Have you ever wondered what The Texas Chain Saw Massacre would have looked like if it had been directed by David Lynch. Yeah? Me too. Well, I think it would’ve looked something like Home Sick, a warped little flick from writer/producer E. L. Katz and director Adam Wingard.
Katz has given us an unusual, though compelling, story. A seriously disturbed man carrying a suitcase full of razor blades crashes a party in small-town Alabama. He asks the guests for the name of someone they hate. For each name he receives, he slashes his forearm with a razor blade. Then, singing a jaunty song, he leaves. Soon, the people whose names he collected are murdered in extremely gruesome ways. It’s up to the party guests to figure it all out and stop the killer, if possible.
This is a seriously weird film, and I mean that as high praise. Filmed in 16mm, Home Sick feels like a total throwback to the grindhouse era. While Robert Rodriguez used all kinds of CGI in his recent ‘70s homage, Planet Terror, Wingard has gone completely old school using all practical effects, courtesy of Jonathan Thornton—and they look amazing. In the digital age, it’s so nice to see someone taking the time and effort to do it this way. And let me tell you, there are a lot of great effects here. This is one of the goriest flicks I’ve seen in a while. If you like to see splatter, this is the movie for you. But that’s not all this film is. There are a few striking visuals that are, dare I say, unexpectedly beautiful.
For such a low-budget affair, Home Sick has a surprising number of horror veterans in its cast. Bill Moseley’s one scene as the creepy Mr. Suitcase effectively sets the tone for all that follows. As rowdy party girl Candice, Tiffany Shepis once again does wonderful work. I’m constantly amazed at her ability to take a one-note character and invest it with emotion and nuance. Usually the best thing about the pictures she appears in, here Shepis once again proves she is more than just eye candy. Also appearing is Rob Zombie fave Tom Towles. Towles swings for the fences as Uncle Johnny, a paranoid chili chef/survivalist who believes guns are a man’s best friend. The cast is rounded out by unknowns, each of whose performance feels like it comes from a wholly different film. Normally, this would be a very bad thing. But somehow, it just adds to this movie’s dreamy, surrealistic atmosphere.
With Home Sick, Wingard and Katz have given us what feels like a very personal labor of love. Though it was filmed in 2003, this flick didn’t make it to DVD until last year and the filmmakers have since moved on to bigger and better things. But thank god they were able to leave us this odd gem of a film. If you’re anxious to see something twisted and original—and who isn’t?—check out Home Sick. I bet you haven’t seen anything quite like it before. And in today’s horror market, how often can you say that?
~Theron Neel
As we all know, the 1960s and ‘70s were a time of massive political and social change. One of the filmmakers to most often comment and reflect upon this upheaval is a man not usually thought of as a socio-political filmmaker: George A. Romero. That’s right, the zombie guy.
Romero presents an accurate look at life in the Me Decade, when women were becoming frustrated with their role in the world and the occult was becoming the “in thing.” He displays sharp chops behind the camera, which is restless and always finds unusual angles. And while his creative editing keeps the film interesting visually, he’s delivered a flick that is more tedious, talky melodrama than gripping supernatural thriller. But, hey, dialogue is cheap for a filmmaker to shoot and Romero was definitely a low-budget auteur at this point in his career. The film explores the generation gap, the search for one’s identity, drugs, free love—all the hot-button issues of the day. But it’s done in such a tedious manner that it’s hard to sit through. Witchcraft doesn’t even really enter the picture until more than hour into the film. So don’t do what I did and think, “Ooh, Romero and ‘70s witchcraft!” That’s not at all what you’ll get. Sure, eventually there are candles and incantations, as well as a sudden act of violence that changes everything, but all they do is serve as a means to an inescapable, depressing end: In ‘70s society, no matter what she does to carve out an identity for herself, Joan is and always will be thought of as Jack’s wife.
When viewed today, I think Season of the Witch works best as a time capsule. And though I wasn’t enchanted by it, if Romero has worked his ideological magic on you in the past, or if you just want to enjoy the slang and tacky clothes and decor of the period, maybe you’ll fall under its spell. Stranger things have happened—the ‘70s themselves, for example.
Sure, there are plenty of horror rockers around these days to unsettle your parents: Marilyn Manson, GWAR, Lordi, Rob Zombie, the Jonas Brothers. But as scary as these guys are, they wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for the efforts of one particular ghoul—Alice Cooper, hallowed be his name.
Our next entry in 
Invasion! is a clever little film. I was surprised when I learned it was written for the screen—it feels very much like an alternative theater piece that’s been opened up for the screen. John Paisz has given us an affectionate send-up of those wonderfully terrible 1950’s atomic-age sci-fi/horror movies we used to watch on lazy Saturday afternoons. The movie’s era is hard to pin down. It feels like the ‘50s, but the décor is ‘60s kitsch and we hear ‘70s music played, all of which adds to the anachronistic atmosphere created by Paisz. The script is loaded with understated, witty wordplay: Exceptional Vista is located in the “Western Central Northeast.” It’s located near the villages of Bladder Town and Fetus. The “dead remains of a human corpse, deceased,” are found in the “hilly, lumpy bumpy part of town outside of town.” In my favorite quote, Dr. Lamonte opines on the possible killer, “A genetically engineered band of devil-worshipping serial killers or a sasquatch-type thing—I don’t like the sound of that.”
