One Flew Over the Martian's Nest

I don’t think I’ alone in remembering movies from my childhood more as moments than full narratives. I couldn’t tell you much about my family’s VHS copy of Invaders From Mars, save for those specific images that stuck: a mother eating raw beef, icky open wounds on the back of adults’ heads, and Louise Fletcher practicing Grandma Foxworth’s diction screaming a-e-i-o-u (in my own re-imagining, she adds “and sometimes y”).

Naturally, when it popped up on Instant Watch, it was a natural experiment to see how Tobe Hooper's little loved sci-fi/horror remake played to my adult sensibilities.

Quick Plot: Young Hunter Carson lives happily in the suburbs with his mom and NASA employed dad. One night, he spots what a possible UFO landing just over the hill outside his window. Dad takes a walk to investigate and returns a little ... off.

Just give it one more day and a parents-only walk before Mom is serving up blackened bacon and eating raw chopped meat. At school, Hunter begins to suspect his teacher may also be under some form of extraterrestrial influence, and not JUST because she happens to be played by Nurse Ratched. 

Thankfully, Hunter is able to convince the friendly school nurse Linda (genre stalwart Karen Black) that something is amiss. Together they discover a series of underground tunnels occupied by giant, fleshy ball creatures with long legs and almost adorable t-rex arms, plus their master who resembles what I assume would happen if a baseball had sex with a meatball, the meatball took thalidomide when pregnant then drank steroid-infused clamato while breastfeeding.

Slightly cute, but mostly ugly.

Invaders From Mars is a remake of a classic (though unseen by me) sci-fi film from the golden ‘50s. This version starts with a fair amount of complicated pedigree: Alien creator Dan O’Bannon on script duties and Texas Chainsaw Massacre director Tobe Hooper behind the camera. Fresh off of the alien (and boob)-filled Lifeforce and slightly distanced from the controversial Poltergeist, Hooper seems to approach Invaders from a rather in-between style. With its child protagonist and PG rating (although a 1986 PG is generally translated into a 2014 PG-13), Invaders From Mars certainly feels like it’s made for a younger audience. On the other hand, some of the violence and general theme of Martians landing on our planet to possess your parents, eat your teachers, shoot your war heroes, and poke a hole through your neck is rather rough stuff for the kiddie crowds.

More problematic is the pacing. My understanding of the original film is that it follows a similar feel to Invasion of the Body Snatchers, with a slow build of suspense with special attention to its Cold War analogy. Hooper’s film has other aims. We get one quick but sweet scene setting the Carsons up as a happy family before immediately pulling them apart. It’s not that every monster movie with a child lead has to include the obligatory ‘only the kid knows the truth!’ trope, but Invaders moves so fast that there’s not even time for the intelligent adults to question him.

It’s strange. There’s so much about Invaders From Mars that’s almost awesome. You’ve got a super duper supporting cast filled with the likes of Timothy Bottoms, Laraine Newman (with a Coneheads reference to boot!), and James Karen, all of whom clearly relish the chance to go big. The effects by Stan Winston and John Dykstra are genuinely great, and plenty of weird touches (Fletcher’s zombie-teacher-intimidating-through-vowel-reciting, for one) that keep the film on a kind of special radar.

It’s not really enough. I enjoyed watching Invaders From Mars, but to call it a good film would be a lie. And reader, would I ever lie to you?

High Points

Enough really can’t be said about the creature design of Invaders’ Martians. Gooey, ugly, and genuinely not of this world. Also, they shoot lasers. That’s never bad

Low Points

I don’t really want to even talk about the ending because it made me that mad, so we’ll just leave that right there

Lessons Learned

Always keep a sack of pennies on you. They might cause you to run with a limp and almost get caught by clumsy martians or schoolteachers, but it's worth it

Marines have no qualms about killing martians (although they never carry spare change into combat)

Astronauts need to stay up late

Rent/Bury/Buy

Just 90 minutes on Instant Watch, Invaders From Mars is certainly worth a look for those interested in sci-fi, heavy practical effects, or true ‘80s genre cinema. I can’t imagine anyone will declare this an unheralded classic, but it’s a weird little oddity that should prove entertaining on one level or another. I mean, lasers. Who doesn’t love ‘em?

NERD ALERT! Shock Value

If you're even a ticket stub-size as movie nerdy as I am, then you're most likely always on the lookout for a good physical BOOK (remember those?) about genre film. There are the personal library shelf standards--Carol Clover’s Men Women & Chainsaws, Kim Newman's Nightmare Movies or the Joe Bob Briggs canon, to name a few--along with less impressive works, generally those that aim for unworthy self-importance or offer nothing more than tidbits gleamed from a director commentary track.

