Prey

Instantly watchable and delightfully cheap British sci-fi finds a male alien missionary on Earth being taken in as a house-guest by an unsuspecting separatist lesbian couple. The true fanged creature is concealed beneath a stolen body, but occasionally emerges during conflicts and feeding frenzies(and looks a bit like the titular terrors of THE BAT PEOPLE). The decidedly non-vegetarian visitor becomes caught in the middle of the womyns' peculiar psychodramas and recurring hostilities, and at one point is cross-dressed by them and finds new pleasures in the consumption of champagne....allthewhile drooling over a pet bird they have kept in a hanging cage.

This film, for all its misgivings, remains one of the more "out there" entries in the sci-fi/horror genre...a bad film, to be sure, but one recommendable for its sheer uncommonness. At least they were clearly trying for something altogether different...and they sure did succeed in that task.

5.5 out of 10 -- for decent performances and overall...erm...queerness.

I laughed a lot near the end of this movie. I thought the character of Jo just got funnier and funnier the more jealous she became.

This movie has some really great moments. In particular, the drowning scene, the hunting scene, the fighting scene where Jessica gets knocked out, the drag costume, etc etc! All are pretty original and pretty hilarious when you think about it.

Why they needed the drowning scene to be in slow motion, I'll never know. And the idea of dressing an alien man up in drag, getting him drunk and playing hide and seek with him cracks me up.

Jo was such a drama queen, like when the chickens got killed, when she missed the shot at the fox, when she is yelling at Jessica or running out of the house, she is always freaking out so majorly, it's great! Such an unassuming body/face, and such a huge character.

I liked this movie a lot, it's worth checking out.

A quick peek at the IMDb trivia section teaches us that "Prey" was shot in only ten days and that most of the script actually had to be improvised during shooting. These usually aren't very good signs, especially not when the director already holds the reputation of delivering movies with a low level of quality. Norman J. Warren's other films (like "Inseminoid" and "Satan's Slave") are fun but extremely unoriginal, mainly revolving on graphic bloodshed and copious amounts gratuitous sleaze. "Prey" is exactly like that, but now he totally didn't even bother to come up with a script. The result is a bizarre and often laughable film that makes no sense whatsoever, but the whole ineptness is irresistibly charming nevertheless. The story goes like this: An alien, who goes by the name of Keator, arrives in rural England with a mission to research possible new food sources to save his whole species, but the poor sucker never makes it further than the isolated mansion of two crazed lesbians. He ends up living with them; they dress him up in women's clothing like he's their third lesbian toy-girl and together they hunt down a fox. When the poor animal is eventually dead, they celebrate it with a giant party, which is just a little over-the-top if you ask me. In the meantime, Keator – whose human name is Anders Anderson (!) – develops a more or less intimate relationship with the youngest lesbian and she slowly falls for him. For you see, she's not a real lesbian but just an insecure girl and the other is a scary dominatrix that literally forces the young girl to be her lover. It's a mad world, indeed. The whole middle-section of "Prey" is rather tedious and uneventful, and only hilariously cheesy & inept dialogs keep it tolerable to sit through. Then the climax is extremely gross and bloody with a sudden massacre. Surely the sick puppies and avid admirers of 70's exploitation will appreciate the graphic bloodshed of the finale, but it comes ridiculously abrupt, like Warren suddenly got tired of his film and wanted to end it, and it totally misfits the rest of the film's tone. "Prey" is a pretty bad but curiously intriguing 70's trash-film, inclusively intended for fans of this type of cinema.

A shape-shifting space alien takes the form of a handsome young man on Earth and, after violently doing what he was sent for (which we learn at the end), he finds two pretty lesbians holed-up in a rural country estate... just so he can study their daily/nightly routine... Which means that men are all the same no matter what planet they derive...

For a robotic-like Barry Stokes it's a complicated (and often risky) lesson of love and jealousy in what's an offbeat triangle within a low-budget science-fiction horror, with plenty of intended downtime...

Giving the feel that cult director Norman J. Warren's PREY is actually more of a deliberately slow-paced arthouse thriller, and, filmed in England with British actors, the acting's quite good when it really shouldn't be...

