Hunter’s Blood – 1986, US, 100m. Director: Robert Hughes.
The Seduction – 1982, US, 104m. Director: David Schmoeller.
Tenebre – 1982, Italy, 101m. Director: Dario Argento.
HUNTER’S BLOOD (1986) Yet another city-folk-versus-redneck shocker—a subgenre practically unto its own—made in the wake of John Boorman’s Deliverance (1972). What separates Hunter’s Blood from the rest of the pack is the fact it’s actually quite good. Upper-class friends on a hunting expedition in backwoods Arkansas run into a family of demented poachers who’ve been illegally selling venison to a meatpacking company. The toothless natives don’t take kindly to outsiders messing around their business and pull out their shotguns and buck knives to secure the continuation of the family business. Macho Clu Gulager, pack leader of the civilized group, threatens the philistine woodsmen with violence and escalates the already turbulent waters by declaring all-out war. The bloodshed runs thick and fast, with one poor victim getting skinned and strung up a tree naked. Another is found decapitated in the swamps. The bumpkins’ territory is eventually overcome when mild-mannered physician Sam Bottoms turns “savage” by killing several forest people with his bare hands. Gory, funny, and intense. B
THE SEDUCTION (1982) The producer of Halloween, Irwin Yablans, is at it again with this formulaic stalk-and-slash rip off of The Fan. Morgan Fairchild stars as a glamorous Los Angeles television reporter who becomes the obsession of hunky psycho Andrew Stevens—who just happens to live in a geographically convenient hilltop house where he can snap pictures of Fairchild taking late night nude swims with a telephoto lens. Stevens downgrades from suave voyeur to garden variety peeping Tom after breaking into Fairchild’s home and watching her bathe from a closet—queue the obligatory masturbation scene. Fairchild’s boyfriend (Michael Sarrazin) seeks advice from a cop friend—just like Gregory Peck in Cape Fear—but fails to deliver any justice when the knife starts tearing into flesh. Fairchild is naturally likable in a thankless role that doesn’t give her much material to work with other than being naked or crying; the same can be said for Stevens, who’s creepy but left adrift in a screenplay that has him endlessly staring through a camera lens. Might have worked better as a TV movie. C
TENEBRE (1982) (AKA: Tenebrae) After the supernatural twosome of Suspiria and Inferno, Italian auteur Dario Argento returned to his giallo roots with this slasher extravaganza. American novelist Anthony Franciosa is subjected to psychological torture when a killer uses Franciosa’s newest book as inspiration for a series of murders. The gloved maniac not only leaves notes for Franciosa but takes aftermath photos of his gory crime scenes. The characters are the usual high-strung individuals portrayed by anxiety-ridden actors found in the majority of Italian horror movies of the time—but if there’s any reason Tenebre works, it’s because of Argento’s flamboyant style. As with Deep Red and Suspiria, it’s the murder sequences that are the real stars of the film, the best being a prolonged tracking shot of a young girl pursued by a guard dog before accidentally fleeing into the killer’s house, a particularly brilliant use of audience manipulation and suspense. The rest of the movie is standard Italian psychodrama fair highlighted by Argento’s use of color, music, and camera angles. In other words, a flashy but empty splatter vehicle. Great soundtrack, though. B–
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