Matt’s Horror Addiction

Bride of Re-Animator – 1990, US, 96m. Director: Brian Yuzna.

He Knows You’re Alone – 1980, US, 93m. Director: Armand Mastroianni.

The Night of the Werewolf – 1981, Spain, 92m. Director: Paul Naschy.

BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR (1990) Demented Dr. Herbert West is up to his old tricks again in this lively but unnecessary sequel. Continuing his experiments in the creation of life, Dr. West (Jeffrey Combs) discovers that his “re-agent” serum works best in reanimating individual body parts, which gives him the idea of becoming a modern Dr. Frankenstein by building a female mate for his partner in crime (Bruce Abbott) by using the heart of Abbott’s deceased fiancée (played by Barbara Campton in the first film). Meanwhile, a nosy colleague over at West’s old stomping ground of Miskatonic University uses the serum to reanimate the rotting head of Dr. Hill (David Gale) to uncover the truth behind the events of Re-Animator. The special makeup effects supplied by Screaming Mad George and K.N.B. EFX are inventive and genuinely disgusting, but they don’t advance the plot like they did in the Stuart Gordon original, instead they serve to distract from the lack of story in the screenplay. The bride of the title doesn’t even appear until the last 20 minutes of the movie, but thanks to Kathleen Kinmont’s performance, it’s worth the wait—as is the appropriately gore-drenched climax. A worthy if underwhelming follow-up. C+

HE KNOWS YOU’RE ALONE (1980) A frightened woman watching a horror movie about a killer is murdered in the theater by someone with a large knife—he stabs her by pushing the blade through the back of her seat. This effective opening is one of the highlights of an otherwise routine slasher film about a maniac targeting brides-to-be. The killer (Tom Rolfing) escapes the theater and moves on to terrorizing a college student (Caitlin O’Heaney) who’s about to take her vows. The screenplay uses shadows and suggestion instead of graphic violence (a decapitation notwithstanding) to arouse suspense—a trick used more successfully in Halloween, which this film imitates in many ways. But that shouldn’t prevent one from enjoying He Knows You’re Alone, which is slickly directed and features more characterization than your normal body count production. B–

THE NIGHT OF THE WEREWOLF (1981) (AKA: The Craving) This ninth entry in the Paul Naschy/Waldemar Daninsky werewolf saga from Spain offers fans something different in that Naschy himself wrote and directed Night of the Werewolf. Daninsky is a sixteenth century wolfman who’s brought back from the dead in modern times to once again serve his evil mistress, the infamous Elisabeth Bathory (Julia Saly). She’s also resurrected, and forms a small army of vampire servants to bring her fresh blood to bathe in. After many nights of feeding on peasants and grave robbers, Daninsky falls in love with a young traveler (Azucena Hernández) and, in a change of heart, turns against Bathory and her vampiric ways. A watchable concoction of gothic horror atmospherics and eighties splatter makeup that doesn’t always makes sense, but is nicely directed by Naschy and effectively photographed—the final showdown between Daninsky and Bathory is particularly exciting and well staged. B–

Deathmaster – 1972, US, 84m. Director: Ray Danton.

The House on Skull Mountain – 1974, US, 89m. Director: Ron Honthaner.

Winterbeast – 1992, US, 78m. Director: Christopher Thies.

DEATHMASTER (1972) Robert Quarry, who sank his fangs into audiences as Count Yorga, Vampire, once again returns to the role of bloodsucker in this deathly dull retread. Quarry is vampiric guru Khorda who, through spouting nonsensical free-thinking mumbo jumbo, brainwashes a group of empty-headed hippies into becoming his vamp followers. Quarry is good in the role, even though he’s given very little to do other than flash his fangs and make goo-goo eyes at the women, resulting in a movie that feels little more than a second-rate Count Yorga for the Manson generation. As it is, Deathmaster has no bite. C–

THE HOUSE ON SKULL MOUNTAIN (1974) Voodoo and mysticism are at the center of this And Then There Were None-inspired body count thriller shot in Atlanta. Relatives gathering at a hilltop mansion for the reading of a will are done in by black magic conjured by the place’s butler (Jean Durand), the first to go being The Jeffersons‘s Mike Evans, who plunges to his death in an elevator shaft. The next victim is chomped by a rattlesnake while snooping in a hidden bedroom laced with bones and animal parts. Little House on the Prairie‘s Victor French plays the wise anthropology professor who dabbles in the occult and tries to figure out the plot—with predictably bad results. Technically well done, but the movie is too deliberately paced and often feels like one of the weaker subplots from the Dark Shadows television series. C

