Spider Forest (2004): or, What Tangled Webs We Weave

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 27!

 TV journalist Kang Min (Woo-seong Kam) finds himself inexplicably wandering through a beautiful, creepy forest, and soon happens upon what appears to be an abandoned cabin. Inside, however, he discovers the mangled body of a half-naked man, his face frozen in a rictus of terror. In another bedroom he finds his girlfriend, who was apparently there for a tryst with the dead man. Also mortally wounded, the girl babbles cryptically about "The spiders! The spiders!" before expiring in her wronged lover's arms. Hearing a noise outside, Kang Min chases a shadowy figure into the woods, but gets waylaid with a stout tree branch to the noggin. Concussed and confused, he stumbles onto a nearby road, into a tunnel, and is immediately run down by an SUV! As he bleeds out on the pavement, he sees a blurry, dark figure that seems strangely, impossibly familiar...

Flashing back, we follow the events that led up to Kang Min's bad end--or do we? In Spider Forest (2004), writer/director Il-gon Song weaves an intricate web out of his protagonist's past, present, and possible futures. At the center of the web is the mysterious Min Su-Jin (Jung Suh), an enigmatic photo developing clerk who tells him the story of the Spider Forest--a place where ghosts who no one loves or remembers haunt the amnesiac living as eight-legged revenants. As the TV journalist spirals toward the truth, he becomes more and more entangled in his own memories, leading to (naturally) a shocking and slightly head-scratching conclusion.

Some of the commenters on Spider Forest's imdb reviews page compare the style and content here to a David Lynch film, and the comparison is apt. Though the movie has some horror elements--there's a ghost story in there somewhere, and the scene of the double murder is grim, especially later when Kang Min's friend detective Choi (Hyeong-seong Jang) discovers the bodies teeming with baby spiders--but mostly this is a narrative puzzle of a Lynchian stamp, where the viewer is invited to make connections between seemingly disparate events and symbols and interpret the ending on an almost subconscious level. I don't think this flick is quite as inscrutable as much of Lynch's work, but it is tightly constructed and beautifully shot, with some stunning compositions, particularly in the forest itself and the traffic tunnel where Kang Min meets his fate.

The movie doesn't have a lot of pulse-pounding action, and I would really classify it more as "brain-twisting drama" than horror (but imdb classifies it as horror, so I'm keeping it for the Challenge!)--still, it is a very interesting movie that kept me engaged and intrigued. 2.25 thumbs.

"I just want to drive a big, long semi down this tunnel, again and again and again! I don't know why..."

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The Strangers (2008): or, Don't Be Home

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 22!

After a friend's wedding reception, hopeless romantic James Hoyt (Scott Speedman) proposes to his chain-smoking girlfriend Kristen McKay (Liv Tyler). Unfortunately she is just not ready for marriage and shuts him down hard, which turns the elaborate romantic weekend James has planned at his parents' isolated summer cabin a real Olympics of Awkwardness. Soon they have bigger fish to fry, however, as a mysterious girl keeps knocking at their door, at 4 am, asking for "Tamara." Later the knocks become loud bangs, the chimney gets blocked off, and someone not only cuts the phone line, but sneaks in and steals Kristen's recharging cell. As the creepiness and hostilities escalate, James and Kristen find themselves fighting for their lives against a trio of implacable killers whose motivations are as inscrutable as the faces behind their creepy, old-fashioned Halloween masks...

The Strangers (2008) does exactly what I believe it sets out to do--to unsettle the viewer, ramp up the tension, and send you home determined to buy new deadbolts for all the doors in your house--and does so very efficiently, with very little extra narrative fat. After a Laroquette-ish opening voiceover and a flash-forward "discovery" scene, we're thrown right into Kristen and James's uncomfortable arrival at the cottage, and from there things just get more tense. Tyler is a gifted actress, and brings her talents fully to bear on the role of Kristen, both in her sad, emotionally-troubled opening scenes and in her terrified, fighting for her life scenes at the end. Hoyt is fine as the shell-shocked beau suddenly called upon to protect the woman he loves. It's a testament to their skill as actors and the skill of director Bryan Bertino (working from his own script) that, despite being largely a 2-character piece, the flick kept my interest and never felt boring.

The trio of Killers are extremely creepy and menacing, at times seeming almost supernatural in their machinations and ability to walk in and out of the house at will, despite James and Kristen's best battening-down efforts. (In fact I was wondering for a while whether they were some kind of supernatural beings, but the ending has little in it to support that idea.) Their nightmare-fuel masks and the sing-song voice of Dollface, the only one who talks (Gemma Ward, I think) are sure to produce shivers. And Bertino's decision never to show their faces--even when they unmask themselves to James and Kristen--hammers home the idea of them as something more than run-of-the-mill psychopaths. They're almost symbols of all senseless violence and murder. When Kristen asks Dollface the usual question--"Why are you doing this to us?"--the killer's answer is chilling: "Because you were home."

A very creepy and well-made home invasion flick, The Strangers is not the feel-good flick of the year (though its ending is happier than it could have been, in a way), but it's definitely a tension-filled ride. 2.75 thumbs.

"I'm going to ask you this one more time: WHERE'S THE GODDAMNED BATHROOM?"

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Hatchet (2006): or, Blood and Gore and Little More

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 15!

 
A group of stupid tourists in New Orleans for Mardis Gras stupidly take a haunted swamp tour from a stupid tour guide and end up stupidly stuck in the swamp being killed off by a hulking, bloodthirsty killer ghost.

Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. I'll try again.

Mopey emo kid Ben (Joel David Moore, whom I was shocked to learn has NOT played Shaggy in a live-action Scooby-Doo flick...yet) and his pal Marcus (Deon Richmond) go to Mardis Gras to help Ben get over being dumped by his long-term girlfriend. Uninterested in boobs and booze--I hate him already--Ben convinces Marcus instead to go on a Haunted Swamp Tour, headed by the Ragin' Asian Cajun Shawn (Parry Shen). Also along for the ride: a would-be pornographer and his two bickering, boob-baring starlets, a stereotypical retired couple from the Midwest, and a silent, brooding local girl with a hidden agenda.

Of course they get stranded in the swamp and are soon under attack by Victor Crowley (Kane Hodder), a hulking, vengeful revenant who kills any and everybody trespassing in his swamp, in extremely gory and bloody ways. Can our hapless tourists survive a night in the swamp, on the run from gators, snakes, and an unkillable, bloodthirsty ghost?

