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.

Darkman (1990)

Long before Sam Raimi became the creatively bankrupt Hollywood big shot some genre fans have grown to dislike, he was spilling his creativity onto the screen with some of the most inventive projects in cinema. Coming hot off the heels of “Evil Dead II” (1987), a film that garnered a positive response from both audiences and critics, Raimi was given the proverbial keys to the kingdom and called up to the majors (in this case, Universal Studios) to make a picture with something he frequently lacked: money. He had interest in helming adaptations of either “The Shadow” (which Universal already had in development with another team) or “Batman” (we know who had that at the time). Undeterred by these dead ends, Raimi did what creative directors do: he created a character that embodied the qualities he admired in The Shadow and Batman, but also one that would have been right at home with Universal’s classic monsters of the 1930s. His creation was The Darkman, a character whose origin story went through over a dozen drafts before “Darkman” (1990) was given a go from the studio brass. The resulting picture was Raimi operating within his wheelhouse, using his signature camera work and frenetic action to tell a gothic love story that, once again, was a hit with audiences and critics.

Dr. Peyton Westlake (Liam Neeson) is a scientist working on a synthetic skin to help burn victims, operating out of his lab near the river in L.A. His girlfriend, Julie (Francis McDormand), is an attorney who uncovers corruption within the city’s largest real estate developer, run by Louis Strack (Colin Friels), when she inadvertently finds a document detailing bribery. She confronts Strack, who does the rational thing by sending his henchman, Robert Durant (Larry Drake), and some thugs to retrieve the document and kill everyone in the vicinity. At the time, that happens to be Peyton and his lab partner. Durant has his goons disfigure Westlake before setting a time bomb and blasting his charred body into the river. Presumed dead, Peyton somehow survived the blast, with horrifying burns covering almost half his body. Doctors performed a procedure that neutralized any pain he could feel, but as a side effect it allows his adrenaline to go unchecked and his mental state to become unstable. Peyton escapes from the hospital and rebuilds his lab in an abandoned factory. The synthetic skin he’s been working on only lasts for 100 minutes in sunlight, but that’s all the time he needs (usually) to disguise himself as Durant and his toughs. He rechristens himself Darkman, dedicating all of his efforts to seeking vengeance against all those who were responsible for creating him.

Raimi came up with an awesome story that could only have worked in his hands. He and director of photography Bill Pope, frankly, shot the shit out of this thing. There hadn’t been a movie since “Creepshow” (1982) that so emulated and perfectly captured the essence of a comic book. Raimi’s work had always showcased impressive camera movements and acumen for visual style, but the massive increase in budget afforded to him on “Darkman” meant nearly any of his lofty ideas could be achieved. All of the crazy shots that made “Evil Dead II” so memorable are accounted for here. I love when Darkman goes into a fit of rage and we feel like we’re inside his mind as fiery cracks appear in his head, everything goes red, and the camera moves in a hypnotic/nauseating way. There’s so much life in the camera that cause scenes to pop and stick in your mind more than any standard direction could have done. The scene of Peyton’s attack is particularly impressive, with Neeson’s face smashed into glass cabinets as we watch from within. The camera swoops and zooms and pulls all around as he’s tossed, burned, nearly drowned, and finally blow sky high and into the river.

That scene also showed just a small indication of make-up artist Tony Garder’s excellent work to come, when Peyton grabs two poles that look like they belong in “Phantasm” (1979) and his hands melt away down to the muscle and bone. They did it the old-fashioned way: stop-motion. And it looks great. Gardner’s prosthetic work here should have earned him an Oscar nomination because it can be hard to tell where Darkman ends and Liam Neeson begins. For such a large piece worn over a head, the result is something so lifelike you’ll forget there’s a man underneath. The movement is about as fluid as a guy with no lips and a well-done face can get.

Speaking of which, Neeson really gives his all here as a once noble man who so desperately wants revenge because these guys ruined his chance at having just a normal life. That’s all he wanted. He has to live knowing he’s a hideous freak while his girlfriend is out there, alone, and he knows they can never be together. At its core, “Darkman” is just as much a love story as anything else. And to make that work, you need a guy who can do sympathetic and “I will find you and I will kill you”. And that guy is Liam Neeson. As Peyton, he’s jokey and casual, just happy to be alive and doing a little bit of good in the world. As Darkman, all of his inner rage comes bubbling to the surface like liquid hot magma and he has little control over the beast he’s become. Neeson portrayed the character with a genuine sincerity, giving him the ultimate tortured soul. He even went so far as to make sure the FX department had the teeth in tight so they wouldn’t move while he spoke, since it would compromise the authenticity. His performance is a standout in a film full of memorable roles.