As we all know by now, any good ‘50s sci-fi parody includes a degree of campy sexuality, and Invasion! is no different. But as with its humor, the perverse edge is played subtly for the most part. Sexual identity is subverted through the character names: men are named Karel, Michel, Claire, Dana, Kim, Jan, Leslie, Gayle and Pat. The most masculine male name is Guy, belonging to Sandy’s brother, a man-child to whom Dr. Lamonte grows (ahem) confusingly close by the movie’s end. Dr. Lamonte is also quite fond of his customized blow-up doll (see photo).
I know I said you wouldn’t read about most mainstream horror releases here, but Jennifer’s Body isn’t most mainstream horror releases. I was curious to see how a teen horror movie directed by Karyn Kusama (
All Kusama and Cody had to do was give us the standard formula, but they’ve taken that formula and added a few new ingredients. Jennifer’s Body is, at turns, a “woman’s drama,” a paean to ‘70s and ‘80s horror flicks, a meditation on female sexuality, a feminist screed and a black comedy. Kusama’s camera moves as restlessly as a cobra and she takes advantage of most every trick in the book to good effect, ratcheting up the tension and then releasing it like a horror veteran. Cody’s dialogue has all the requisite pop culture references and stylized slang, but it’s never overly precious as it has been in the past. Her story follows the usual route, but takes enough clever detours to keep the trip from being boring.
Perhaps Kusama and Cody should team up and take on some other film styles. How about a prison flick or a war movie, ladies? Whatever these two do next, we should be happy they managed to give us Jennifer’s Body. It might not be exactly what the studio wanted, but it’s what we needed: an intelligent, well-made horror film that cunningly upends the usual genre tropes at every turn. Maybe it’ll start a trend—smart movies by smart people for smart people. Stranger things have happened.
This review marks my first participation in the Final Girl Film Club of the amazingly overachieving 
The film opens during a rainstorm (foreshadow much?), and golden-age film goddess Ida Lupino is in a tizzy. A cowboy-behatted William Shatner soon arrives to try to assuage her, but he’s unsuccessful. In this battle of overacting, Lupino easily defeats Shatner. The lesson here? Never mess with a pro. But they are both spanked handily by scene-stealing veteran character actor Woody Chambliss, who plays a senile handyman that resembles Karl Marx. See? How can this movie be truly bad? I haven’t even mentioned the guy with no eyes that melts in the rain.
Okay, let’s cut to the chase. Back in the goode olde Pilgrim days, Borgnine was a notorious Satanist who was burned at the stake. Shatner was a member of his notorious cult and was also notoriously burned at the stake. Borgnine has been reincarnated to reunite his notorious cult, one soul at a time. He has all these souls trapped in a round, horned container full of the devil’s rain, whatever the hell that is. The souls look like little screaming people running around in a storm. Will he find bodies for all these souls before he’s stopped by Tom Skerritt? Will his career survive his transformation into a goat-man? I’ll never tell.
And what of John Travolta’s role as Danny? Well, he has no lines and wears an appliance on his face that renders him almost totally unrecognizable. For this, I’m sure he’s now very thankful. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention the participation of Anton Szandor LaVey, the high priest of the notorious Church of Satan. He served as “technical director” and has a cameo as a masked guy with a beard, which the credits refer to as “high priest.” He was quite the jet-setter back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, but it was all pretty much downhill for him after The Devil’s Rain. Coincidence? You be the judge.
I think my favorite scene of the movie is when Eddie Albert and Tom Skerritt crash the notorious Satanist chapel and discover the horned container of the devil’s rain. Eddie Albert leans down in front of it and considers the little screaming people and wisely pronounces, “Souls,” as if he sees a raining ball of souls every other day. (And who knows? Maybe he did. There’s no telling what weird goods Mr. Haney used to hawk to his “special” customers in Hooterville.) Eddie Albert obviously emerged from Green Acres a wise, wise man. As wise as Arnold the pig? Well, let’s not get carried away here.
The people at production house Trash Film Orgy seem to know what they’re doing. Hell, the name of their company could serve as their mission statement. And TFO’s latest release, Monster From Bikini Beach, illustrates my point perfectly. Combining ‘50s monster movies, ‘60s bikini/beach movies, ‘70s sexploitation flicks and more, this movie is pretty much a trash film primer. In fact, the film’s tag line tells you all you need to know: “The blood is fake, but the boobs are real!”