When Hatchet came out in 2006, it got a lot of hype from the horror community, and its easy to see why. In addition to some truly spectacular, gut-wrenching gore and a villain who looks like a mashup of Jason (part 2 era), Madman Marz, and the Freak from Funhouse, it also boasted cameos by such 80s and 90s horror icons as Hodder, Robert Englund, and Tony Todd. (Todd in particular has a hilarious bit part as a bitter former tour guide in the French Quarter.)

I guess I'm just an old fogey, but I couldn't get into this one. While I enjoyed the creature design and the inventive, extremely gory FX (and appreciated even more that they were all practical FX, no CG), I found those scenes consistently undercut by the extremely broad, lowest-common-denominator "comedy" that comprised pretty much all of the plot. The characters are not developed past their one-dimensional sketches--Brian is only ever mopey and heartbroken, Marcus is only ever a wisecracking sidekick, and the Boob girls are only ever ditzy porn stars. Sure, it's nice to see girls baring their boobs and shouting "Woo!" but even that gets old when it's the entirety of a character's personality.

Also, I understand that the movie is meant an homage to the slashers of the 80s, but it felt really by the numbers to me. "Here's the part where they go off the beaten path and get stranded. Here's the part where they learn the truth about the legend. Here's the part where people get killed. Here's the part where they stop running and fight back." There was no tweaking of the formula, which would be fine, except there were also no engaging characters to keep me interested. Writer/Director
Adam Green seemed to keep a hard line drawn between the comedy sections and horror sections of the movie, and as a result I felt detached from both.

I know a lot of people loved this, and Green's personal story is a very inspirational one (look it up) so I don't begrudge him his success. And the practical gore scenes really are something to see, a nice present for fans of the genre starved by the malnutritive properties of CG gore. Maybe it's my age, or my steady diet of 70s exploitation and Italian wackiness, but this just didn't do it for me. I found Hatchet okay, but just okay. 1.5 thumbs.

"Zoiks!"

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[REC] ² (2009): or, 28 Floors Later

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 13!

 
An apartment building in the center of a Barcelona has been locked down, sealed off with plastic wrap, and surrounded by police and officials. It seems the people inside have come down with a particularly bad case of the Extreme Ocular Hemorrhage and Homicidal Violence Flu. The virus is extremely contagious, leading the municipal health department to take drastic measures. A SWAT team is sent in, along with the secretive Dr. Owen (living Pixar character Jonathan Mellor) to locate Patient Zero and get a blood sample, which they hope will allow them to find a cure. But when one blood-spitting murder machine gets surprisingly un-murdery after Dr. Owen holds up a crucifix and lays some scripture on his ass, the members of the police party realize there's something much more sinister than just a virus going on...

Picking up precisely where 2007 hit [REC] left off, [REC] ² is more of the same--but I didn't really mind that much. The demonic possession-as-virus idea is not bad as such explanations go, adding a supernatural layer to the standard 28 Days Later-style infection flick. (Which by now should in fact be its own subgenre.) Once again co-directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza use the first-cameras again, here mounted on the SWAT team's helmets for command and control purposes--to set up some tense "moving through the shadows" shots and frenetic attacks by the infected remnants. The "night vision" shots are back too, and used here to the same good effect. Manuela Velasco also returns in a reprise of her role from the first movie, with a welcome if predictable twist.

[REC] ² doesn't do anything particularly new, but it does deliver an exciting, bloody, action-packed and sometimes creepy ride. 2 thumbs up.

"We're out of jelly."

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The Slit-Mouthed Woman (2005): or, Open Wide and Say AAAAAAAUGH!

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 11!

 
A doctor and a nurse working the graveyard shift at a hospital specializing in cosmetic surgery retire to a forbidden, closed-off room for a little stress-relieving sex--or quite a lot of it, actually. Unfortunately, the rumpy-pumpy is interrupted by the appearance of the Slit-Mouthed Woman--a long-haired ghost seeking revenge for the mutilation that earned her the name. Three years later, the hospital is abandoned and the ghost a popular urban legend. A journalist writing for a Cosmo-esque magazine who was tasked with writing an article on the story disappears a few days before deadline, and pretty young go-getter Yoko is tasked with finishing the story. As she investigates the Slit-Mouthed Woman's history, she and her live-in stepsister Kazumi are drawn deeper into a mystery that will soon threaten their happiness, if not their lives.

I really don't have that much to say about The Slit-Mouthed Woman. I didn't know anything about it before queuing it up on Netflix instant, but I believe it's an example of the pinku genre of Japanese film, short movies that typically mix extreme genre film-making (often horror, martial arts, true crime, and/or ultraviolence) with tons and tons of softcore sex. The ghost story is competently done, drawing from a well-known and fairly creepy Japanese legend you can read more about here. The woman's first appearance is pretty scary, though her subsequent materializations diminish the overall effect with their clockwork regularity: people enter the hospital, they have borderline-explicit sex (including many, MANY lingering shots of sloppy tongue-kissing--director Takaaki Hashiguchi clearly has a fetish), and then BOOM, ghostliness. The journalist's story is really just a framework for these vignettes. Basically it plays out like Skinemax international, only with better acting.

If you're the sort of person who likes ghostly urban legends and lots of nudity and sex, this is a good way to spend just over an hour of your time. Slight, but not terrible. 1.75 thumbs.

Nota bene: there are several movies based on this story, apparently, including this one from Asia Extreme. The one on Netflix instant is *not* that movie.

No more ribs before bedtime!

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Unholy (2007): or, Some Things are Better Left Unknown

 October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 9!

Pianist and GMILF Martha (the lovely and legendary Adrienne Barbeau) has her life turned upside down when her daughter Hope (Siri Baruc) commits suicide in the family cellar, after warning her mother cryptically to "beware the experiment." With her mostly useless stoner son Lucas (Nicholas Brendon) in tow, Martha starts digging into the dark history of their small town, which leads her to menacing encounters with the local creepy recluse Gertrude (Susan Willis, whom I mistook for Cloris Leachman until I read the end credits), the worlds most threatening florist (Richard Ziman), and into the bowels of local folklore involving Lester Krauss (Joseph McKenna), also known as The Necromancer. Much more than just a bedtime boogeyman, Krauss was apparently a Nazi occultist working on the "Unholy Trinity" of parapsychological powers--Invisibility, Mind Control, and Time Travel--under the post-war auspices of a shadowy US Government agency. As the plot unravels, Martha learns that not only was Hope a subject of Krauss's experiments, but so also was the entire town--herself and her son included. Soon she finds herself in a race to find out what really happened to her daughter, and perhaps to save history from the evil machinations of a time-traveling Nazi warlock--the worst kind!