TLC Book Tours sent me, and many of my favorite fellow film bloggers Jason Zinoman’s new book, Shock Value, now available from Penguin Press. Focusing on a handful of auteurs who helped shape horror as we know it today, Zinoman explores how American horror of the late 1960s and 1970s evolved past its playful, mostly innocent roots into something realer, bleaker, and deeper.

Wes Craven, John Carpenter, Dan O'Bannon, George Romero, Roman Polanski, William Friedken and Brian De Palma get the most attention as Zinoman’s writing shapes just how they came to make their flagship films. Yes, some of the anecdotes have been heard before in interviews and DVD extras, but Zinoman lays it out in a manner that's both comprehensive and interesting, lending insight into how everything from Craven’s strained relationship with his Christian mother to Hooper’s experience documenting a shooting victim’s death in an ER led to such creations as Last House On the Left and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Virtually every horror fan with a DVD player knows about William Shatner's connection to Michael Meyers, but most have never learned the decades-long saga of John Carpenter’s frenemy-like relationship with his one-time collaborator and pal, the late Dan O’Bannon. O’Bannon, the superbrain behind Alien and creator of Return of the Living Dead, might very well be one of horror and science fiction’s most important figures of all time, yet it’s rare that the writer/director gets his due. Unlike most of the other directors on profile, Zinoman follows a large chunk of O’Bannon’s career, including everything from his work on Dark Star to how his Crohn’s disease birthed (pun sorta intended) one of cinema’s scariest scenes of all time. It’s refreshing to get a fair and multi-faceted portrait of a criminally underrated talent, even if it means making Carpenter, long-time hero of genre fans, come off as, well, a bit of a jerk.

For the other filmmakers, Zinoman narrows his focus to their earlier work, using the common misconception of Hitchock’s grandfatherly status in the new wave of horror as a starting point. "As influential as he was, the notion that Hitchcock is the inventor of the modern horror genre is overstated," Zinoman claims, citing the explanatory nature of Psycho’s coda as the exact opposite of what the Shock Value subjects did with their own nihilistic spins. The Exorcist is commonly referenced as the key representative of this brand of horror, but I’d never quite heard how Friedken’s interest in the work of minimalist playwright Harold Pinter lent so much to general structure and ambiguity of the film (something author William Blatty fought against and lost until the special edition released 20 years later). 

Some territory has been well-tread, including a few morally dubious tricks Polanski used on Mia Farrow during Rosemary’s Baby and how Gunnar Hanson was so miserable while playing Leatherface that he actually found himself wanting to hurt Marilyn Burns’ Sally. What Zinoman does well with some commonly-known facts is put them in context. To explain the evolution of how Rosemary’s Baby went from a gimmick-ready William Castle film to the Oscar winning classic it became while following it up with an examination of Peter Bogdanovich’s controversial yet rarely discussed Boris Karloff vehicle Targets helps to create a dynamic timeline of the new horror cinema.

A writer for the New York Times, Jason Zinoman clearly knows and cares for genre films, and it’s refreshing to hear a balanced but passionate voice on the subject. Though  his closing chapters feel a tad too dismissive of modern horror, Zinoman does make a strong case for just why these titans of blood and guts will probably never quite be matched. It’s not that their films are perfect (in fact, even the author seems to objectively point out one issue or another with virtually all of the touchstones on display here) but the mere combination of U.S. culture and the newfound independent market simply gave way to a type of filmmaking that tapped into something deeper than ever before or, so far, since. “These are movies that want to confuse you, in part because getting lost focuses the attention on the terror of uncertainty,” writes Zinoman. “They endure, like great art does.”

Shock Value isn’t the end-all for genre studies, but those on the lookout for a good read on the subject will most certainly find some new nuggets worthy of exploration. While there's plenty of ground around and within the films that could still use some attention, the book provides an interesting thesis on the development of modern horror while also offering a few new perspectives on classic and underlooked films.  It may also give you plenty to argue with, so pack some post-its in your beach bag and enjoy some summer reading the right way.

Get a Life...force

But not at this unswanky joint! You want naked alien vampires, angry nun zombies, dried out bat people and some Patrick Stewart face melting? Pack up your day bag and head over to one of (okay, really THE) best horror websites on this wild wild web, The Blood Sprayer! No raincoats required.

Over yonder, I'll be joining a kicking all-star team (wherein I'll probably be picking daisies in right field). We're right in the middle of the first Dan O'Bannon Week, a whole seven days with multiple posts devoted to the late great sci-fi master. I'm today's party pooper, as delving into his 1985 big budget flop collaboration with Tobe Hooper was certainly NOT the best way to honor a man responsible for far greater work (including Alien and one of my absolute favorites, Total Recall).


So head over to The Blood Sprayer to read my take, and stay for the far happier articles on all things O'Bannon. It will make your life better.


