Brain Blasters

After a brief absence (dja miss me?), here we go with The Wishlist, Part 2. This time around: The Reflecting Skin. This 1990 British film, directed by Philip Ridley, did get a DVD release in Japan in 2005, but has yet to show up on these shores, and more’s the pity.

The film takes place in the American Midwest in the 1950s, and has the supersaturated colours and creepy beauty one would associated with Terrence Malick, and, as with Malick, all sorts of nastiness lurks under the beauty. The protagonist...is eight-year-old Seth (Jeremy Cooper), whose overactive imagination invests his world with all sorts of horrors. He believes, for instance, that his neighbour, a woman going by the wonderful name of Dolphin Blue (Lindsay Duncan), is a vampire. He is understandably upset, then, when his brother (Viggo Mortensen, before he was Viggo Mortensen), recently returned from the armed forces, begins a relationship with her.

The Wishlist, Part 1. Wherein I pine over films that are overdue for a DVD re-release, or have yet to see the light in that format at all. Today’s subject: the 1980 sci-fi fiasco Saturn 3.

The film is a joy for a number of reasons. First, there’s the absurd plot: on a research base orbiting Saturn, passions flare as the idyll of the couple living there is disrupted by an unstable new arrival and his killer robot, who both wind up lusting after the woman on board. If the storyline were all that was ri...ible about the film, it might well be pretty entertaining on that count alone. Then there are the production values. The special effects appear to have been lifted from two completely different movies with utterly dissimilar budgets. At one moment, the audience is presented with 2001/Star Wars-style mile-long spaceships, complete with portentous fanfare on the soundtrack. At the next, the FX are suddenly far more reminiscent of a typical episode of Thunderbirds. Those shows looked pretty damn good for puppet adventures, but an audience catching big-budget SF pic within just a few months of Alien would be expecting a bit more consistency. But the film seems equally proud of all its effects, good or bad, and displays them like a doting parent.

A couple of months back, Shriek Show released its Evil Animals box set, presenting a triple feature treat for fans of 70's horror that has more than a touch of cheese to it. There are two theatrical flicks here, and one made-for-TV opus, and the titles should ring nostalgic bells for anyone who was a kid in that decade.

Two of the films – Grizzly and Day of the Animals – are the work of director William Girdler, and man whose output was never what one might actually call “good,” but was always...fast-paced and entertaining, even when it completely lost its mind (as did The Manitou with its killer-dwarf-and-laser-beams finale). Grizzly (the original “Jaws with Claws” well before The Edge) has the titular beast rampaging around a park, mutilating hikers. The plot follows that of Jaws to the letter, with the local head honcho refusing to shut the park down (need those tourist dollars, don’t you know). The bear is finally hunted by a trio of outsiders – rebellious but can-do ranger Christopher George (replacing Roy Scheider), Vietnam vet helicopter pilot Andrew Prine (standing in for Robert Shaw), and maverick wildlife expert Richard Jaeckel (instead of Richard Dreyfuss). The dialogue is riddled with Ed-Woodian gems, which keeps up interest in between the notably gruesome attack sequences. Of special note in this department is the scene where a little boy’s leg is ripped off. Hey now.

On May 21, Bruno Mattei died. He was the director of uncounted low-end Italian exploitation films, occupying a niche of horror and sex (frequently both) not unlike that owned by Joe D’Amato. It would be stretching the truth rather too far to say that he left us some good films, but he did leave us some entertaining ones. Viewers wanting a taste of his work should steer clear of Hell of the Living Dead, a zombie film that unfortunately is as dull as it is ludicrous. But Rats: Night of Terror (1983... out on DVD from Anchor Bay) is a different animal altogether, and as party movies go, this one is hard to beat. Be warned now, there are spoilers ahead. If you want to hit this film cold, stop reading now and go track it down.

A barely comprehensible crawl informs us that we are some two centuries after nuclear war. Our heroes are a group of bikers foraging for food and shelter in an unnamed metropolis. The movie is nothing if not a shameless pastiche of other (wildly disparate) flicks, and our first bit of artistic theft is from The Road Warrior. Or, at least, that is what the audience is meant to think. But these bikers are hardly threats either to Mad Max or to the Humongous. Their costumes are so varied and silly, they appear to have been lifted from several different movies. Add in the fact that, in this post-apocalypse world, copious amounts of hair care products and eyeliner are still available to both men and women, our bad-ass group appears to consists of Chuck Norris, Olivia Newton-John, Janet Jackson and the Village People.

