"Through the Fire" follows a young Texan woman who teams up with a police officer to locate her missing sister. The two uncover a cabal of amateur Satanists who have conjured a powerful demon.
Filmed in the mid-1980s and not made available until 1997 (on VHS, when it was branded under an alternate title as a sequel to Lucio Fulci's "The Gates of Hell"), this regional horror flick is a mashup of monster movies, possession flicks, and hard-boiled Texas noir. Running just under 90 minutes, "Through the Fire" is jam-packed, and has a fun, zany energy about it. The dark material is undercut with buddy humor between the female lead and the hunky, handsome cop as they attempt to unravel the mystery behind her sister's disappearance.
The film at times resembles something of a slasher, with brief, arbitrary sequences such as a nighttime garage murder and a jarring rock-climbing sequence, both of which could fit perfectly in any number of backwoods '80s slasher movies. The occult theme is rather ridiculous, and attempts at explaining it via a professor character seem hamfisted, as do the silly sequences in which the dilettante cultists are chastised for their dabbling by an apparent self-proclaimed witch who looks like she could have been plucked from a Bauhaus concert.
The funny thing about "Through the Fire" is that all of these things wash over the viewer in waves with little clarity; the characters (aside from the two leads) often seem to go nameless, and the editing decisions further contribute to a general narrative fogginess, but the film possesses enough intrigue to hold your attention, boasting effective uses of location and enough atmosphere (those '80s interiors!) and weirdness to leave you hanging on. The film seems to move past its amateur fumbling in the final act, which takes place in a truly spooky abandoned skyscraper hotel--here, the film really shines, and for a fleeting moment, feels like a George Romero zombie epic.
All in all, "Through the Fire" is a strange mix of genres and plot devices that technically shouldn't work, but, in the end, there is something oddly charming about it. For fans of B-horror movies from this era, it will more than likely prove an entertaining viewing experience. It also offers a time-capsule view of mid-'80s greater Dallas, which, as the film largely takes place at night, makes for an effective backdrop for all the shenanigans to unfold. Hold out for the explosive "Rambo-meets-Dawn of the Dead" finale. 7/10.
Filmed in the mid-1980s and not made available until 1997 (on VHS, when it was branded under an alternate title as a sequel to Lucio Fulci's "The Gates of Hell"), this regional horror flick is a mashup of monster movies, possession flicks, and hard-boiled Texas noir. Running just under 90 minutes, "Through the Fire" is jam-packed, and has a fun, zany energy about it. The dark material is undercut with buddy humor between the female lead and the hunky, handsome cop as they attempt to unravel the mystery behind her sister's disappearance.
The film at times resembles something of a slasher, with brief, arbitrary sequences such as a nighttime garage murder and a jarring rock-climbing sequence, both of which could fit perfectly in any number of backwoods '80s slasher movies. The occult theme is rather ridiculous, and attempts at explaining it via a professor character seem hamfisted, as do the silly sequences in which the dilettante cultists are chastised for their dabbling by an apparent self-proclaimed witch who looks like she could have been plucked from a Bauhaus concert.
The funny thing about "Through the Fire" is that all of these things wash over the viewer in waves with little clarity; the characters (aside from the two leads) often seem to go nameless, and the editing decisions further contribute to a general narrative fogginess, but the film possesses enough intrigue to hold your attention, boasting effective uses of location and enough atmosphere (those '80s interiors!) and weirdness to leave you hanging on. The film seems to move past its amateur fumbling in the final act, which takes place in a truly spooky abandoned skyscraper hotel--here, the film really shines, and for a fleeting moment, feels like a George Romero zombie epic.
All in all, "Through the Fire" is a strange mix of genres and plot devices that technically shouldn't work, but, in the end, there is something oddly charming about it. For fans of B-horror movies from this era, it will more than likely prove an entertaining viewing experience. It also offers a time-capsule view of mid-'80s greater Dallas, which, as the film largely takes place at night, makes for an effective backdrop for all the shenanigans to unfold. Hold out for the explosive "Rambo-meets-Dawn of the Dead" finale. 7/10.