WAXWORK

I think I love the idea of WAXWORK more than I love the actual film. It's a simple tale about a group of rich kids who stumble upon a waxworks, a grand museum of horror in which every display is a gateway to a pocket dimension. That right there… that's where I fall in love. Anthony Hickox's debut film is built on a wonderful cinematic idea, a series of short horror set-pieces taking place in virtually every kind of horror movie experience. One might have something to do with a young man being terrorized by a werewolf. One might feature a rampaging mummy. There might be zombies, vampires and maybe even a mad Marquis or two. It's a brilliant concept, an anthology film without the typical anthology structure.

As a film however WAXWORK does have more than a few issues. Our cast of characters here are all rich kids, a bunch of Beverly Hills layabout types that don't elicit much sympathy (but their self importance does make their deaths a great deal sweeter). They're not grating on a Less Than Zero level, but they're far from lovable. The waxwork museum of WAXWORK is located right in the middle of an upper class neighborhood. In fact, it's just some rich asshole's home with a wooden “waxwork” sign above the door. I suppose one could call the cast of spoiled rich kids and the presence of a haunted house (of sorts) in an affluent neighborhood a reversal of expectations butttttttt I don't know. I prefer my spooky houses to be spooky, not lavish, and I have a hard time relating to people who live in mansions and get berated for paling around with their goddamn butlers.

Thankfully, once the film moves out of the realm of interpersonal, whiny bullshit and into the halls of the waxwork museum, things pick right up. David Warner, always a welcome presence in any film, plays the caretaker of this most peculiar museum, a kind of inter-dimensional prison housing the souls of multiple maniacs, monsters and monstrosities. Crossing the stanchions of a display will teleport an unlucky guy or gal into a pocket dimension ruled over by one of the museum's many inhabitants. An idiot trying to retrieve his lighter ends up in a small cabin with a sick man as a full moon rises outside. A hoity-toity gal falls victim to Dracula and his brood. Dying in one of these dimensions means dying for real, your body forever frozen inside the wax display. But the evil caretaker isn't simply collecting new bodies for display. No, he's collecting souls and soon he will have enough to awaken his wax figures, spilling true evil into our world.

OK, I have to get this out of the way right now… I find it rather odd that Hickox chose the Marquis de Sade as the film's final boss of sorts. That's a rather strange choice, almost as strange as using Sade as the fulfillment of the repressed, primal sexual urges of the film's female lead character. I mean, that's all kinds of fucked up. Out of all the “evil” characters in history, why oh why would anyone choose Sade over Elizabeth Bathory, Gilles de Rais, Jack the Ripper, H.H. Holmes… It's just a weird, weird choice in my opinion and it certainly isn't helped by the fact that Sade is presented in the film as an English pirate. Seriously, look down. What in the holy shit is that?

But I guess complaining about historical inaccuracies in a film about pocket dimensions and undead mummies is pretty pointless.

My biggest annoyance with the film however is how it falls apart in the end. Once the wax figures are up and moving (they were always moving, by the way. The actors they cast to play wax figurines in the early scenes didn't do good jobs of standing perfectly still), the film becomes a kind of comedy/action clusterfuck of bad editing, cheap sight gags and even cheaper special effects. So while I appreciated the sight of Patrick Macnee driving an armored wheelchair around a crowded room, smacking werewolves and zombies over the head with a rubber club, I would have preferred the film to play it straight all the way to the end.

Because for as weird and wacky as some of WAXWORK can be, the film is actually a straight horror film for most of its running time. Once we move into the museum, there are quite a few creepy moments (though the gory stuff is mostly missing thanks to the MPAA). I would have liked the film more had it gone for an EC Comics styled final ironic shock instead of a comedic free for all that peters out with a cheap bit of sequel bait. But sandwiched between a shaky first 10 minutes and a crappy final 15 is a really good, monster filled bash. It genuinely is a hell of a good time when it's all working as intended. It's a cult classic for a damn good reason.