It has been a commonplace for quite some time now to take for granted that the B-movie, as we used to know it, has died. The types of stories we used to get in those films, from, for the sake of argument, the 30s to the late 70s, have been taken over by the blockbusters. So we get the same narratives, but with budgets in excess of 100 million dollars. So not only has the B-pic lost its turf, but it has also lost its natural habitat. The drive-in is almost extinct, and anyway, it is almost impossible for such films to...achieve any kind of theatrical distribution at all.

But the form isn’t quite dead. Roger Corman, king of the Bs, saw the writing on the wall some time ago, and shifted his focus almost exclusively to producing product for home video and cable TV. That is where the B-movie now resides. And while much of that product is deservedly maligned (does anybody really deserve to be put through another Jim Wynorski film?), and equally deservedly consigned to the remainder bins of video stores, let us reconsider our instinctive bile for a moment.

I’m going to run the horrible risk of coming across as the worst sort of “in my day” fuddy duddy this week. Oh well, he said, with a philosophical shrug of the shoulders.

So we’re a mere matter of weeks away from the release of Hostel: Part II, and no doubt another round of handwringing and analysis in the mainstream media about the popularity of the torture film (if the movie does well) or a celebration and analysis of its demise (if the flick bombs). Now, let’s be clear, I had a hoot at the first f...lm (laughing rather more than my companions were entirely comfortable with), and I’m cautiously looking forward to the second (Eli Roth is a talented filmmaker, but I’m not yet convinced he has sound judgment in all things, and his treatment of female characters in the new film will be something of an acid test).

Personal confession time, though I doubt I am entirely alone in experiencing the following. One of the odd side-effects of the fact that, sooner or later, EVERYTHING is making its way to DVD, is that some of that some of the more deliciously sordid mysteries of one’s youth are fading in the harsh light of day. Nowhere is this more the case than in the realm of the exploitation film.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m of an age that places me between two stools. I’m old enough to remember the grindhouses her... in Winnipeg, and the ads for the movies that played there (not to mention the disreputable efforts that screened in the more mainstream venues as well). But I’m young enough that there was no way I could see those films when they first appeared. Heck, I was in elementary school for the 70s. But the ads that appeared in the papers haunt me still. Now, many of those alluring/terrifying/both films are easy to watch, and in nice prints at that. While I appreciate the opportunity, I also regret discovering the disappointing reality of so many of these movies.

Complaining about remakes is a lazy, fish-in-the-barrel sport. Any scribe can and has done it, especially, one suspects, when ideas are otherwise running low. But remakes are on my mind thanks to a recent encounter with a particularly bad one, so screw it, I'm ruminating.

Received wisdom posits that remakes are inherently a bad thing, on a par with sequels (but even more morally suspect, depending on the quality of the original film), and a sign of creative stagnation in the film industry. This is true as f...r as it goes, but there are a couple of factors we should bear in mind. Remakes of a kind have been around almost as long as there have been movies. There were, for example, multiple versions of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the beginning of the 20th Century. And remakes do not have to be artistically bankrupt exercises. The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Fly are perfect examples of films where their directors have taken good (or classic) films and gone in an entirely new, fresh direction, creating works that are, in point of fact, new originals in their own right.

The horror film’s energy seems to move in cyclical patterns from country to country. At different points of the genre’s history, the best work tends to cluster geographically. I admit that my evidence for this is rather anecdotal, but let’s look at the patterns.

France is where it all begins, with Georges Méliès creating the first horror movies in 1896. The genre is, admittedly, in very embryonic form at this stage, but in the early years of the 20th Century, this is where the action is. The American film i...dustry, in its infancy, produces its fair share of early horrors (most notably the Thomas Edison-produced Frankenstein in 1910), but its day in the sun had not yet come. The real nexus of creativity for the first feature-length horror films would be Germany, beginning in 1913 with The Student of Prague, and hitting full steam with the Expressionist movement and the likes of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The Golem, Nosferatu and so on.

Before anything else, some housecleaning. In my piece on BluRay and HD-DVD some time ago, I quoted Video Watchdog as saying the BluRay machines would not be backwards compatible. This has turned out, of course, to be inaccurate. Video Watchdog printed its correction, and I now follow suit.

Right, then. So, after a disappointing opening at the box office, the first reports about how Grindhouse will appear on DVD have surfaced, and that’s all the excuse I need to talk about the film again... now with the advantage of having seen it.