Lots of credit needs to be given to Larry Drake, Nicholas Worth and Dan Bell, who are all “impersonated” by Darkman using his synthetic skin masks. I use quotations because these guys all do such a phenomenal job of playing their doppelgangers, who we’re supposed to believe are actually Peyton when he’s trying to trick the mob. Drake is especially good, showing two very different sides to Durant at the same time. I really love how Raimi used this as a plot device because it’s so damned fun watching Peyton use his skills to screw with everyone.

All these years later, “Darkman” holds up exceptionally well as one of the greatest comic book movies to ever hit the screen, and it’s not even based on one. Raimi was in his prime here, using all of his abilities to make the film not only memorable from a story standpoint, but just as unforgettable thanks to a wide range of visual flair. The excellent casting is anchored by strong performances from Neeson, McDormand, and Drake. Gardner’s makeup is outstanding is every scene. Elfman’s score is typical, but great if you forget all the stuff he did that sounds like it since. It’s superb. Since Universal doesn’t see it that way, though, Scream Factory has come along to deliver a package full of features that should please fans.

The Slumber Party Massacre (1982)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scorned (2013)

The phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” has been part of the cultural lexicon since the 15^th century. The line is paraphrased from William Congreve’s 1697 play, “The Mourning Bride”, and the full quote is actually “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” Slightly less well known is “Hell hath no fury like a film reviewer scorned”, in this case that reviewer being me and the scorn having originated from Anchor Bay’s latest DTV endeavor, “Scorned” (2013). If the title wasn’t indication enough that the film you are about to watch is a love story gone awry, then the image of lead actress AnnaLynne McCord holding a knife up to her lips should get the message across. Tales of jilted lovers have been story fodder for ages, usually playing well to… ahem, scorned lovers who want some trashy cinema to vicariously live through at a depressing moment. I can’t think of an occasion more fitting to sit through this waste of 86 minutes than that, but even those who are on the rocks would be better suited to find some real entertainment to kill time. Writer & director Mark Jones’ utterly banal tale of cheating and revenge is so by-the-numbers you’d swear it was written using a Mad Libs for Scripts book.

The film opens with quite possibly the lamest expository dialogue ever seen, with text messages scrawling across a black screen saying “Do U want 2 B inside me?” and “I can’t wait 4 U” or some other juvenile crap like that. I get that they’re setting up the fact someone is cheating, but what grown man actually texts “U” to a person? The picture begins en media res as we see Sadie (AnnaLynne McCord) has drugged her boyfriend Kevin (Billy Zane) and is about to get medieval on his ass after snooping through his phone and finding out he’s been cheating. The film then flashes back a whole 28 hours to quickly establish the BBF4ever relationship between Sadie and her “friend since 2^nd grade” Jennifer (Viva Bianca), which feels about as real as a pair of fake tits. When Sadie and Kevin embark upon a romantic weekend at Kevin’s ultra-modern playboy pad in the woods, she’s convinced he’s going to ask for her hand in marriage. That is, until she peeks through his cell phone and learns Kevin has been banging Jennifer on the side. As the audience, we learn Kevin is a total moron because who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone? Dude… Anyway, she pepper sprays his junk and knocks him out with a log before tying him up and force feeding him pills to keep him docile.