THE MAJORETTES

When I was a kid, my mom and I used to go to this all-you-can-eat buffet for lunch. As a rotund little bastard, I always appreciated that place. What I didn't appreciate was the method they chose for serving their food. There was a large, slowly rotating service tray loaded with various foods, everything from chicken tenders (my personal favorite) to meat loaf. Only half the tray was available at any time. The other half of the tray went back into the kitchen where it could be reloaded with more grub. And that was a real problem. 45 seconds too late and whoops! there goes the chicken tenders. You would have to wait. And wait. And wait. And sometimes the chicken tenders would come back 'round and they would be cold or gross. Time spent waiting for disappointing chicken is time not well spent.

I only mention this because Bill Hinzman's 1987 effort THE MAJORETTES is a buffet film, loaded with a fine selection of subplots that it lazily grabs from every now and then. It was marketed as a slasher film and for maybeeeee 25% of its running time, it is. Some weirdo in head-to-toe camouflage gear kills some slutty high school cheerleaders. That's a slasher film alright. But the detective looking for the killer is having a crisis of faith, a bit of character stuff brought on by the fact that the murders seems to have a religious element to them. The local Sheriff is kind of a prick while the local priest is kind of a fanatic. One of the murder victims was knocked up by the local drug dealer. A high school quarterback is having an existential crisis. His girlfriend is having commitment issues. Their friend has a wheelchair bound, stroke ridden grandmother whose German caretaker is planning on stealing her money. That caretaker has a son who is a creeper.

Now, I should point out that none of these elements would feel out of place in virtually any other slasher film. But THE MAJORETTES is a special kind of slasher film, one without any real plot to speak of. None of these elements are really tied together in any meaningful fashion. This is a rare example of a slasher film directly adapted from a novel and as a novel, I could see this kind of thing working. But a film is 90 minutes long, not 200 pages long. I'm sure there was some kind of connective tissue holding all this shit together in the novel, but on screen it just gives the appearance that the filmmakers didn't know what kind of movie they wanted to make. Did they want to make a teen drama? Did they want to make a slasher film? Did they want to make a seedy thriller about insurance fraud and double crossings? Did they want to make an action film? A film about theological debate and struggles with faith?

Who the hell was this movie made for?

The killer's identity is revealed at the 60 minute mark of this 92 minute film. At that point, THE MAJORETTES drops the slasher film angle entirely (as if it ever really embraced it in the first place) to focus on a kind of loose revenge/action plot involving the quarterback, the crippled grandma's granddaughter and the local meth head. I would actually recommend skipping the first 60 minutes of the film entirely and only watching this final half hour. It's the most ludicrous action shit since the ending of Steve Barkett's THE AFTERMATH, easily better than anything else this film has to offer.

Because honestly, the slasher stuff (you know, the reason you were watching this film in the first place) is AWFUL. I mean, absolutely awful. Victims are stabbed multiple times yet there isn't a drop of blood on them. In one laughable scene, the killer hides behind a glass shower door, the best place to hide if you want to surprise your would-be victim. Whenever the killer attacks, there is a loud sound effect of someone screaming “RAWRRRRRR”. Is that the killer doing that? Or was that just added in for comedic value? In THE PROWLER, it made sense for the killer to be wearing Army gear. There is zero reason for this film's killer to be dressing up like The Prowler.

I mentioned the “slasher experience” in my review of SLAUGHTER HIGH. This film fails at delivering that experience. It fails at basically everything, to be honest. It's just a lousy, cluttered, boring mess of a movie made by people whose chief claim to fame was that they all were once involved in making a good movie. Bill Hinzman, John Russo and Russ Streiner were all involved with THE MAJORETTES. They were also all involved with NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. But even if George Romero had, for some reason, climbed aboard THE MAJORETTES train, I doubt it would have made much of a difference. It still would have been a total bomb.