WINTERBEAST (1992) A mountain range becomes host to a Native American curse, which terrorizes the residents in the form of demonic monsters. Tourist disappearances are investigated by a forest ranger (Tom R. Morgan) and his deputies but their characters don’t have much to do other than spout needless exposition and walk around the woods in a daze. Morgan tries to shut down a popular lodge, but in the tradition of Jaws is thwarted by the disgruntled owner. The demons are a variety of weird creations with no real comprehensible reason for why they exist other than to present a showcase for some truly bargain-basement stop-motion special effects. The rest of the film’s makeup is just as abysmal, as are the acting, editing, continuity, and basically everything that went into this incessantly bizarre production. But the most surprising aspect of Winterbeast is that it never fails to be entertaining. Even when it’s not working (which is quite often) the movie manages to keep the viewer interested. That’s either a testament to the filmmakers or just pure luck. The film was apparently shot on and off over the course of nearly a decade, which would explain the constant changes in hair styles, seasons, and film stock. The original video release’s tagline (“The Evil Dead meets Northern Exposure!”) is both hilarious and accurate. B–

Dark Places – 1974, UK, 91m. Director: Don Sharp.

The Living Dead Girl – 1982, France, 90m. Director: Jean Rollin.

Phase IV – 1974, US, 84m. Director: Saul Bass.

DARK PLACES (1974) Dr. Edward Foster (Robert Hardy) inherits dusty old Marr’s Grove (along with a stash of hidden cash) from his deceased patient, unaware of the place’s nefarious history. Foster’s search for the money is bamboozled by a local man (Christopher Lee) and his sister (Joan Collins) who’ve been after the lost loot for years. In between searching for treasure and bedding Collins, Foster is consumed by the place’s dark past and slowly transforms into the mansion’s original owner, Andrew Marr, and sees in visions Marr murdering his children after discovering they had dispatched their lustful nanny. Foster goes on a killing spree before the police burst in and save the day. Good acting from a robust cast, but the film is often too sluggishly paced to be exciting. C+

THE LIVING DEAD GIRL (1982) Leaking drums of toxic waste secreted in a crypt reanimate the body of a young woman (Françoise Blanchard). After she dispatches some grave robbers, Blanchard goes back to the family chateau, where she kills a couple having sex by stabbing them in the neck with her Nosferatu-like fingernails and feasting on their blood. Blanchard’s childhood friend (Marina Pierro) finds out about the slaughter but gives the living dead girl shelter and protection—she even feeds Blanchard her blood and aids in the massacre of others. Whether Blanchard is your garden variety vampire, zombie, or something in between is never explained in the flimsy screenplay, which spends a good amount of time finding ways to keep Blanchard either naked, obtusely staring off into space, or both. Blanchard is ultimately overcome by bloodlust and rips Pierro to pieces in the gory climax. Well-made but not entirely interesting French splatter film. C

PHASE IV (1974) Some sort of event in space causes Earth’s ants to become super-intelligent. Two scientists (Nigel Davenport and Michael Murphy) are sent to Arizona to study a particularly aggressive species that have crossbred and forced a small desert community to flee. The ants mobilize and take out most of the land’s livestock before they figure out how to immunize themselves against the scientists’ chemicals and declare all-out war. Cinematically, this film seems to have been inspired more by the zen calmness of 2001: A Space Odyssey than the H.G. Wells short story “Empire of the Ants,” which was later officially adapted by Bert I. Gordon. At least Gordon’s version had a sense of enjoyment, unlike the bulk of this “serious” bit of intellectual claptrap, the ending of which will most likely leave viewers scratching their heads. The sole directing credit of Oscar-winning graphic title designer Saul Bass. C–

Beyond Evil – 1980, US, 93m. Director: Herb Freed.

Evil Dead Trap – 1988, Japan, 102m. Director: Toshiharu Ikeda.

Wolfman – 1979, US, 101m. Director: Worth Keeter.