I remember when Unholy was being hyped by certain horror websites and on messageboards back in '07--fans were of course excited to see Barbeau working in anything, and the Nazi occultism plot seemed a can't-miss premise. (If memory serves, I think there was even some kind of abortive Augmented Reality Game launched to build anticipation for the flick.) Then the hype seemed to disappear, and I forgot about the flick until it turned up in the Netflix instant queue.

Well, some things are indeed better left unknown, including the entirety of this terrible, terrible movie. It's hard to tell which is more at fault--the nonsensical script by Sam Freeman or the clunky direction of Daryl Goldberg--but both smell up the joint with alarming consistency. Goldberg substitutes dissonant orchestral stings for suspense, leaves out huge chunks of context, and drops in some of the worst CG I've seen since Barbie: Fairytopia. Barbeau gives it a decent shot (I wonder whether she realized what kind of stinker she had somehow signed on for), but even an actress of her ability is consistently hamstrung by the script's wooden dialogue and intelligence-assaulting contrivances. Ziman is entertaining as the confrontational storekeeper, and for his part McKenna makes a very creepy Nazi doctor, but the rest of the acting is uniformly bad--though again, perhaps we can't blame the actors, given what they had to work with.

Unholy tries to set up a time-twisting mystery thriller, but the only mystery I was interested in solving was how they got Barbeau to agree to be in it in the first place. 0.75 thumbs. Avoid.

"Get my agent out here...RIGHT NOW!"

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Ginger Snaps Back (2004): or, The Past is a Bitch, and So Am I

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 8!

In the winter of 1815, sisters Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and Brigitte (Emily Perkins) are traveling by river through the Canadian wilderness when their riverboat capsizes, their parents and protectors drown, and they find themselves stranded miles from civilization. As bad as that sounds, things get even worse: they discover an Indian camp that has recently been the scene of a slaughter--huge holes in the tepees, blood and guts everywhere, and the only survivor a mystical old seer whose predictions are (predictably) cryptic and grim. After Brigitte steps into an iron wolf trap, a strong but silent Native American hunter (Nathaniel Arcand) helps the girls to relative safety--a wooden fort under the command of a fur trading company. But the wary unwelcome they receive (and the inch-deep, bloody scratches on the heavily fortified gates) hint that there might be even more dangers in store for our intrepid siblings.

If you're familiar at all with the first two entries in this series, you'll know that the cause of all the trouble is a bad case of Werewolfery, which Hunter says the Europeans brought to their land, just like the plagues of small-pox and alcoholism. Running out of supplies and surrounding by a ferocious pack of man-beasts, the widowed Captain Wallace Rowlands (Tom McCamus) is also hiding a dark secret about the supposed death of his son--a secret that will of course land Ginger right in the middle of the full-moon madness, with Brigitte the only one she can count on to help her break the curse. But given the choice between sisterly loyalty and rescuing future generations from the Horror of the Werewolf, what will the kind-hearted but needy younger sibling do?

I was a big fan of Ginger Snaps (2000), finding it a refreshing, even invigorating entry in the werewolf subgenre, which had been languishing arguably ever since the triumph of 1981's monster masterpiece An American Werewolf in London. I also very much enjoyed the second entry, Ginger Snaps: Unleashed (2004, filmed back to back with its sequel), which in my humble should have been a star-making turn for Emily Perkins in a complex, harrowing role she absolutely knocked out of the park. I thought the movies had some great fresh ideas--I love the relationship between the outcast sisters, and the notion of the transformation as gradual and one-way; in this world, when you turn, you turn forever, making the race to find a cure that much more intense. However, I somehow missed this third installment, and the lukewarm reviews it received upon its release (much of which expressed bafflement at the decision to go period-piece with the story) did nothing to make me rush out and see it.

However, this many years after the fact and able to view it on its own merits, I found Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning a well-made, entertaining, and even thrilling modern werewolf movie. Director Grant Harvey makes good use of the Canadian wilderness and period sets, creating a believable window into the past. And DP Michael Marshall deserves props for his gorgeous shots of some absolutely beautiful scenery, to say nothing of his lensing of the exciting werewolf battles and dream sequences.

But of course the heart of all three movies is the relationship between sisters Brigitte and Ginger, their outsider status and absolute devotion to one another. While I found it extremely difficult to buy Isabelle as an 1800s teenage, Perkins once again turns in a fantastic, emotional performance--one which drew me in and made me concerned for her, and thus frightened and excited by the werewolves' attacks (and the menace from baddies inside the fort: leering Reverend Gilbert and battle-scarred soldier James (Hugh Dillon and JR Bourne, respectively). The other trapped trappers provide good performances as well, and the director gets some mileage out of the religious, racial, and personal tensions their precarious situation brings out.

Standing on its own, Ginger Snaps Back is a well-made period horror film that I think would make a good companion piece to fan-favorite Wendigo-flick Ravenous (1999), and could go toe-to-toe with it, for that matter. Another 2.5 thumb rating.

"I didn't mean to eat all the jelly donuts! OMG, Brigitte, help me!"

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The Baby's Room (2006): or, Chillin' in the Crib

October Horror Movie Challenge, Day 7!

Young parents Juan and Sonia (Javier Gutiérrez and Leonor Watling) and their infant son have just moved into their new home: a palatial but dilapidated old house that would ordinarily be far beyond their means, but which for some reason the realtors have priced within a mid-level sports journalist's budget. Before you can say "stop me if you've heard this one," they're hearing bumps in the night and strange voices on their baby's crib monitor. Juan goes hi-tech and purchases a home alarm system and a video monitor for his bouncing little boy's room, which only leads to more disturbing revelations: in the dead of night, the terrified father spies the shadowy figure of a man sitting beside his baby's bed! Rushing to the rescue with a butcher knife, Juan nearly skewers his confused and sleep-addled wife, who has witnessed none of this and is rightly concerned about her husband's mental well-being, to say nothing of the baby's safety and her own.

Alone in the house, Juan continues to see strange visions through the video monitor--furniture that isn't there, rooms arranged differently on the screen than in real life, and even more of the shadowy, cigarette-smoking man. Wondering if he is imagining it all and fearing for his own sanity, he is finally vindicated when his baby monitor-visions lead him to a secret room, apparently a doorway to another realm. There he discovers the identity of the shadowy man who has been haunting him, but the solution to that riddle only prompts more disturbing questions...as such things so often do, in cases like these.