Another way to achieve the same effect? Queuing up Total Recall.

Because that my friends, is happiness in a disguise bomb.

Film Club Funhouse!

When Final Girl Stacie Ponder announced The Funhouse as this month’s Film Club choice, I smiled wider than the laughing fat lady who so eloquently frames the movie itself.

Love. Her.

And almost love The Funhouse, Tobe Hooper’s 1981 slasher is a perennial Doll’s House watch, one I grew up with via the USA Network and a well watched VHS tape. Though it never ascended to Killer Klowns-levels of adoration territory, this was something of a classic (by my definition) and one that I was excited to watch from a reviewing point of view.

Quick Plot: Two naughty teen couples (including one halved by Elizabeth “The Cop From The John Larroquette Show” Berridge as goodish girl Amy) decide to spend the night in a traveling carnival’s funhouse. Really, who can blame them? Between the dancing skeleton, horrifying animatronics, giant eyeball and comfy Alice In Wonderland-like grass, who wouldn’t want to lose their virginity inside?

Unfortunately, there’s the unpleasant business of catching the funhouse barker’s son breaking the neck of the sexy (to some) old fortune teller, played with great trashiness by an Academy Award nominee who in my heart, will always be Meryl Streep’s mom in She-Devil.

Have I told you lately that I love She-Devil?

Before you can pass the douche on the left hand side, the quartet is being hunted by the mutant murderer and his abusive pops, played with the same hatable Irish American charm actor Kevin Conway brought so devilishly to his role on Oz.

Rewatching The Funhouse for the first time in a few years, I was struck by a few happy factors I’d somehow never noticed. Primarily, as a horror film, it’s kind of awesome.

Now, I’m not calling The Funhouse a wrongly underrated masterpiece, but it is something of a dusty diamond in the rough of sleazy cinema. Hooper takes his time establishing the carnival as a seedy, potentially evil setting rich with cooky old crazies (at least three by my count) and mutated cows. 

At the same time, Larry Block’s script never quite ascends past typical. We know pretty quickly who will make it to the morning, even though Hooper does manage to squeeze some intense tension from a few key chases. Likewise, we get a mini-subplot involving Amy’s little brother and his Halloween-like hobbies, but where does it really go other than a brief scene of irony? And another fabulous scene with his and Amy’s grouchier than Oscar wet towels of parents, which in fairness, is super.

So as for story, The Funhouse could certainly use a stylish haircut. Something unexpected and new, like The Rachel highlighted with snakes. We don’t get that, but that doesn’t necessarily take away from the eerie atmosphere or lingering ickiness of a messy psuedo-rape scene. The film succeeds in making you tense and upset. I just wish it did a tad more.

High Points

We’re all agreed that the opening credits are about as perfect as anything in this world could possibly get, yes?

Tobe Hooper gets his share of sometimes deserved criticism, but jiminy jippers is this a well directed and shot film (extra kudos to cinematographer Andrew Laszio, he of Newsies, Southern Comfort, and everybody’s life-changing classic, Ghost Dad). You can pull out quite a bunch of stand-alone scenes that show just how effective his style is, including a few minutes following Amy’s rascally little brother that are done in complete, utter, and rather terrifying silence

An imposing score can sometimes kill a not too deep horror film, but John Beal’s music--a catchy blend of ominous circusness--amplifies the tension to pretty fabulous levels

Low Points

I know this was the early ‘80s, a time when strong women were confined to jobs that required shoulder pads, but did final girl Amy have to be such a helpless coward who could only stand and cry while her date’s being stabbed in front of her eyes?

Lessons Learned

You risk the ire of blonds when you preach...especially in bathrooms

Things most college aged girls of the 1980s didn’t like seeing with their sweethearts: preserved displays of mutated fetuses, nudie shows, and murder

Yet another reason not to smoke (you know, dropping a lighter upon the monster you’ve just seen kill a woman with his bare hands)

If you play your cards right on a first date, you can lose your virginity. If you play them wrong, you can be dry humped by a mutant

Rent/Bury/Buy

Though not without its problems, The Funhouse deserves a viewing from every genre fan. What it lacks in story innovation it more than makes up for with incredible mood, from the titular carnival ride to the effective stalk ‘n slash sequences underneath its floors. Sadly the DVD offers nothing but subtitles, making it not the best investment of your cash. At the same time, this is a film that you can go back to quite often. The brisk pacing and circus-like atmosphere makes it inherently rewatchable, at least if you have a soft spot for scantily clad middle aged fortune tellers and dark rides.

So rent the movie if you dare, but first, head over to Final Girl to check out all the other kool kids and their reviews. If you’re lucky, they just might wiggle and dance. 

That’s right, they wiggle AND they dance.