THE UNHOLY

Camilo Vila's 1988 demon thriller THE UNHOLY is a bit of a mess. I would be very interested in reading the early treatments for this film, if only to see just what this film was like before the obvious studio interference. Vila's film is constantly at odds with itself. On one hand, it's a serious minded religious mystery thriller steeped in Catholic guilt and sexual repression. On the other hand, it's a silly sexploitation film-cum-rubber monster movie cheese fest. Now that kind of tonal cacophony can work wonders in the hands of an Italian filmmaker out to create a campy B-flick, but THE UNHOLY is played deadly straight the whole way through. 

First, a quick plot synopsis. The film begins with a groveling old priest having his throat ripped out by a remarkably attractive woman in a see-through negligee. We then meet Father Michael, a quiet and reserved Catholic priest. After being thrown out of a 17 story window by someone who may or may not have been possessed by The Unholy, Father Michael is taken to the hospital where it is discovered that he didn't break a single bone in the fall. Hell, he doesn't even have so much as a scratch on him. This attracts the attention of two Church elders, a couple of old men who quickly proclaim Father Michael to be “The One”.

After being given his own parish (the same one we saw getting all bloodied up in the opening scene), Father Michael meets a pretty blonde stripper named Millie. She dances at a trendy Satanic nightclub run by a man named Luke. As the story progresses, Father Michael comes to believe that Luke and his fashionable Satanist friends might have had something to do with the string of dead priests at his parish. For his part, Luke denies all responsibility. The two men butt heads when Millie suffers a nervous breakdown and seeks shelter in the Church. It's obvious that Millie has a bit of a crush on Father Michael and Luke doesn't like that at all. Father Michael next turns to his 

WAIT. Wasn't there a demon in this movie? 

See, that's the problem with THE UNHOLY. There's a genuinely interesting dramatic murder mystery going on in this film. Remove the Penthouse Pet demon from the opening, replace the long claws with a straight razor, and BOOM! you have a lurid, giallo-esque thriller. And that's clearly what this film was intended to be before opportunistic hacks got their hands on it. Was there originally a demon killing priests in the first draft? I don't know, but if there was I doubt it was presented as a mute, might-as-well-be-fully nude calendar model who mysteriously turns into a floppy titted rubber dog monster for the finale. 

It must be said that while all the overt horror elements like the demoness, the rubber monsters and the graphic gore were all clearly added in for simple commercial appeal, that stuff is actually pretty great. The bloody stuff is simply fantastic, especially the blood vomiting scene and the outstanding visual of an eviscerated corpse tied upside down to a crucifix. There's a great moment near the end where the film goes all EVENT HORIZON on us, giving us glimpses of torture and cannibalism. As this is a horror film meant for college aged males, the religious symbolism is pretty heavy handed, even bordering on unintentional comedy at times. Oh, and as for The Unholy herself… Wow. All that stuff is great.

It just doesn't belong in this movie. The best parts of THE UNHOLY are the parts that feel organic. Just watch the film. You'll be able to see the seams. I found myself thinking of THE EXORCIST III while watching this film. I remember reading Legion, the source novel for THE EXORCIST III, a year or two before the film was released. I was thoroughly excited for the big screen adaptation. While the majority of the film was great (because it was faithful to the source material) you could tell where the producers loudly proclaimed “this is borrrring” during the screenings. The loud, bombastic (and wholly ridiculous) ending to THE EXORCIST III was the product of a studio who didn't understand the strengths of their own film. The same thing can be said for THE UNHOLY. 

I still think this is a good film. I really do like it quite a bit. That said, it's obvious that the original material had been molested worse than the priests in the film. Oh, the irony. THE UNHOLY is often maligned for being yet another rip-off of THE EXORCIST and yes, that would be true. But there's more to this film than you would expect from a simple 1980s horror cheapie. Give is a watch. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

SLAUGHTER HIGH

A staple on the USA Network back in the 90s, SLAUGHTER HIGH is a 1986 slasher film from writer/director Mark Ezra. And writer/director George Dugdale. And writer/director Peter Litten.