I've heard a lot of positive buzz for The Baby's Room since its release in 2006 as part of the Spanish film series Peliculas para No Dormir (Films to Keep You Awake). I'm delighted to report that the good press is more than justified. Director Álex de la Iglesia and his writing partner Jorge Guerricaechevarría here deliver a creepy, thrilling, and inventive horror story that turns out to be much more than just your standard haunted house tale. Gutiérrez and Watling have great chemistry, and both turn in excellent performances. Also, I liked how the writer and director played with the conventions of the "endangered baby" story, here making Gutiérrez's Juan the "hysterical" figure, with Watlin's Sonia the supportive but disbelieving spouse. No spoilers on the cause for the haunting--but I thought it was pretty interesting, and I dug it a lot.

Well-photographed, well-acted, well-plotted, and well creepy, The Baby's Room is another winner from the new Spanish Horror revival.Recommended with 2.5 thumbs.

"And when I push *this* button, the baby will self-destruct!"

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Blu-Ray Review--MONAMOUR (2006): or, Tinto Brass's World of Asses

Mention the name Tinto Brass to fan of exploitational cinema, and you're bound to see a little gleam appear in his or her eye. As the writer and director of Salon Kitty (simultaneously one of the most lushly artistic and one of the grime-encrusted sleaziest examples of the Nazisploitation subgenre) and one of the directors of the historical epic Caligula (probably the most expensive and star-studded exploitation movie ever made), Brass has already staked out his place in the pantheon of Exploitation Godhood. Even if none of his later movies could possibly harness the power of that one-two punch to the crotch he delivered in 1976 and 1979, Brass has laurels enough to rest his haunches upon well into retirement.

But like many a movie-making madman, for Brass, resting on a pile of shrubbery was never an option. Film is not a vocation for men like Brass, Franco, and others--it's sustenance. They have to make movies, or else wither and die from creative starvation. Sure, the public's tastes change, the budgets get smaller and smaller, and perhaps the edge is dulled as the visionaries get older and their eyes less sharp, but they're still out there, making movies on whatever scale they can--because they must.

All that's by way of introducing Brass's 2006 movie, Monamour, recently released on Blu-Ray by Cult Epics. The film shows that Brass still has an eye for magnificent composition, lush design, and gorgeous Euroflesh of the highest order. It also shows that age has softened none of Brass's perverse obsessions, which here are in full and varied display. As a result, Monamour plays as either the dirtiest mainstream movie you ever saw*, or else the most lavish porn ever made**, with only the actual penetration scenes cut.

This is, of course, a recommendation.

* Caligula excluded.
** Ditto.

The plot is basically Unfaithful (2002) all over again. Prominent literary editor Dario (Max Parodi) has come to Mantova for a literary festival, bringing along his beautiful, free-spirited, and extremely restless young wife Marta (Anna Jimskaia). Six months into their marriage she is feeling the wane of what was once a passionate affair--no longer do they make love in public while bemused duck hunters look on, and she hasn't climaxed since she said "I do." (Marta records all this late at night in her journal--sitting at her writing desk, pantsless, while Brass gives us an up close and detailed view of her open marrone degli occhi.)

While looking at some explicitly sexual murals at the famous Palazzo del Te (including one of Jupiter's Erect Cock), Marta meets and mysterious stranger, Leon (Riccardo Marino), who seems to have been built in the same Sexy Factory as a young Antonio Banderas or Unfaithful's Olivier Martinez. Like that latter Latin Lothario, this Roman rapscallion uses the silent, forward, borderline-rapey seduction method that always seems to work in stories like these. Before you know it Marta is blowing Leon at a literary fest dinner, having anal sex with him in cafe restrooms, and dancing drunk and nearly naked in public squares, stopping only to quaff more champagne and stick her tongue down the younger man's throat. Of course it's not long before Dario starts getting suspicious (Marta's sudden distaste for wearing panties in public is one clue; her ass-baring dirty dance with Leon at the Lit Fest Ball is another), which paradoxically inflames his dormant desire for his wife to new heights. Is Marta's affair a marital tragedy, or a new kind of happy ending?

It's probably just as well that I don't have Blu-Ray screengrabbing capabilities as yet, because I would be hard-pressed to find a single frame of this film that I could post here without the Blogger Police shutting me down. As I said earlier: this is a porn, only without the actual penetration. Everything up to the very border of that--and I mean EVERYTHING--is present and accounted for. If you don't like seeing puckered starfish, turgid tube-steaks, spot-lit lady-parts,and lots and lots of simulated sex (of just about every configuration), then you had best stay well away from this one. Tinto also tips his hand as to his own personal "special needs," as we get many lovingly filmed odes to asses of all kinds, not to mention several scenes of Marta and her brazen confidant Sylvia (Nela Lucic) chatting while on toilets or otherwise squatting down to urinate.Threesomes, lesbianism, anal, masturbation, simulated-or-possibly-not oral sex--whatever floats your boat, chances are Brass has it covered.

So why does Brass tease the line of pornography without actually barreling over? Perhaps he thinks it's ugly, and Brass's work is about nothing if not the beauty of desire. The movie is sumptuously filmed, the compositions are striking and often gorgeous, and the sex scenes orchestrated for maximum artistic erotic impact. Whether the manner of sexual congress is to your taste or not, you still have to appreciate the artist's eye he brings to even the sleaziest material. It's a beautiful film to look at, and there's always something eye-pleasing on screen. With Monamour, Brass shows once again that he doesn't so much tread the line between sleaze and art, as he denies the existence of any such line.

Also included in this 2-disc set is a short film by Brass, Kick the Cock, which explores the ins and outs of special needs culinary study. Special features include making-of featurettes for both films, director's commentary, and trailers.

Monamour is a slight but sexy film, worth looking at for fans of Brass and Eurosleaze enthusiasts. Cult Epics has once again delivered an excellent Blu-Ray package for material other distributors might not touch with a ten-foot salami. 2 Thumbs. Stay sleazy, Tinto. Stay classy, Signor Brass.

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The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Rock n' Roll Musical (2003): or, Some Things are Not for Us to Sing

It often seems to me, parishioners, that making an independent horror movie is like running a creative marathon--just finishing is a praise-worthy accomplishment. The only cause for shame would be if you give up before reaching the goal, or took such shortcuts as to sully the glory of the unearned participatory medal at the end. I try to think of independent filmmakers as self-trained, self-sponsored marathoners, determined to get their vision out there through hours of sweat, tears, and sore muscles. Even if they're limping badly in the last mile or soil their spandex through an ill-considered over-exerting sprint, I still have to applaud their efforts.

I can only imagine, then, that making an independent horror MUSICAL must be like training for the abovementioned marathon, but with a 50-lb. sack of flour strapped to each leg and a 1930's Victrola around your neck. Why would anyone want to do that to himself?

