And that retribution is gruesome. True to his exploitation roots, Bogliano doesn’t flinch at presenting some exceptionally brutal violence in the film’s outrageous finale. There’s also a lot of nudity, but the scenes that would normally be used in this sort of film for titillation are instead balanced by nudity that is queasily uncomfortable. That’s not to say Bogliano is overtly making any kind of statement on the subject. It feels more like he’s hearkening directly back to the kind of mean-spirited 1970s exploitation films that routinely did the same thing. Although he obviously has a lot more resources to work with than most of those filmmakers, even if some of the more ambitious drone camerawork is a little shakier than it should be. Anyone looking for more of the fun of Late Phases will be disappointed and/or disgusted by this film, but with its moments of jet-black comedy and surprisingly insightful look at a person trying to come to terms with their own amoral behavior, Scherzo Diabolico is an intriguing return to form for a major talent in international genre cinema.
Screaming in High Heels (2011)
Originally published on Film Monthly 6 September 2012
The 1980s was a pretty great decade to be a horror fan: after the early-decade surge in slasher films, it seems like every other week another classic horror film was hitting the big screen somewhere. And the small screen started to offer more than it ever had before thanks to the popularity of video stores and the inevitable straight-to-video releases. Out of the low-budget horror scene came a new concept in stardom: The Scream Queen. These women made their careers knocking out low-budget horror films, often direct to video, to a cult audience that tracked down every appearance of their favorite stars. Of all these actresses, however, there are three women who helped define what it meant to be a Scream Queen: Michelle Bauer, Linnea Quigley, and Brinke Stevens. Jason Paul Collum’s new documentary Screaming in High Heels: The Rise & Fall of the Scream Queen Era takes an affectionate look back at the 80s and the women who ruled video store shelves and fan magazines.
Screaming in High Heels is mostly made up of interview footage with Bauer, Quigley and Stevens, along with countless clips from their films and interviews with the directors who made the films that made them famous: Fred Olen Ray (Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers), David DeCoteau (Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama) and Kenneth J. Hall (Linnea Quigley’s Horror Workout) all give entertaining interviews and share stories about life on the super low-budget front lines in the 1980s. The interview footage with the Queens themselves, though, is the real heart of the film. While there may not be much new information here for hardcore fans, the more casual viewer will discover a number of surprising facts– for example, Brinke Stevens has a Master’s degree in Marine Biology and studied dolphin communication before moving into modeling and acting full-time. She also, happily, seems to have no regrets about the strange trajectory her career took after those early modeling gigs.
If there is a major complaint to lodge against Screaming in High Heels, it is that much like the heyday of the Scream Queens themselves, it is far too short. Clocking in at barely over an hour, it is clear that the film was assembled quickly– all of the interviews are staged against a black backdrop, and it seems that they all took place in a marathon session of shooting over the course of a few days. The viewer gets the idea that for every crazy story one of the ladies or behind-the-scenes interviewees tells, there are probably a dozen more. One other minor complaint about the film is the lack of input from Jim Wynorski, although given that he still seems to be constantly making the same kind of films that he was making back in the 1980s (and at an accelerated pace), he probably just couldn’t squeeze in time for an interview.
Despite its brevity, Screaming in High Heels is well worth a look for anyone who remembers picking up Scream Queen Hot Tub Party at their local video store, or who wants to know what it was like on the other side of the production cycle back then. It’s a fun look at a fascinating time in horror history.
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010)
Originally published on Film Monthly 8 November 2010
Edgar Wright’s two feature films with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost– Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz– were hugely enjoyable tweaks on established genres. Their charms earned Wright and his collaborators legions of fans, but despite the lengthy gun battle that closes Hot Fuzz, Wright’s films could hardly be considered “flashy.” With the release of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, however, that goes out the window– like the similarly overlooked Speed Racer, Scott Pilgrim delivers non-stop eye candy of the highest order. Oh, and it’s pretty funny, too.
Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) is cruising along in mourning over a big break-up that happened over a year before we meet him. At the start of the film, Scott has started dating Asian Catholic schoolgirl Knives Chau (Ellen Wong) in order to further put off dealing with a real relationship. Soon after meeting Knives, Scott has a dream about mysterious Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) that turns out to be not quite a dream– Scott has a “subspace bypass” in his head that Ramona uses to shave time off her delivery routes.
Scott’s decision to pursue Ramona comes with a challenge: in order to be with her, Scott must first defeat Ramona’s seven Evil Exes. Suddenly, self-centered Mr. Pilgrim finds himself trying to juggle Ramona, the League of Evil Exes, and a rapidly-advancing Battle of the Bands that may catapult his awful band Sex Bob-Omb to untold success. But is Scott willing to grow up and accept responsibility for his own selfishness, or is he just another Evil Ex waiting to happen?
The world of Scott Pilgrim is one unlike quite any other: at first, it seems more or less normal, but then we see visible sound effects (the “D” of the bass guitar is one of my favorites), the “subspace bypass” is introduced, and no one seems to be all that impressed or even particularly surprised by the fact that Scott and his opponents all are able to fight with videogame character levels of proficiency seemingly out of nowhere. The most ridiculous plot points are conveyed as completely matter-of-fact: when one of Ramona’s Evil Exes uses telekinetic powers to throw Scott through a wall, his girlfriend simply explains that “Todd’s vegan.” The rapid-fire dialogue and constant stream of pop culture and video game references are enough to keep the film moving forward at an exhausting pace.
Still, while it’s exhausting it’s also undeniably exhilarating. There’s never been a film that so completely incorporates the aesthetics and trappings of videogames into its narrative, making Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World simultaneously one of the best graphic novel adaptations to date as well as one of the best “videogame movies” yet. Edgar Wright uses every trick in the book and then appends several chapters of his own to bring Scott Pilgrim to vibrant, eye-popping life; fortunately, he’s just as good at managing the relationships between characters. The acting is great across the board, especially Ellen Wong as lovesick Knives and Michael Cera as a protagonist who falls very short of being completely likeable. The supporting cast is also amazing, most notably Kieran Culkin as Scott’s roommate (and voice of reason) Wallace.
Attempting to describe Scott Pilgrim vs. the World exhausts my superlatives. It’s a breathless, brilliant ride through a unique cinematic world. I can’t recommend it enough.
Scumbabies (2010)
Originally published on Film Monthly 23 December 2010
As the market for independent films becomes more and more crowded, it can be tough for filmmakers to get their work noticed. In the case of Joseph R. Lewis’s Scumbabies, the writer/director Lewis decided to debut his finished film with a variety show. There were musical performances by artists whose songs appeared in the film, comedy bits, short films, and some extemporaneous carny-style storytelling about the man supposedly behind it all, Liver Boyle. Leading up to the show, Lewis had been posting short videos related to the film’s creation and guerilla marketing, as well as creating “3-D comics” art pieces that act as companions and extensions of the film’s world. When the time came to actually show the film, the audience had already gotten conside
rably more than their money’s worth.
Luckily, the film itself is even more entertaining and engaging than the show leading up to it. Lewis clearly immersed himself in the world of this film, and while watching every video clip and playing with all the “comics” certainly adds to the experience, Scumbabies is more than strong enough to stand on its own as a fascinating and highly unique filmgoing experience.
Tru Holliwood (Emilia Richeson) is having a Halloween party. The first surprise guest is her estranged ex-boyfriend Ash Wednesday (Paul Brindley) dressed as Groucho Marx, followed quickly by the mysterious Gabe (Brandon Lim) in a monkey mask. Gabe collapses dead in Tru’s doorway, and in a panic she decides the best thing to do is hide the body until the party is over. The situation becomes more complicated with the arrival of surly Izzy Sue (Casey Dzierlenga) and oblivious Francis Poof (Eric Peck). Rounding out the party are the twins Anne and Andy Desmond (Rachel Castillo and Tyler Jenich) and, unfortunately, Gabe’s Mom (Elle Ritchie).
