waste company cleaning up the lake and dropped into a barrel, which is then loaded onto a train out of town. Here, they could've had Jason barreled up as part of someone dumping NYC's toxic waste, at which point he'd be "disposed of" in Crystal Lake and - BAM! - he's back. See, easy. 

Anyway, I was shocked when the extremely stereotypical (even for a F13th film) opening turned into... the FBI blowing him up? Uh, isn't this supposed to happen before the end credits, guys? I came to see Jason, and 7 minutes later he's a side of smoked brisket. Great. You know the rest... coroner eats his black heart, dude starts spewing up blood and moaning like the shark in Jaws: The Revenge, he's now possessed by Jason. Spew and repeat a few more times until we finally get the big guy back in the picture with a whopping 11 minutes left in the film. Whereupon he gets his ass kicked by the least-convincing tough guy lead (John D. LeMay) I've probably ever seen. And then he goes to hell. And then Kane Hodder's arm, playing the role of Freddy Krueger, snatches his mask.

Once it was over, I had that sinking pit of disappointment in my stomach. That same feeling I got after my first viewing of Friday the 13th V: A New Beginning, when I learned an EMT had been playing Jason Fauxhees the entire time. I felt cheated. Clearly, with the film's tried-and-true formula more worn than Jason himself, the filmmakers wanted to do something noble and inject fresh life into the decaying series. They obviously forgot this is often met with extreme fanboy hostility. At least screenwriter Dean Lorey will admit they may have been wrong. He penned a great read on the film's production history that all fans should read - check it out here. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and director Adam Marcus' film is now seen as one of the worst Crystal Lake has to offer.

So why the hell do I like it? More than anything: it takes me back to a happy place and time. It reminds me of the people I saw it with, the now-long gone theater I saw it at (the old El Toro 1-2-3/4-5-6!), and a time in my life when new horror - regardless of probable quality - genuinely excited me. The cockamamie mythology retroactively ascribed to the Voorhees family is embarrassingly horrid. There's a Voorhees mansion. Jason is actually some kind of sperm-y red demon thing that can only be killed by a Voorhees. He's got a sister that never received a mention until now. Evil Dead's Necronomicon is curiously - and conspicuously - placed in one of the main rooms. They have to use a... magic... dagger... to kill him. Christ, typing this out, it all sounds so cliche and callow. Magic dagger? You gotta be fuckin' kidding me...

There's at least some good gore. You wouldn't have seen it in the theatrical cut, but once the 4-minutes-longer director's cut was released on home video there was a noticeable amount of crimson glory restored. The most glaring omission to Jason's body count - wait, does it still count as Jason if it's just a guy possessed by Jason? God, that sounds so stupid... - was the infamous tent spike sex scene bifurcation. In a somewhat ironic twist, that scene never existed before the film started test screenings. Audiences complained there wasn't enough of the expected teen sex and drug use the series was known for, so they added in a scene where Stephen picks up a trio of hitchhikers and drops them off by the lake. He declines an invite to stay with the single cute blonde, they all die. And the one who gets it the worst - a girl just about to enjoy a post-orgasm decompression - gets spiked through the chest and viciously torn in half. It's one of the goriest, nastiest deaths in the series. That might not have been true if the MPAA hadn't torn most of Jason's adventures in the '80s to pieces, but they did.

I also have a bit of a soft spot for Harry Manfredini's score. After eight films of the same ki-ki-ki/ma-ma-ma and overused cues, JGTH shook up the compositions to produce something that works quite well in the context of the film. I'd love to have a copy of the score for myself, so I can hear how it plays without the aid of a film overlaid. Manfredini, oddly enough, turned in his worst score for the next installment, Jason X, which is just atrocious. I don't know what the hell happened, but whatever sound he was going for there he failed epically in achieving. Or maybe he succeeded and I just hate it.

Despite the film clearly blowing chunks, I can still watch it whenever it's on. Maybe I'm a bit of a masochist, maybe I'm too nostalgic for crappy things. It's never one of my go-to films in the series, that's for sure. But there's just something there, for me. I find a certain comfort in watching it, and it isn't half bad if you can view it and pretend it isn't really a Friday film, which is fairly easy since you almost never see Jason. Of course, when you're viewing anything through an old set of rose-tinted lenses there's bound to be some elevation to the material.

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.

Drag Me To Hell (2009)

Yet another review from the crypt, this for Raimi's best film in ages...