Oh... Oh my.

38 years of horror movie watching experience tells me that any low budget slasher film (or any film, really) with three credited writer/directors is going to be an unwatchable mess. As if that wasn't enough, the film decides to really test your suspension of disbelief by casting 30 year old actors, many of whom are British, as American high school students. And if the constantly wavering American accents don't tip you off to the fact that this is a British film with no real understanding of American culture or custom, the film repeatedly points out that April Fool's Day (and yes, this was clearly meant to be yet another Calendar Day Massacre film) ends at 12 noon and not on, you know, the second of April. Apparently, April Fool's Day is a 12 hour affair over the pond. 

Then you get into the story of the film. It's your typical slasher movie shit. A nerdy horndog who probably never hurt anyone in his entire life is mercilessly bullied by a group of well-off jocks and preps. The nerd, Marty, ends up horribly burned by acid as a result of the Prank Gone Wrong. Five years later, our group of assholes return to their old stomping grounds for a reunion. Instead of warm welcomes and disco balls, the group finds their old high school abandoned and in major disrepair. Clearly, this “reunion” was just a joke. 

But fuck it, they brought beer and hard drugs so the group breaks into the school to throw their own party. Some people screw, some people do cocaine, some people reminisce and some people… well, some people have their stomachs explode from drinking poisoned beer. And that's when everyone starts to realize just what is going on here. Marty, deformed and insane, has escaped the hospital and is out for bloody revenge.

You're expected to swallow a lot of bullshit here. Right in the middle of these nasty murders, two characters run off to have sex. A woman decides to sneak off for a bath because she has a little blood on her face. No explanation is ever given for why there is a bathtub in this high school. Why don't the characters just, I don't know, leave? The film makes this huge fuss about there being electrified fencing around the windows, but later on in the film a character just walks out a side door with no problems. So clearly they could have just walked out of the building at any time. 

And why does a rundown and abandoned high school still employ a groundskeeper? Seems like a waste of money. Oh, and how does someone not notice a massive hole in the ground right in front of them? Could they not see it under the bright glow of the afternoon sun? Why does Marty, a 100 pound nerd, seem to have super strength? And why do people in horror movies always store their acid on the top shelf of rickety cabinets? Why couldn't Harry Manfredini write an original score for the film instead of just recycling his score from FRIDAY THE 13TH, PART V? 

I don't know the answer to any of those questions. What I do know is that horror films are often referred to “critic proof”. The idea is that no matter how bad a horror film is, horror fans will line up to see it. The underlying assumption there is that horror fans care more about the experience than the intellectual veracity or artistic integrity of a film. If the movie provides them the experience they want (the dumb characters, the T&A, the violence, etc.), they'll overlook shit like bathtubs in high schools or characters making idiotic decisions. And to be honest, that assumption would be downright offensive were it not for the fact that it is 100% true.

Case in point, SLAUGHTER HIGH is a stupid, poorly constructed and horribly acted mess of a film. The few bits of criticism I laid out above (some might call them nitpicks) simply do not do the film justice. It is far more idiotic than I could ever describe in words. Yet the film is undeniably a lot of fun. Some of that has to do with actual skill. The location used for the abandoned high school is genuinely creepy, as is the jester's mask Marty wears as he stalks the halls. The final chase scene is expertly paced and the film (more or less) earns its scares through clever composition and well timed shocks with only a handful of lame jump scares sprinkled throughout the film. It's nasty too, with some genuinely disturbing moments of graphic gore. Also, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that someone from THE DARK KNIGHT crew was a huge SLAUGHTER HIGH fan. You'll know what I mean when you see it.