At this point, Sadie decides it’s a good idea to make Jennifer believe she’s left for the weekend so the two of them can get it on behind her back, so she sends her a text from Kevin’s phone inviting her up. She arrives, Sadie incapacitates her, and we then get into a tepid rendition of “Saw”-lite, wherein Sadie tortures the two secret lovers via a variety of household means. The filmmakers may have realized we’ve had literally nothing of substance up to this point, so they throw in the subplot of an escaped convict who just ditched the nearby prison. Cops in this town must be one step away from stupid because this guy is hitchhiking on main roads and yet they can’t seem to find him. This will be somewhat relevant later. But first, back to the “action”. Some flashbacks to her childhood reveal Sadie has always been crazy. In fact, she seems pretty damn nuts even before she goes off her rocker, making me question just how much thinking Kevin’s larger head was doing. You want to nail a crazy chick, roll the dice. But dating one? After making that decision AND leaving his phone unprotected I have zero sympathy for the guy. The punishments go on for some time before Jennifer finally makes an escape after hitting Sadie over the head. An escape that lasts a whopping few minutes since Sadie has the quickest recovery abilities outside of Wolverine and Jennifer is impossibly slow to get away. I’m hesitant to spoil anything – yes, ever for this insipid slice of crap – but needless to say, the film wraps itself up in the worst way possible. It conclusively proves the local police are sharing a single brain, and that Sadie is able to get away with literal murder despite, like, a dozen clear signs she’s psycho.

But, man, is she ever gorgeous. AnnaLynne McCord has been steaming up TVs since her debut on FX’s ran-too-long series “Nip/Tuck” (2003-2010), but some of her best work came from “Excision” (2012). That film was a perversely twisted tale of a girl with serious mental issues who continually fought against her sadistic urges. And she was really solid in the lead. I can’t say she’s delivering bad acting here – because she does play crazy way too convincingly – it’s just the material she’s given is so callow. She gets kudos for managing to elevate it ever-so-slightly. I thought she chose scripts more carefully, which is why I had been expecting “Scorned” to be better than the cover and synopsis would suggest.

The biggest surprise is that this wasn’t written by a novice filmmaker. This picture had “green behind the ears” written all over it, but the man behind the pen and the lens is Mark Jones, a veteran of the business since the ‘80s. The man wrote for “ALF” (1987-1989), but he’s best known to horror fans for writing and directing “Leprechaun” (1993). It’s hard to believe someone who has survived in the business so long turned in such an amateur piece of work. This has the fingerprints of a weary, doing-it-for-the-money director all over it. I get that, people gotta eat, but if you can get a film greenlighted in this town at least try to make it memorable for the right reasons.

GODZILLA-THON #26 - Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla (2002)

Man, do I hate that poster. The poster for Godzilla vs. Megaguirus (2000) looks incredible next to this, and that was previously the worst of the series. Now, admittedly, I have no clue who the chick in front is; and it's very likely she's some sort of major star in Japan. Perhaps Toho saw her as a big draw to bring in younger fans. I don't know. What I do know is the only selling power any Godzilla film should ever need is Godzilla, not the latest flavor of the month. Am I making too big a deal of this? Probably. Godzilla has a fairly solid design this go around, and Kiryu/Mechagodzilla is all revamped and adapted to modern technologies. That should be enough to get people interested, no?

Again, I find myself surprised by a Millennium series entry (I'm beginning to think I need to re-evaluate my stance on it as a whole, though it's still my "least" favorite) because this was yet another retcon of the series. Once again, the timeline has been restarted from 1954, when the first Godzilla was killed. A second Godzilla has been wreaking the usual havoc across Japan for some time, not that the movie gets into any sort of specifics. After a bout with the JSDF in 1999 that saw heavy casualties, a decision was made to construct a robotic adversary to save the people of Japan from Godzilla. In a semi-ironic twist, the JSDF decides to build the mechanical body on top of the original 1954 Godzilla's bones. I know what you're thinking, and just forget the bones evaporated at the end of Gojira. This new technological titan is dubbed Kiryu, Japanese for Machine Dragon. Kiryu's outfitted with all the latest in heavy artillery, with a special weapon called Absolute Zero, which can freeze anything instantly before crushing it to dust.

The film begins to pose some interesting philosophical questions when Kiryu and Godzilla have their first encounter. Although taking down G is extremely difficult, Kiryu more than holds its own... until Godzilla lets out a distinct roar. Immediately, Kiryu is flooded with memories transferred from the skeleton of G54 that lies within its metallic carriage. As Godzilla retreats to the sea, Kiryu goes haywire and launches a full-on assault that more or less levels the city. It only stops because the power ran out after an hour of the kind of city-leveling action that gets Michael Bay harder than a rock. Go ahead, make the pun... The JSDF does some maintenance work on Kiryu, but some people feel it would be best to leave it be. A young girl, who seems way smarter than she likely should be, suggests Kiryu has a right to life just as anything else on this earth. It should befriend Godzilla, not fight him. Naturally, the JSDF doesn't see it that way so they launch Kiryu to once again fight G. The battle is spectacular, ending with - you guessed it - the Absolute Zero. As is tradition, Godzilla meets it head-on with his atomic fire breath. And as is also tradition, that's usually grounds for major damage to both parties.