But ours is not to question why--ours is but to watch and judge. If director Andre Champagne and actor/songwriter/script writer Alan Bernhoft are driven by some inscrutable passion to create a rock musical based on one of the horror genre's most-filmed properties--in 2003, forty years or more since the heyday of the American movie musical--I can only say "Go Team Dreamer!" and wish them well. Then crack open a beer, plant a tubfull of extra-butter popcorn in my lap, and watch the race begin. (MORE MADNESS!)

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DVD Review: Dolla Morte (2006)

Greetings friends!  It is I, the Duke of DVD, once more exhuming the corpse that is MAD cinema, and then proceeding to parade its moldering corpse through the streets of your local prefecture.  "But Duke!" you ejaculate, spraying orange dust from so many Cheetos out of your flattened, malformed maize-hole, "aren't the dead better left buried?!"  Normally this would be true, dearest reader.  One does not step lightly into the realm of necromancy.  I can attest to this.  But like a rutting pig, starved for attention now that its beloved owner, the Vicar, has left it for a new Pot Bellied, dig these truffles up I must!  How else will the Interwebs at large learn of such rotten stinkburgers as what I'm about to inflict upon thee?!

Inflict I must, dearest friends, for you too should know the horror the Duke has to endure on your behalf.  Oh sure, I sit upon a mahogany dais, polished for centuries by blind eunuchs, wrapped in my white tiger Snuggie, sipping a cocktail composed of gypsy orphan tears and sweet vermouth.  This luxury does not spare me, though, when the likes of Dolla Morte (newly released from MVD Entertainment) befoul the Ducal Blu-Ray Player!  Not all is lost, however, as you shall see.

Shall we begin?

Dolla Morte is a movie created by the evil genius (uh... I hate to use that word, but I'm afraid it's applicable here) Bill Zebub, a name which I wish I had thought of first.  An overly long explanation (I would say apology) starts the film, seemingly narrated by a King Diamond doll.  The end of the disclaimer--which basically says "Hey, this will piss you off if you aren't open-minded, and sorry if you are a celebrity we make fun of!"--lets us know that Bill Zebub wrote the liner notes for King Diamond's most excellent album Abigail, so he's got that going for him.  Credentials secure, we are launched into Bill's mind, which consists of an overly convoluted plot relating to immortality, death, and lots of violent sex.... and it's all done with dolls.

The director really wants you to know he's sorry for what's about to happen...

Now, the real mad genius here is, with dolls, anything goes.  Movies like Team America and shows like "Robot Chicken" (both of which are Ducal favorites) have taught us that with the use of dolls, nothing is beyond the realm of possibility.  The movie starts off with a rescue party searching for a missing woman, who happens to be the wife of one of the rescuers.  A serial killer has kidnapped her and has her tied to a chair. Very quickly, we know we aren't in Kansas anymore, as the killer strips the woman down to nothing and proceeds to have sex with her.  Keep in mind folks, this is done with fucking dolls, ok?  A prosthetic (ugh) penis has been attached to a Ken doll (at least it looks like a Ken doll--lots of Barbie-related merchandise in this movie) and a hole drilled into the female doll for this purpose.  This climaxes with a doll squirting semen.

And now I have to take a shower for having typed that last sentence.

The Vlad the Impaler Playset, new from Hasbro. (Traumatized NATO Peacekeeper figure sold separately)

Folks, I'm going to eschew my normal play-by-play because to type out this movie's plot would take the better part of 20,000 words or somewhere near that.  The movie even gives a Cliff's Notes rundown at the end, detailing the plot just in case you didn't get it all.  And it's a lot to get!  You have President George W. Bush plotting to become immortal by drinking vampire blood.  You have the Pope, first shitting in the woods (so that question's answered, at least) and then being sodomized by a long crucifix.  There are numerous female dolls being impaled, set on fire, raped, etc.  Hitler joins in on the fun.  Armies of soldier dolls wage warfare on each other.  My sanity could barely remain intact!

HOLY...ah, never mind, too easy

Oddly enough, I actually liked quite a bit of the movie.  Overall it was terrible, don't get me wrong, but it did have some redeeming values.  Several scenes had me chuckling as I shook my head and tried to keep my rising gorge down.  Others had me recoiling in disgust, while others still had me in rapt attention.  Friends, if a movie can do all of that, to one as jaded as yours truly, well then, you have yourselves something worthy of at least an afternoon glance, no?

"I can see my house from here!"

In the end, Bill Zebub and friends have taken their time to craft a stop-motion extravaganza full of doll pubic hair, doll rapey action, and doll-on-doll violence.  With a message, even.  What that message is perhaps gets lost in the rapey-ness, but hey, who are we to cast stones?  The question is, was I entertained?  The answer to that is:

One and a Half Thumbs Up

*Note - the half thumb is for the Pope being sodomized.  That scene alone was worth the price of admission, for me.  You have been warned, my dearest readers.*

*Note 2: MVD provided a copy of this film to MMMMMovies for review purposes, and the Vicar foisted it upon the Duke as punishment for an unspecified but doubtless deserved grievance. *

Godwin'd

The Ilsa & Friends Saturday Morning Kids show lasted only one and a half seasons.

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DVD Review: BRAIN DEAD (2007)

Director Kevin S. Tenney should be no stranger to fans of B-movie horror. In his more than two decades as a filmmaker, he has helmed such cheesetastic shlock-fests as Witchboard (1986), Night of the Demons (1986), The Cellar (1989), and Witchboard 2: The Devil's Doorway (1993). While these movies perhaps fail to earn a spot on most movie lovers' Top Ten lists, in most cases they succeed in delivering a goofy, goopy good time in the finest tradition of late 20th-century video horror.

Since Tenney was also the man at the helm for one of the Vicar's personal favorite entries in the mid-90s killer-doll boom--the relatively unknown and underrated 1996 effort Pinocchio's Revenge--I was intrigued to see what the director had been up to lately. And thanks to Breaking Glass Pictures' recent DVD release of Tenney's shot-on-video sci-fi/zombie comedy Brain Dead (2007), now I know.

The story here is nothing particularly new: while fishing with his drinking buddies in a remote cabin, an unlucky sportsman is nailed in the noggin with a falling asteroid. Unfortunately for the human race generally and this fisherman in particular, the space rock is carrying a worm-like, half-liquid parasite that quickly takes control of his gray matter and sends him on a murderous brain-eating rampage.