The setup is traditional farce, which is clearly one of the main strands of the film’s DNA. But Lewis mixes up so many different styles of storytelling that the film comes out looking like classic slapstick as reinterpreted through the machine-gun editing of Moulin Rouge!, an irrepressible “let’s put on a show!” enthusiasm, and the low-budget grit of 70′s exploitation cinema. Characters might break out into song in one scene and engage in foul-mouthed screwball patter in the next, all while bright colors pop off the screen and the quick cutting keeps the audience’s eyes glued to the screen.
Like similarly frenetic films, Scumbabies can be an exhausting watch. However, also like the best of those films, Scumbabies is also exhilarating, especially as an independent film. The cast is fantastic, especially Eric Peck as Francis, who has a couple of particularly difficult and emotional scenes that he absolutely nails. Scumbabies radiates a wild, infectious energy that few films, independent or otherwise, ever manage. In short, if there’s a Scumbabies party coming to your town, you should make it a point to attend. You’ll be in for a filmgoing experience unlike anything else out there.
Sella Turcica (2010)
Originally published on Film Monthly 17 November 2010
Toetag Pictures has become a major name in underground horror, perhaps best known for its notorious August Underground trilogy of “found footage” serial killer “home movies.” Their more traditionally narrative films have been very different beasts: The Redsin Tower is basically a “teens go to a haunted place to party and get murdered” movie that veers from dull setup to extremely gruesome and disturbing violence for its last act, while last year’s Maskhead used low-quality video to tell the fractured story of a group of people involved in making snuff porn movies. Maskhead was much closer in tone and look to the August Underground and Murder Collection films, making it seem like more a step sideways than up– the film featured more narrative and character development, but had a low-tech look more akin to Toetag’s fake “found footage” works.
When Toetag announced their latest film, Sella Turcica, earlier this year along with a brief description that sounded like a take on Bob Clark’s classic Deathdream, no one quite knew what to expect. Other than, of course, some impressively gruesome special effects. Now that it’s here, the phrase “Toetag movie” is going to need some serious re-evaluation. Sella Turcica is a huge leap forward for both Toetag and director and Toetag founder Fred Vogel.
After a mysterious accident leaves him in a wheelchair and several men in his unit dead or disabled, Sgt. Bradley Adam Roback (Damien A. Maruscak) is honorably discharged and returned to his family. His mother Karmen (Camille Keaton, star of the original I Spit on Your Grave) frets and works around the house while his sister Ashley (Jade Risser) and brother Bruce (Sean P. McCarthy) help prepare for Brad’s homecoming. Tension mounts when Ashley’s boyfriend Gavyn (Harvey Daniels) shows up and decides to hang around to meet Brad, despite his somewhat contentious relationship with Bruce. When Brad arrives, he looks deathly pale and acts erratically. Over the next twenty-six hours, his condition deteriorates and his family is forced to face the fact that what has returned to them is not exactly the Brad they remembered.
Shot on high-definition digital video, Sella Turcica instantly sets itself apart from previous Toetag productions with a bright, colorful daytime opening credits sequence. This segues directly into scenes of Brad’s family preparing for his arrival, and once he arrives we spend a lot of time watching the characters interact with each other. In fact, for the vast majority of the film, Sella Turcica is more of a family drama than anything else. Knowing it’s a Toetag film, however, means that this lead-up feels like waiting for a bomb to go off. It’s only in its gruesome finale that the film finally moves into familiar Toetag territory with scenes of intense violence. However, all the time spent with the characters pays off, as the impact of the ending hits like a punch in the gut.
Sella Turcica isn’t perfect, of course– the acting is all over the place, and the deliberate pace will likely put off anyone looking for quick thrills (or, specifically, the immediate gratification of Murder Collection). Still, this is easily the best and most accessible film Toetag has released yet, proving beyond any doubt that they are more than just a particularly gifted special effects house. I can hardly wait to see where they go from here.