So yeah, this is a dumb, bad movie you're probably going to hate. Unless you're in the market for a dumb, bad slasher film, in which case you're going to love the shit out of SLAUGHTER HIGH. Is it high art? No. Is it passable art? Depends on where you set that particular bar. But does it matter at the end of the day? Not really, because SLAUGHTER HIGH is all about the slasher experience and that's what the film delivers. It's a dumb (did I mention that?) stalk and slash horror film loaded with gory, nasty murders and more than a few chills. If that's what you want, this film will give it to you. If you want LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE… You should probably give this one a pass.

DEAD & BURIED

Gary Sherman followed up his socio-political cannibal thriller debut RAW MEAT with another genre-bending shocker, 1981's DEAD & BURIED. It's a strange film, a mix of Twilight Zone morality tale and full blooded horror. It begins with your typical horror movie shock opening, all bared breasts and bloody violence, before moving into mystery territory. The opening murder is but one of many that have been occurring in the small, idyllic town of Potter's Bluff. Unknown to the police, these murders are being committed by a group of locals, many of whom bring cameras along with them to the scene of the crime. As the clueless town sheriff continues his investigation, he quickly discovers that his neighbors are not who they appear to be and neither, so it seems, is reality.

After all, there is no rational explanation for why the murder victims are suddenly being spotted all over town, quite alive and quite happy. That sort of thing doesn't happen in real world, does it? So what is the explanation for the ever-escalating madness in Potter's Bluff? Is it terrible science or is it devilry?

I won't spoil the ending of the film for those of you who haven't seen it, though chances are you'll figure it all out well before the final half hour rolls around. That final half hour, by the way, is where Sherman's otherwise excellent thriller starts to fall apart. DEAD & BURIED has a twist ending and that ending really only works the first time through the film. A properly executed twist ending should clarify narrative events. It should elicit cries of “a ha! Now it all makes sense!”. With knowledge of the twist in mind, a repeat viewing should reveal hidden depths. You should be able to see the strings. It's like knowing how a magician pulled off his trick. While the ending of DEAD & BURIED carries an emotional wallop, it unfortunately brings up more questions than the film actually answers, revealing the otherwise carefully constructed plot to be little more than a shaky house of cards.

So whenever I watch DEAD & BURIED I try my damnedest to put that ending out of my mind. I do my best to overlook how none of this shit really makes sense. I focus instead on all the fantastic things Sherman crammed into his film, like the excellent atmosphere of its setting. I have quite the fondness for horror movies set in small, isolated towns where everything seems to be just a touch off from the norm. I focus on the great performances from its great cast of character actors like Robert Englund, Jack Albertson and Lisa Blount. I pay extra close attention to the fine make-up effects work of Stan Winston. Yes, sir, there is a lot to love about DEAD & BURIED.

In a lot of ways, this is a kitchen sink kind of film. The isolated town full of crazies, the zombies, the face melting body horror, the talk of voodoo and witchcraft, the strange snuff films, the random bits of nudity… Were it not for that damn ending, I think DEAD & BURIED would be some kind of forgotten mini-masterpiece of strange horror, one whose chief claim to fame was landing on the dreaded DPP Video Nasty list back in the 1980s. But I just can't deny it. That ending hurts. Sherman created his own little Icarus here. So close to greatness. If only those wings didn't fall apart.

THE GATE

1980s kid focused nostalgia is all the rage these days thanks to Stranger Things and the recent IT adaptation. Already we have whispers of a new GREMLINS film and more rumors that the long delayed THE GOONIES sequel might actually be happening. If you prefer your entertainment on the small screen, don't worry. More and more late 80s TV properties are coming back 'round. It's a good time to be a fan of hair metal, spandex and bangs. But for all the love being thrown around for 1980s entertainment, there is at least one movie that never seems to get the affection it deserves.