In a nearby rural town, vehicular scofflaw Clarence Singer (Joshua Benton) is chained Defiant Ones-style to captured murderer Bob Jules (David Crane), to be transported to the Big House in a bigger county. At the same time, standard-issue hypocritial minister Reverend Farnsworth (Parks and Recreations' Andy Forrest) is travelling through town with buxom secretary Amy Smoots (Cristina Tiberia), looking for a good spot to expiate his impure thoughts about the girl. Meanwhile, city girl Sherry Morgan (Sarah Grant Brendecke) and her closeted lesbian sorority sister Claudia Bush (Michelle Tomlinson) are hiking through the wilderness, lost thanks to Claudia's less-than-stellar map-reading skills. (Guess she earned her merit badges in other areas, IYKWIMAITYD.) Finally, Park Ranger Shelly (a very Darryl Hanna-esque Tess McVicker) answers a call from the fisherman's worried wife and heads out to the cabin to check on him for her.

Of course through a series of misadventures and coincidental cataclysms all of the above characters soon find themselves holed up in the fishing cabin where the monster has made its nest, forced to deal with both the extraterrestrial terror outside and the increasingly unhinged killer Bob. Friendships are forged, romances bloom, and comeuppances are received as the film rushes--or rather saunters--to its expectedly gory conclusion.

"You know, this has got me thinkin'..."

Whether you enjoy Brain Dead or not will depend largely on how well you like your cheese, and whether you're willing to put up with a certain amount of filler in between delicious bites. That filler consists mostly of forced, "witty" dialogue between various combinations of characters, all spoken by actors who for the most part have neither the dramatic nor comedic chops to make them work. Perhaps its by design that none of the characters react to their situation with anything like normal human responses, as no one in front of or behind the camera seems to be taking it particularly seriously--but this is one of those cases where the intended comedy is severely undercut by the characters being in on the joke. At times I half expected the score to be drowned out by a canned laugh track and a whimsical trombone lick--that dire.

But then there's the cheese--and for connoisseurs of the stuff, it's of a fairly high grade. While the meteor attack scenes boast some truly horrible CG that looks like it was done by a 12 year old on his MacBook, the makeup and gore effects are all practical, and pretty satisfying. The mutated zombie/parasite hosts are nicely done, each with his own particular look and personality. And when the space zombies attack, Tenney doesn't hold back: eyes are gouged out, holes are punched through faces, and craniums are split like walnut shells to get at the spongy pink brains within--which always come out in one piece, handy for snacking! The episodes of carnage are too few in my opinion--we could have lost several scenes of unfunny dialogue and replaced them with monster grue and everyone would have been a lot happier--but the ones we get have a gloriously gory 80s sensibility that many mad movie fans will be cheering.

The 2010 "Three Stooges" Reboot

So you've got beasts and blood, but what about boobs? Tenney doesn't skimp on that staple either: the flesh on display is plentiful and varied, as none of the actresses are shy about shedding their summer dress in the name of Art. It's all modelling stuff with no sex scenes--sorry, pervs--but there is one startling effect wherein a bit of the alien goo finds a way into the cabin using the old Trojan Horse technique...though it ain't no horse, if you get my drift. (The graphic close-up here is prosthetic--I hope--but nonetheless effective for it.)

The acting is mostly bad, as I said: Sarah Grant-Brendecke has a certain charisma over and above her curvy pin-up gorgeousness, and comes off the best of the lot; no one else really distinguishes him or herself. Directorially Tenney lets the pacing drag quite a bit, but the monster and gore scenes have an undeniable energy, and die-hard 80s horror fiends should be able to spot a few homages to flicks of the era. (I counted at least three Evil Dead nods, for instance.) And I'd be remiss not to mention that legendary schlock director Jim Wynorski has a cameo as Sheriff Bodine, so watch for that.

DVD extras will include commentary by Tenney and the cast, a behind-the-scenes featurette, deleted scenes and bloopers, and trailers, but were not available on the review copy I received.

Brain Dead isn't going to change anyone's life, and probably won't better anyone's opinion of Tenney--but it shouldn't harm his reputation either. If you're looking for something to pass the time--something with lots of gore and nudity that doesn't ask too much of your higher thinking functions--then this one fits the bill. 2 thumbs. 

I can get behind it.

Breaking Glass Pictures provided a copy of this movie to MMMMMovies for review purposes.

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DVD Reviews: HEAVY MENTAL (2009) and DEAD EYES OPEN (2008)

It's a maxim that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. If that old saw is true, then the two recent indie film releases from Troma Team DVD, the low-brow gross-out horror-comedy Heavy Mental (2009, written and directed by Mike C. Hartman) and the more serious zombie apocalypse flick Dead Eyes Open (2008, written and directed by Ralf Mollenhoff) should be very flattering indeed to their respective inspirators. As imitations go, both are pretty spot-on, at times almost to the point of slavishness.

Hartman's flick, for instance, seems to want nothing more than to be a full-fledged Lloyd Kaufman-style boobs, blood, and boogers flick. Specifically, it wants to be The Toxic Avenger. In Heavy Mental, aspiring young metal guitarist Ace Spade (Josh Hooper) receives a guitar once owned by his heavy metal idol and convicted murderer Eddie Lee Stryker (Hartman) as a birthday present from his two gay dads. At band practice Ace discovers that the guitar gives him superhuman shredding ability, making his band a shoe-in to win the upcoming Detroit Battle of the Bands competition. When local crimelord and heavy metal hater Mrs. Delicious (Brenna Roth) decides to blow up the nightclub where the competition is taking place, thus putting an end to Metal in Detroit in one swell foop, Ace is possessed by the spirit of Eddie Stryker and transformed into a hulking, musclebound, skull-faced Monster of Metal to put a stop to her unrighteous schemes.

A rare photo from Skeletor's Glam Metal period.

Monster Ace (Denny Hundiak) becomes a grotesque crimefighter in the Toxic Avenger mold, wielding a guitar instead of a mop to make Detroit safe for metal-loving losers of all stripes. His various encounters with Mrs. Delicous's minions are straight out of the Troma handbook--he rescues the owners of a Daughter-and-Pop Porn Shop from thugs by rippng the miscreants' arms off, decapitating them with his "axe," and exploding their torsos with a blast of a riff-based laserbeam. Other Troma-esque characters show up to get gruesomely murdered: a morbidly obese Hot Dog Eating Competition Champ (in novelty nerd glasses and an ACTUAL propeller beanie, to give you an idea of the humor-sophistication level) strokes his trophy "I'm the Weiner! I'm the Weiner!"; a pair of slutty lesbians rip his guts out and then make out in the blood and half-digested weiners (cartoon squeaky-boob/tongue-flapping sound fx? Of course!), and one of Mrs. Delicous's henchmen is a half-gangster, half-rooster hybrid mutant who communicates in clucks and lays a giant goo-filled egg in fright. And Uncle Lloyd himself cameos as the recording company executive who signs Ace's band in the expectedly upbeat if caro syrup-sticky conclusion.