Featuring the more feminine and once straight Glory Annen (with an unseen backstory involving an ex-husband), who's given either loving/controlling kisses or dirty/frustrated looks by her shorter-haired yet equally attractive Sally Faulkner, the most fun is how the bickering couple tries figuring out this strange male visitor, who winds up like a benign, manipulated little brother of sorts...

Meanwhile the taboo exploitation gets sporadically intruded upon by what hardcore horror fans want much more of, like gruesome body count deaths by the alien, particularly while sporting full fangs, an interstellar wolfman, who, despite having plenty to watch (as a voyeur along with the intended male audience) has very little to do.

You know the big house in the Omen (1976), the secluded stately pile in the English countryside where Ambassador Thorn and his wife intended to raise young Damien before they found out the hard way that he was the Anti-Christ? Well, that big old house was on the grounds of the now-defunct Shepperton Studios, and when cult director Norman J. Warren (fresh from a surprise hit with the slow- burning shocker Satan's Slave) found out it was free for ten days in 1977, he gathered a tiny group of actors (who wore their own clothes on camera) and technicians, and set about making a feature film in little over a week with a largely improvised piecemeal script. Actually, the story behind the making of Prey is a little more complicated than that, but this potted version of events simply underlines the freewheeling, anything-goes state of British cinema in the seventies, when apparently anyone with a few quid to spare and nerves of steel could shoot a film on loose change and have it playing in the Odeons and ABCs alongside the latest blockbusters from America in a matter of weeks. The fact that a turf accountant is mentioned in the credits for Prey tells you all you need to know, really.

There's not much of a plot here - a half-man, half-canine alien called Kator / Anders lands in the British countryside on a fact- finding mission and is adopted by a lesbian couple - one slightly butch and prone to possessive hysterics, the other more feminine and submissive. Things very quickly go awry as it becomes clear that Anders / Kator isn't all he seems, chickens are killed, policeman investigating the gruesome disappearance of a motorist are butchered, a fox is found half-eaten, and it's only a matter of time before the awful truth comes out. You've probably guessed the twist already, which is understandable because the title kind of gives it away, but not only are the man-dog-alien thing's alien brethren going to kill us all, but eat us as well. Yikes!

Norman J. Warren has been referred to in some quarters as the nearest British cinema's ever come to its very own Fred Olen Ray, but that pat description manages to belittle both parties. Warren was a knowledgeable craftsman and canny director, capable of performing minor miracles on the tightest of budgets, and stands nicely alongside his closest contemporary Pete Walker as one of the true 'wide boys' of seventies exploitation. If Walker offered the public unsentimental tales, however, Warren could be downright misanthropic, presenting a very dim view of humanity with his endlessly shrill and argumentative characters, skew-whiff pocket universes where an attempted rape, a bloody murder or a Suspiria- referencing set-piece lurked around every corner, and happy endings were for wimps and ten-year-old girls. He may have looked like a personable supply teacher, but there's a solid core of pitch-black nastiness at the heart of Warren's best films, and Prey is no exception. Relationships are open wounds, conversations are punctuated by recriminations and hysterics, blood (and vomit) pours off the screen and nobody emerges with any real credit. Throw in some hilariously awkward transvestism, skid row special effects, a commendably gloomy atmosphere of infinite foreboding and you've got a unique, if undeniably flawed little oddity that should please anyone with a taste for the forgotten avenues of schlock horror.

A note on the performances, in particular Barry Stokes's turn as the androgynous, almost catatonic alien. Having previously hammed it up in no-budget sex comedies (something he'd do again in the Warren- directed 1979 soft-core science fiction spoof Spaced Out), Stokes proves here that he's just as comfortable with the opposite side of the exploitation coin, and he's hauntingly effective in his role. Sally Faulkner is memorable, if occasionally a touch overpowering, as the dominant half of the partnership, and the late Glory Annen (who would be reunited with Stokes in Spaced Out two years later) should, by rights, have become a legitimate film star - she certainly had the charisma, the acting chops and the looks for it, but it seems she never got the right breaks. Ivor Slaney provides the pulsating electronic score which is appropriately other-worldly and disconcerting, particularly during the genuinely nauseating scene where the three leads thrash around in a heavily polluted river in glorious slow motion - to be honest, in spite of the plentiful blood and viscera on show in certain other scenes, that's the part of Prey most likely to turn the average viewer's stomach.