Tibor Takacs' 1987 (kinda) family friendly spook show THE GATE got lumped in with other diminutive creature features like GHOULIES and TROLL back in the day. Truth be told, it's a hell of a lot better than either of those two films. In terms of pure 80s kid appeal, it might not have had the gravity of THE GOONIES, but it certainly had the attitude down pat. Looking back now, I don't quite know why it wasn't my favorite film growing up. It has all the requisite I Love the 80s! elements. A rock album riddled with devilry, a horde of three foot tall monstrosities that show no compunction towards harming children, monsters under the bed, surprise appearances of walking corpses, something rotten and evil in the heart of suburban neighborhood... Yes, indeed, THE GATE was stuffed full of shit I loved as a kid. 

And unlike THE MONSTER SQUAD, another late 80s kid focused horror romp, THE GATE references films I actually liked as a pre-teen. Sure, I've long since gained an appreciation for the Universal Monsters, but back in 1987, the idea of a group of kids fighting off a mummy, a wolf man, a Frankenstein's Monster, etc., just didn't appeal to me all that much. While not explicitly referenced, there's a touch of THE EVIL DEAD in THE GATE. Our lead character has an eyeball suddenly appear in the palm of his hand, a disturbing trick I first glimpsed in the incredibly weird (and therefore super memorable) music video for the song Torture, a mid-80s ditty by The Jacksons. There's a touch of POLTERGEIST here, a little bit of Lovecraft, and more than a little bit of Harryhausen. All things I loved dearly at the time (and still do).

Then there's those three foot tall demons that come crawling out of the hole leading to hell that pre-teens Glen and Terry accidentally opened in Glen's back yard. A mixture of stop motion and forced perspective filming, the horde of maniacal mini-monsters are some of the best looking and most fully realized monsters in 80s low budget horror. Oh, and that's the plot, by the way. Through a series of mistakes, accidents and the unfortunate death of a family dog, Glen and his metal loving, half-orphaned friend Terry manage to unleash hell. With their parents away for the weekend, Glen and his 16 year old sister Al have to fend off an army of demons intent on awakening the dreaded Old Ones from their eternal slumber.

Yeah, it's not much of a plot, but it is perfectly serviceable. THE GATE is a connected series of set pieces and scares more than it is a tightly wound, fully realized narrative. Terry, the best Best Friend character in all of horror, has far more development than Glen, the ostensible lead of the film. There's a bizarrely Freudian nightmare scene in which Terry is called out to by his dead mother. When he finds her in the open doorway of Glen's home, she's standing in a white, semi-see through gown, her hair blowing in the wind as she calls out to him with open arms. It's weird, largely due to its slightly suggestive presentation. Though the film seems to want to use parental abandonment as a theme, it all but drops it come halftime. In fact, the film drops pretty much everything. All ongoing plot threads are abandoned to focus solely on the ever increasing mountain of weird shit going on in the house.

While the film never goes full-on horror, there are some rather strong images in the film. A demonic manifestation of Glen's dad has its face pulled apart before melting into a puddle of white goop. Terry is dragged into hell and possessed. In a later scene, Al fends off an attack by Terry by stabbing the poor kid through the eyeball with a Barbie doll. The rotting corpse of the family dog makes a few sudden, horrible appearances. When Glen finally rids the home of evil forces, the ensuing chaos blows him clear out of the house, a la DARKMAN. I can imagine kids getting pretty spooked by all this stuff. But when I first saw the film in the theater, I wasn't scared at all. I was having the time of my life. 

THE GATE isn't as impressive now as it was back then, nor is it as flawless as my pre-teen brain made it out to be. It's certainly entertaining. That hasn't changed at all. But the dialogue is pretty cringeworthy (this being the 1980s, expect more than a few instances of people calling each other “fag”), the lack of focus is sometimes distracting, and the absence of real narrative structure makes the film feel somewhat lackadaisical. Clearly, there are problems here. But a lack of heart isn't one of those problems, nor is a lack of energy. THE GATE has survived the years as a flawed yet supremely enjoyable film, one that definitely deserves a watch during the Halloween season.