It has to be said that Heavy Mental hits what it aims for rather well. Plot-wise, effects-wise, lowbrow humor-wise, it's mostly indistinguishable from actual Troma product--maybe a little obviously cheaper and with a smidgen less charisma from the cast. Still, Hartman and his performers' enthusiasm cannot be questioned. But for some reason, the imitation pales for me in comparison to the real thing. Maybe because when Lloyd and Co. do this stuff, it's THEIR stuff--like it or hate it, they're doing what they do and making no apologies. Heavy Mental feels like Hartman copping someone else's schtick--specifically, Mr. Kauffman's. That's a tough row to hoe--after all, by definition NOBODY can be more Lloyd-like than at Lloyd, so you're bound to fall short.

Heart of Rock n' Roll: Still Beatin'

If you're a hardcore Tromite and can't wait for Uncle Lloyd's next feature, Heavy Mental might be a nice snack between meals. Still, personally, if I wanted to watch Toxic Avenger--well, I'd just watch Toxic Avenger. 1.5 thumbs.

The German-language indie zombie flick Dead Eyes Open worked a little better for me. Like Heavy Mental, Ralf Mullenhoff's movie also wears its influences on its sleeve, and features a cameo from the creator of its main inspiration: in this case, universally acknowledged zombie-movie king George A. Romero. Most would say emulating Romero's zombie expertise is a bit loftier a goal than trying to fill Kaufman's effluvia-soaked sandals, but I can't blame Mullenhoff for aiming high--especially when he takes such an above-average shot at it.

Though it has to be said, the movie doesn't start out that promising. A group of six friends decide to take a real wilderness vacation, putting aside cellphones, computers, iPods, and all other modern technological distractions. They even take the extreme (and credulity-sinking) step of having only one of their group know the exact location they'll be camping, and having him drive the others there in a windowless police van, PURPOSEFULLY running out of gas en route. I know they do things diffently on the Continent, but really? Could this EVER be a good plan? It doesn't help that the characters are the defniition of 2-dimensional cardboard movie "types": there's the Drunk Party Guy, the Nerdy Tech Guy who's Lost Without his iPhone, the Sports Fanatic, the Rugged Outdoorsman, the Bitchy Athletic Chick and the Mousy But Resourceful Girlfriend. They all have names, but you'll forgive me if I can't remember them.

Another Pretty Face

Of course the friends have picked the worst possible time for an extended wilderness outing, as without their modern amenities they don't get word that the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE began while they were stranding themselves in the middle of nowhere. Their camping spot selection is also unfortunate, as it's right next to a rural family graveyard where the dead are starting to rise. Bitchy Athletic Chick is bitten and sickens, leading the stranded young people to seek help at a nearby farmhouse where a creepy old lady is keeping her dead-but-still-kicking husband imprisoned in the garden. All hell predictably breaks loose, and the dwindling group of city-dwellers must fend off not only the living dead, but also a series of psychopathic rural folk who the apocalypse only brings out the worst in.

Once the zombie action starts, the movie actually does pretty well, with several suspenseful set-pieces. Mullenhoff generates some genuine unease in the farmhouse with the crazy shell-shocked hausfrau, who knows Athletic Chick is a biohazardous time-bomb just waiting to explode. The house itself is a great setting, full of shadows and dust-filled rooms containing who knows what unspeakable secrets. Back at the camp, Resourceful Girlfriend and Sports Fanatic are trapped in the van by some of the zombies, and once the male half of the couple meets his gruesome end, the girl must decide whether to stay holed up in the blacked-out van or make a break for it. Once again, the suspense and terror are handled rather well here. And a later set-piece, in which Geeky Guy and Resourceful Girl float downriver on an inflatable raft, under a railway bridge from which a legless zombie is waiting to drop on them, is inventive and exciting.

Frau Pemmican

Eventually this couple of friends make it to a farmhouse where a psychopathic farmer is keeping his dead wife's corpse under wraps, and an invading police force--who actually ARE trying to be helpful--tied up in a pigsty for zombie bait. The farmer, played by Roland Riemer, is a wonderfully creepy character, and like the redneck killers in Night of the Living Dead and the chaos-strewing bikers in Day of the Dead, really more of a monster than the zombies. Speaking of those movies, George A. Romero shows up on TV at the first house as a scientist and "the best known expert" on the zombie apocalypse--a nice touch. He tells the audience in bald terms (and badly dubbed German) what the original Dead trilogy always showed: "People are unable to cooperate. If we worked together, we might have a chance. If and only if. But people won't work together."

One thing that softened my opinion toward the movie was its attempts at a unique style. Portions of the film are shot in distressed, faded filmstock-style, an obvious digital effect but still enough to make the movie visually interesting. Though some viewers may have the opposite reaction and be annoyed by it, I appreciated this attempt to make the movie something besides the cookie-cutter shot-on-video glossiness. The zombie effects are low-budget but practical, and hearken back to Romero's first two zombie epics in a way that many fans of those films will appreciate. And the filmmakers don't skimp on the goopy stuff--there's plenty of raw meat (chicken) gnoshing, skin pulled away in the teeth, streaming blood and exposed bones to satisfy the gorehounds out there. There's even a ribcage/pig-guts effect that's used twice (perhaps ill-advisedly--the obvious use of the same apparatus for two different characters pulls one out a bit), another possible homage to King George. The keyboard score is also pretty good, minus a badly out-of-place rockabilly song in the opening credits.

Also in the film's favor: Everything is Scarier in German. This is a known fact.

German Hospitality

Dead Eyes Open doesn't break any new ground, but it pays respect to its influences without being a direct copy, and managed to hold my interest throughout. It hits all its marks but doesn't seem slavishly devoted to aping its predessors, which works to its credit in my opinion. Not a game-changer, but still a pretty enjoyable indie zombie flick, and George knows we need more of those. 2 thumbs.

Both DVDs are available from Troma Team releasing, and were provided to Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies by the company for review purposes.

Aufiderzein!

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DVD Reviews: DARKNESS (2009) and BRAINJACKED (2009)

Here are a couple of new releases from Breaking Glass Pictures, a distribution company I admit I'd never heard of before they contacted me, asking me to review some of their upcoming horror offerings. I've been in the horror blogging biz long enough to know that it's often dangerous to take screeners from strangers; every now and then you get something interesting and worthwhile, but more often you get something...well, somewhat less so. Still, I wouldn't have got where I am today without being willing to thrust my hand in the bucket and see if I can dig out a pearl, no matter how many times I come up with a fistful of chitterlings instead. So, knowing the risks, I accepted their generous offer.