It’s been almost 20 (!) long years since Sam Raimi waded into the genre pool with his last horror offering, 1993’s Army of Darkness. The film was the second, and most likely final, sequel to the Evil Dead film series, the trilogy which put Raimi’s name high up on the list of horror’s most beloved directors. After its release, everyone was wondering what kind of new horrors he would have in store for fans. However, rather than sticking to his low-budget roots, Raimi expanding into cinema with non-genre offering such as The Quick and the Dead (a much better film than it’s given credit for being), A Simple Plan (a well-received, and rightfully so, crime drama), For the Love of the Game (for the love of God, why?) and The Gift (a decent, if not bland, thriller). Fans, though weary of his output, held out hope for another masterpiece of horror. And then the announcement came that he would be directing Spider-Man. This was, in essence, the nail in his horror coffin, since once most low-budget directors go big (I’m looking at you, Peter Jackson) they don’t tend to revert back to relying on practical FX and smaller budgets. The Spider-Man film series has kept Raimi busy for the better part of the last decade, so when it was announced that he was taking a much-needed break to direct a low-budget horror film, well, needless to say, his longtime fans were frothing at the mouth. No, it wasn’t going to be the oft-discussed Evil Dead 4 (a project which, frankly, is past its expiration date), but an original piece written by Sam and his brother, and longtime collaborator, Ivan. The finished product, Drag Me To Hell, is a fun little horror flick, but there are some obstacles that keep it from being the low-budget jewel so many were hoping for.

Christine (Alison Lohman) is a loan officer at WilshirePacific Bank, where she’s hoping to snag the newly-opened Assistant Manager’s position. When an old gypsy woman comes in to get a third extension on her mortgage, Christine’s boss, Mr. Jacks (David Paymer), tells her that an assistant manager has to make the tough decisions, so it’s her call. Knowing that her promotion may ride on her choice, she decides to deny to old woman her extension, even though she will lose her house. After work, the two have an all-out catfight in a parking lot, culminating in the old gypsy placing a curse on Christine. As told to her by a local soothsayer, Rham, the curse causes the recipient to be tormented for 3 days, after which the ground is opened up and they are literally dragged to Hell. Christine, and her boyfriend, Clay (Justin Long), now have to find a way to undo the curse before she suffers that very fate.

The film’s trailers don’t do a whole lot to make it look like anything other than a generic horror flick, but fans of Raimi’s prior films will know this is likely to be anything but. Raimi is known to combine horror and slapstick comedy, a trademark in full effect here. That’s both a blessing and a curse, since many scenes that should be terrifying end up as slightly campy due to the humor. This isn’t necessarily a slight on the film, but I think that there should have been a stronger undercurrent of terror running throughout the picture. A few gags are repeated once too often, especially the possessed handkerchief. Yes, you read that right. It worked once, but it doesn’t do much the second time it pops up. My biggest complaint has to be the overuse of shoddy CGI. I had hoped Raimi would use almost 100% practical effects here, since he’s known for having some of the best in his films, but many of the intended scares were diluted by the poor computer renderings. That fact left me dismayed since I had hoped to get some spectacular gross-out set pieces, only to find haphazard computer work. I will say, though, that what practical effects are shown on-screen are rightfully nasty and definitely got the audience hooting and hollering.

I wasn’t entirely sold on Alison Lohman in this role. She does a reasonably good job, but she often has an uneasy delivery to her lines that tended to throw me off. I can’t complain too much, however, since the lead was originally intended to go to Ellen Page, she of (the worse fucking film of 2007) Juno fame. Her inclusion here would have kept me from seeing the film at all. I loathe her on so many levels. But I digress… Lohman does seem to be sleepwalking a bit here, but as I said, she does well enough that I’m not going to complain much.

One actor who always shines, in my opinion, is Justin Long. Even though it’s a slight stretch casting him as a college psychology professor (I don’t know, maybe my mental image is of someone who looks a bit more distinguished, or like Dr. Weil), the guy can still hold a film together. He was one of the highlights in Jeepers Creepers, but I’ve found his best work to be in comedy. He’s got some serious chops in that department. See Zack and Miri Make a Porno and you’ll know what I mean. Though he doesn’t have a whole lot to do here aside from acting concerned, and providing a major plot point at the end, his presence is still a plus for the film.

Here’s something I rarely notice in films today: sound design. Drag Me To Hell has some of the most incredible sound I’ve heard in a theater in a long time. It’s abrasive, unnerving, tormenting and VERY FUCKING LOUD.. I doubt this is going to win an Oscar or anything, though it should, but the sound design here alone is worth the price of admission. I’m sure it’ll sound sweet as hell on a decent home theater system, but don’t wait for the Blu-ray to come out. This is definitely something you need to experience in a theater. Raimi has always had a penchant for creative use of sound, Evil Dead II is a perfect example of this, but the uninitiated will be in for quite the auditory treat.

I’m recommending you see this, but it’s a mild recommendation. I really wanted to be blown away by this movie, but some of my minor quibbles keep it from being a full-blown return to form for Sam Raimi. For one, the torment Christine goes through for 3 days isn’t nearly as tormenting as I had anticipated. Truth be told, it’s rather tame. There are some worthy practical FX on display, but for every one of them there’s any equally appalling CGI monstrosity that sucks you right out of the action. I will say this, though: the ending has some balls, and those are in short supply these days. Don’t let the PG-13 rating dissuade you here. Anyone familiar with Raimi’s films knows that he has a tendency to use multi-colored oozes and puss in lieu of traditional red blood, and there’s no need for nudity here, so an R-rating isn’t required. Many great horror films haven’t been R-rated, not that this is great, but it’s simply not an issue for this particular flick. Summer could use a few good scares, so go see it to diversify your summer viewing schedule.