Kiryu not only makes for a worthy opponent to Godzilla, but also a great character on its own. I really dug the concept of using Godzilla '54's bones as a literal skeleton upon which to build his robotic equal. The idea of a bio-mechanical Mechagodzilla is novel. I love that the bones still contain some energy, a life essence of sorts, and it adds a layer of autonomy to what is supposed to be a completely human-controlled mech. Thoughts flood its memory banks in waves, unleashing instant emotional outbursts that are uncontrollable. It's truly some of the most introspective stuff ever included in the series. Thankfully, this film isn't the last we see of Kiryu, either.

Interestingly, Titanosaurus was originally going to make an appearance by helping out Kiryu during the big brawl. That never came to be, but it would have been nice to see that old shrieking dino get another appearance in the series. Though, truthfully, I was never a huge fan of it. 

Godzilla is once again more or less back to his Millennium series self. The Big G of GMK was strictly a one-off, special event type of deal. The KiryuGoji suit created for this film had a smaller head than those used for the first two films of the Millennium series. They also fixed those jacked up teeth that made Godzilla look like Austin Powers' father. His scutes were reduced in size enough not to look insanely jagged and needlessly humongous, and the coloration was returned to a bone white finish. Speaking of color, G was done up in a charcoal grey once again; no more green for this guy. I wish the suits for the first two Millennium films looked this good. It's still not my ideal look for the Big Guy, but taking into account all of the other designs used for this series I'd certainly place this one in second place behind GMK. His atomic breath is also back to blue. Even though he breathes flame a lot throughout the film, the way the filmmakers get his scutes glowing and that little hint of fiery death appears in his mouth just before an explosive burst is expertly done.

The human element is less important to this story than the questions posed by Kiryu's creation. I mean, really, what else are the humans doing in this Millennium series other than trying in vain to find a way to kill Godzilla. Constantly. And they always fail. You know what this series has been sorely lacking? Aliens. Both the Showa and Heisei era films used aliens as a central plot device on more than one occasion (I'm counting Space Godzilla as an alien). Aliens have traditionally added a unique conflict for the humans to deal with, while Godzilla had his hands full with a battle or two. The only time it's interesting to see the military desperately look for ways to off Big G is when it's for a solo outing. The universal questions wrought by Kiryu's creation certainly spill over to our human characters, requiring a great deal of understanding and reasoning on their part. But mostly, they're just trying to kill Godzilla. Is this all that much different from nearly every other entry in the series? Not exactly. The army has always tried to vanquish Godzilla. Maybe after 25 films it's just a bit tiring to see them scrambling for outrageous new ways to kill the Big Guy.

Scoring duties for this entry fell upon composer Michiru Oshima, who also worked on Godzilla vs. Megaguirus (2000) and this film's sequel, Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S. (2003). If you read my entry for Megaguirus, you'll know I wasn't terribly fond of the music there. Oshima's work is a bit improved for this film, but there has yet to be a Millennium series score that's had any effect on me. Mostly, I just can't stand the "theme" given to Godzilla in these movies. I put theme in quotations because it's just a couple of low notes meant to signal his arrival, nothing iconic by any means. I'd rather hear recycled Ifukube scores than listen to the forgettable scores found in each Millennium entry. Only GMK broke the mold and tried something different, but even that has a cold, digital feel that couldn't match Ifukube on his worst day. The music works well enough for the films, and that's my problem. Godzilla's iconic themes, the unforgettable leitmotifs we all know by heart, are timeless. You hear those cues and you know what it's from. Nothing in the new series of movies comes close to matching the emotional response the classic themes produce. Am I being overly critical? I doubt it.

Director Masaaki Tezuka claimed they had no intentions of making a direct sequel to this film while producing it, yet it just happened to come together naturally after the success of this entry. With 1.7 million admissions, this was the second most successful entry of the Millennium series; makes sense Toho would want to give audiences another go-round with the same characters. And, hey, why not add in an old favorite while we're at it...