Director/writer Darin Wood and Christy Savage, his producer and cinematographer, have given us an almost perfect example of the beloved Three B’s: Blood, Boobs and Beasts. It could even be said that this film is ambitious—and that’s pretty much the only problem I have with Monster From Bikini Beach. Don’t get me wrong. I love an ambitious movie, but Wood has taken a perfectly good beach party/monster flick and gummed it up with an inane film noir side story. Consequently, the film is three movies in one, but only two of them are executed well. As long as the film concentrates on the bikini go-go girls covered in day-glo body paint or the giant walking catfish creature that feeds upon them, it’s amazing. But as soon as Sammy Payday shows up with his muddled scheme to cash in and get out, accompanied by wooden, rambling voiceovers, the film stops dead. Also, a major part of the movie is spent setting up and building to the go-go dance contest. But when the contest finally occurs, we don’t really see it, which is a major let-down. Why would a bikini movie with a dance contest as a major plot point squander the chance to show groovy chicks dancing in the contest? Sure, there already is plenty of dancing in the film, but this time it would’ve actually contributed “dramatically” to the story.
But let’s focus on what Monster From Bikini Beach gets right. There are lots of cute go-go girls in bikinis, and a majority of them lose their tops at some point. The cheesy mutant catfish creature is awesomely rendered. The flick gets better every time the monster rambles across the screen, chasing and mutilating sexy girls. Speaking of mutilation, there are some admirable gore effects and buckets of splattered blood on display. One thing that caught my eye was the remarkable look of the film. Sure, this is a very low-budget production, but Christy Savage has taken the time to include some superbly composed shots. The film looks just extraordinary. It has a soft glow and nice use of color that completely took me by surprise.
Now, I’d be remiss if I didn’t single out a few of the performances. Stephanie Hyden may not make a convincing news reporter, but she’s an entertaining screen presence and, hey, she looks good in a shower. As her budding love interest, Galen Howard seems to be doing a fair impression of indie star Jeremy Davies…at least, his hands are. As Boom Boom, Laura Stahl is a bikini-clad sweetheart. All Boom Boom wants is to win the big dance contest and make her man proud, and Stahl crafts a fun, charming character here.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And rarely has a woman been more scorned than Kimmy Valencia, the protagonist in 
Watching The Hood Has Eyez is akin to taking a step back into the ‘70s. The flick just feels like an exploitation classic. Everything from the score to the shot choices and lighting screams grindhouse. Obsessive horror fans will have fun playing “spot the references.” The film’s title is an allusion to the work of horror director Wes Craven, the filmmaker responsible for 
Terrence Williams has taken a huge step forward with The Hood Has Eyez. His cinematography has really opened up. The movie looks great—it’s bright and the entire screen is full of detail. Williams definitely makes the most of his many outdoor locations. And while he has always worked well with his actors, this time he manages to get excellent performances from his whole cast, most of whom he’s used before.
Although all the cast is quite good, most of the players aren’t called upon to give overly expansive performances. A little humor here, a little anger there, mix in some fear, rinse, repeat. All are fine, but Cyd Schulte must go from mild-mannered schoolgirl to psycho killer and make it believable—and hold the audience’s sympathy. It’s quite a task for an actor. Luckily, she pulls it off easily. Schulte is quite entertaining as she takes her vengeance on those who wronged her.
I’m willing to bet most people had never heard the term “grindhouse” until not long ago, let alone seen a true grindhouse film. But thanks to the recent efforts of a pair of quite popular film directors, it’s now hard to go more than a couple of days without hearing some hipster drop the phrase in an attempt to be cool. With the rise of the DVD, it has become fairly easy to track down and view many exploitation movies of the grindhouse era, which lasted roughly from the late ‘60s to the late ‘70s. These films consisted of almost every genre you can think of: martial arts epics, softcore porn movies, blaxploitation films, splatter/slasher flicks, etc. If there’s any one movie that perfectly epitomizes all that is grindhouse, it just might be 
I could spell out the plot, but all you really need to know is there’s plenty of nudity, obviously fake blood, terrible acting and ‘70s clothes and hairstyles. Oh, there’s also a cage of naked women, human dart boards, cannibalism and a scene where a guy drills a hole in a woman’s skull and sucks out her blood and brains.
Bloodsucking Freaks (originally titled The Incredible Torture Show) is a mixture of 
You’ve no doubt heard that you can’t judge a book by its cover. If you don’t believe it, see actress/filmmaker Elske McCain. At first glance, Elske is the ultimate horror vixen—all lush body and sultry stare. But talk with her for a few minutes and you begin to see the truth: Elske is actually a geek princess, exceedingly articulate and knowledgeable about the horror films she loves. In other words, she’s a fanboy’s dream. I recently wrangled Elske into a conversation about filmmaking, scream queens and nature run amok.
You started as a dancer, right? Have you always had aspirations to be an actress, or did you just kinda stumble across this career direction?
Speaking of scream queens, do you have any personal faves? Are there any ladies out there you consider to be role models?
You have worked your way up in fright flicks. Lots of small roles to start, but that’s changing. You are now doing what a lot of women in horror are doing—taking control and creating their own projects. Do you have some insight on this?
How many of your heroes have you had the chance to work with so far? Any special memories?
Now that you’ve gotten a taste of working on your own projects, do you have anything else planned in the pipeline? 
Toxie returns!? You read it here first, people. Elske, I hear that you love the “nature run amok” horror genre. Me too! My favorite is 