The Sender (1982)
Originally published on Film Monthly August 26, 2015
Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street made a huge impact on horror and pop culture in 1984 with its story of a killer stalking teenagers in their dreams. But a couple of years before Freddy made his debut, a much lower-profile horror film used a character who terrorized people with dreams. The Sender (1982) was directed by Roger Christian, who directed the short “Black Angel” in 1980. If that sounds familiar, it’s probably because that film was screened before The Empire Strikes Back during its theatrical run. It was thought to be lost but was recently rediscovered and restored, and it seems possible the interest in that film’s revival played a key role in bringing Christian’s feature film directing debut to Blu-ray for the first time.
A young man (Zeljko Ivanek) wakes up by the side of the road near a lake. He staggers to the beach, fills his jacket pockets with rocks, and walks into the water. He is rescued and taken to a nearby mental hospital, where he is placed under the care of Dr. Gail Farmer (Kathryn Harrold). She is unable to pry any personal information out of him, and he is committed for further observation. Soon, the boy’s mother (Shirley Knight) appears asking for him to be released and Gail begins having strange experiences. Gail finds that the boy is able to send visions from his dreams to others via some telepathic means, but hospital director Dr. Denman (Paul Freeman) finds this too incredible to be true. After a very convincing episode of mass “sending” to everyone in the hospital, Dr. Denman changes his mind and wants to study the young man. But Dr. Farmer realizes there is a serious danger to both the boy and everyone in the hospital, either from the boy or possibly his mother, who wants him back home desperately.
The Sender has a very low-key tone for most of its running time. However, it uses the concept of dream imagery intruding on waking life in interesting ways, and those scenes feel even more unsettling contrasted with the more “normal” world of the mental hospital. The film takes quite a while to ramp up into the really crazy stuff, but once it does it definitely feels earned. Roger Christian deftly handles the surreal nightmare imagery and manages to get in some inventive low-key chills in the earlier parts of the film, mostly without the use of too many distracting special effects (although a dummy in one major scene is a notable exception). The cast is fine, especially Harrold and Freeman, although it is a little disappointing Ivanek as “The Sender” isn’t given much more to do than just sleep and look worried a lot.
Overall The Sender is a solid early-80s horror film that, until now, has been sorely under seen. Hopefully the new home video release by Olive Films will help rectify that. The film looks great on Blu-ray, and Oli
ve is releasing a DVD version as well. This film has been available on DVD before, but the new transfer will probably make it an attractive buy for fans even though this release (like the previous DVD version) has no special features. Here’s hoping a new audience finds its way to this overlooked gem and it finally gets the reputation it deserves.
A Serbian Film (2010)
Originally published on Film Monthly 25 October 2011
A Serbian Film has finally arrived on home video in the United States, trailing behind it a notorious film festival run and a series of major cuts and bannings in various countries. Even though the U.S. home video release is unrated, the film has not made it here completely intact– according to the film’s U.S. distributor, a total of approximately 30 seconds of footage from two scenes of the film have been excised for this unrated U.S. release. However, even in its edited version, A Serbian Film is a vicious gut-punch of a film, its gut-wrenching impact only enhanced by the fact that this is obviously more than just a catalog of depravity. A Serbian Film is a ferociously angry and despairing film, and far more intelligent than the similarly reviled but less intelligent “shock” films to which it has been unfairly compared.
Milos (Srdjan Todorovic) is a former porn star turned normal family man– more or less. He has a beautiful wife, Marija (Jelena Gavrilovic), a precocious son, a nice house and bills to pay. Milos has some cash set aside from his “acting” days, but he still has to take the occasional job to keep his head above water. One day his porn-film contact and former co-star Lejla (Katarina Zutic) brings Milos a tempting offer: a filmmaker called Vukmir (Sergej Trifunovic) is preparing to shoot an “artistic pornography” in Serbia, and he wants Milos for the lead in his film. In fact, he seems to desperately need Milos in particular, and offers to pay him enough that he set for life and then some. This payment comes with a condition: Milos is not to know what he is shooting on any given day until he arrives on the set. Despite some initial misgivings, Milos is convinced by Lejla (who has worked with Vukmir before) and gets the OK from his wife.
The Unrepentant Cinephile Page 61