In this case I'm very glad I did, because if the two movies they sent for initial consideration are any indication, I'm going to want to keep an eye on their future releases. And that means, of course, that you should too.

We start with Darkness (2009, dir. Juraj Herz), a moody, atmospheric ghost story from the Czech Republic. (It was originally titled T.M.A., which I guess means something to Czech readers?) Successful musician Marek (Ivan Franek) is taking some time off from his rock n' roll, clubbing lifestyle to return to his rural home village and focus on expressing himself through painting. Marek's parents were killed in a car crash more than 20 years earlier, when Marek was 7 years old, and he hasn't been back to the family estate since. Apparently no one has, as the place looks like the Haunted Mansion ride at Eastern Bloc EuroDisney, all cobwebs and thick layers of dust and icky rusty water gurgling from the pipes. Wanting to get his head together and separate himself from the rat race, Marek has purposefully left his cell phone charger in the city, which you just KNOW is going to turn out to be a wise decision on his part.

Marek: the Justin Beiber of the Czech Republic

Marek gets down to producing paintings--VERY prolifically, I must say, soon filling the decrepit house with eerie, expressionistic nudes--and soon begins to unearth repressed memories from his childhood, in which he and his now-institutionalized sister performed strange rituals in the basement of their house, which just so happened to have been a Nazi hopsital in WWII where experiments were conducted on Downs Syndrome children. As he reacquaints himself with childhood sweetheart, foxy redhead Lucie (Lenka Krobotová), he begins hearing and seeing strange things around the house--radios come on by themselves, always playing a children's choir singing the Czech version of "Frere Jacques," and ghostly figures come in and out of the darkness. He learns disturbing things from the town archivist about the house's history, and when his sister escapes the institution, it all comes to a head in a creepy climax.

I'm being purposefully vague on the details here, since Darkness is one of those movies that rewards curiosity and lack of foreknowledge. Herz directs the film with an assured talent, giving the audience enough to keep them interested without spoon-feeding like the inevitable American remake is sure to do. The cinematography is just gorgeous, with deep shadows and sparsely used filters evoking a very creepy tone. The acting is great too, particularly from the two leads, but also from Lucie's father and the town archivist who may or may not have a darker history of his own. The ghost story elements are handled expertly, and while the threads of the story and subplots down't always mesh exactly, the end result is still satisfying. It's also a very sexy movie, with a few well-shot sex scenes and lots of nudity (bonus points for not being of the anorexic, Hollywood Barbie variety--by necessity, no doubt, but still, Vicar likes), so really it left me wanting for nothing.

Lenka Krobotová, trapped relaxing in the Vicarage garden yesterday

In short, if you like creepy, well-made ghost stories that are beautiful to look at and feature Czech rock music and lots of Czech sex, then you should definitely "czech" Darkness out! (HAW!)

On the other side of the Mad Movie coin we have Brainjacked (2009, written and directed by Andrew Allan). The flick follows the adventures of Tristan (Chris Jackson), a young man from a supremely dysfunctional family (as in, we first meet him as he awakes to find his stepfather throwing a gangbang/drug party, with Tristan's mom as the main entertainment) who is also plagued by debilitating migraines. Running away from home, Tristan falls in with angelic pixie-girl Laney (Somali Rose), who gets him into the halfway home of philanthropic neurosurgeon Dr. Karas (Rod Grant) where she and a bevy of other runaways/former migraine sufferers have found a kind of communal paradise. The reason for the "former" qualifier is Dr. Karas's unique, 100% effective treatment for migraines: the ancient art of trepanation!

It should come as no surprise that Dr. Karas is a Mad Scientist of the first order, and has some dark ulterior motives behind his seemingly selfless procedures. After a few weeks of happiness at the commune (and a "falling-in-love-with-Laney" montage, naturally), Tristan discovers that Dr. Karas has done more than cure their headaches--he's implanted a mind control device in each perforated cranium, turning his devoted patients into mindless automatons he plans to use to infiltrate the highest echelons of society for the usual Mad Scientist reasons. After a fight with some of Karas's grotesque surgical "failures" knocks the control unit out of Tristan's skull, he liberates Laney and together they try to expose the bad doctor. But Karas's influence goes further than they think, as everyone they meet seems to have that same tell-tale forehead scar...

This movie has much more of a shot-on-video, indie-production feel than the glossy, high-budget-looking Darkness, but it overcomes that with good low-budget set design, some interesting lighting, and a mad science storyline wild enough to keep you interested. The performances range from amateur to pretty great. Johnson as Tristan is fairly bland and deadpan, though he pulls off the migraine pain believably. Christopher Sarlls, who plays rebellious former patient Zane, delivers all his lines as if instructing you on the pronunciation of his own last name, in a Wolverine/Batman tough-guy snarl that is so overblown it's hard not to make fun of (so don't try). Rose does better as Laney, and is a feast for the eyes in her white mini-dress, matching stockings, and intricately braided coiffure.

My stars! No garters!

But the best by far is Rod Grant as Dr. Karas, who plays the mad scientist with an eeevil glee that's contagious. Like all the best mad scientist portrayers, Grant really makes you feel his character's unflinching faith in his own mad schemes, and delivers the entertainingly outrageous pseudoscience with admirable conviction.

Example: "I'm going to drill a hole in his skull to alleviate pressure and recalibrate cranial blood volume....You see, sometimes our brains grow too large for our skulls...this drill removes more than bone marrow...it removes the barriers of the mind...and once you are free, nothing can stop you from your destiny!"

Sounds good to me! Also, kudos to writer/director Allan for going the extra mile and giving Karas a Lionel Atwill-worthy artificial hand, which he can snap off and switch with a cranial drill attachment to perform his life-changing trepanations! Something we don't see enough of, in my opinion. More kudos for using practical effects for the movie's numerous and subtantial gore scenes, some of which I admit had me cringing in my seat. In fact, I'd say Brainjacked is one of the better low-budget indie horror flicks I've seen in a while, thanks to an unusual, creative premise, a mostly well-thought-out and delivered narrative, and Mad Movie style to spare.

"Is it safe?"

Both Darkness and Brainjacked are scheduled to street in mid-September 2010. The screeners I received had no extras to speak of (not even chapter selection), but I'm guessing (hoping?) this was merely for the review copies and not the final retail versions. The picture looked great on both, though, and the films themselves are worth seeing, so keep an eye on Breaking Glass Pictures' online store if either piques your interest. 2.5 thumbs for both flicks, and the Vicarious stamp of approval.

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