BEYOND EVIL (1980) A couple moves into a large house haunted by the malevolent spirit of a Devil worshipper who’s still scorned by her untimely death at the hands of her philandering husband. The ghost, Alma (who looks exactly like Angelique from the TV show, Dark Shadows), slowly possesses the wife, Barbara (Lynda Day George), by turning her into an emotional train wreck and confusing her husband, Larry (John Saxon)—as if the ghostly brand on Barbara’s body wasn’t a clear indication of demonic activity. A sleazy doctor tries to pull the wool over Barbara’s eyes but ends up dying a fiery death at the hands of Alma/Barbara. Larry throws his old school sensibilities out the window and brings in a faith healer to put a stop to Alma/Barbara’s murderous mayhem. The special effects are in bargain basement territory, which isn’t all that surprising considering Beyond Evil has an inherently low-rent feel from the very first scene. Better than the similar Mausoleum (1983), but still not very good. C

EVIL DEAD TRAP (1988) A Japanese television team investigating an alleged snuff video depicting a woman’s murder gets roped into the bloody games of a demented madman. The TV crew is lured to an abandoned military facility where they’re tormented by a hooded killer and his expertise of trapping people in elaborate torture devices—one victim is skewered with several metal spears after stumbling upon the decaying body of the woman from the snuff movie. After most of the cast is dispatched (with a couple of rapes thrown in for good measure), it’s revealed that the hooded figure is just a puppet orchestrated by the man’s Cronenbergesque, telekinetic fetal twin that rips out of the man’s body at the end—just like Samantha Eggar in The Brood. Don’t worry, I didn’t get it either. Evil Dead Trap is an inventive and gruesome tribute (in tone and style) to the films of Dario Argento and recommended for viewing—at least up until the ludicrous final 10 minutes. B–

WOLFMAN (1979) There’s plenty of Southern color to Wolfman, a tale of a turn-of-the-century family plagued by a history of lycanthropy. Unfortunately, this melodramatic feature from prolific North Carolina producer Earl Owensby comes off as more of a watered down episode of Dark Shadows than a full-fledged werewolf film—the same problem that made Owensby’s A Day of Judgement (1981) such a missed opportunity. Owensby not only financed Wolfman but stars as Colin Glasgow, inheritor of the Glasgow family estate, and his late father’s curse of werewolfism. At first Colin doesn’t believe in the stories, but come the next full moon—and an hour into the film!—Colin sprouts fur, fangs, and goes on a killing spree. Some will appreciate Wolfman‘s use of old fashioned optical effects during the transformation scenes, reminiscent of Lon Chaney Jr. in The Wolf Man. Modern audiences raised on An American Werewolf in London and The Howling are more likely to yawn from the slow pacing and lack of general excitement. D+

The Bride – 1985, UK, 118m. Director: Franc Roddam.

Gore-Met, Zombie Chef from Hell – 1986, US, 67m. Director: Don Swan.

Rush Week – 1989, US, 96m. Director: Bob Bralver.

THE BRIDE (1985) Before he created the television juggernaut MasterChef, Franc Roddam directed this flashy reimagining of Bride of Frankenstein starring eighties icons Sting and Jennifer (Flashdance) Beals. In order to appease his domesticated creation (Clancy Brown), Baron Frankenstein (Sting) makes a mate in the form of beautiful Eva (Beals), who the Baron ends up grooming into his world of aristocratic wealth after Brown is declared destroyed in a freak lab explosion. Still very much alive, Brown meets a promiscuous little person (David Rappaport) and the two travel the country, where they end up joining a circus in Budapest. It’s fun to see the monsters perceived as more intellectual beings but The Bride‘s screenplay doesn’t give them much to do other than wallow in the story’s heavy use of melodrama—a subplot involving the romancing of the bride by a dashing soldier (Cary Elwes) feels like needless filler. This is still nonetheless a well-acted and polished film—and better than the bloated Kenneth Branagh-helmed Frankenstein starring De Niro. Screenwriter Lloyd Fonvielle would dabble in the monsterverse again with the 1999 remake of The Mummy. Look for Quintin Crisp and Timothy Spall in small roles. C+

GORE-MET, ZOMBIE CHEF FROM HELL (1986) There’s low rent, and then there’s low rent. And then there’s Gore-Met, Zombie Chef from Hell, a fifth-rate Blood Feast (1963) wannabe made by people completely devoid of talent and creativity. In the thirteenth century, a man named Goza (Theo Depuay) is cursed by his fellow occult members to live for all eternity as a cannibal. Flash forward to modern day Charlotte, North Carolina, where Goza is the owner of a popular barbecue joint that uses human meat as its main ingredient. A health inspector threatens the place with closure but Goza turns him into the soup of the day. A customer proposes marriage to his girlfriend only to later discover the engagement ring in his hamburger after she disappears. The formless story is sporadically narrated by Goza, who spouts uninteresting dialogue directly to the camera. The acting is subpar, the jokes fall flat, and the splatter consists of mundane aftermath shots of plastic body parts basted with fake blood. Shockingly, Gore-Met predates the similar Blood Diner, which compared to this looks like a high-class production. F

RUSH WEEK (1989) Coed disappearances at Tambers University makes a hot story for aspiring journalist Pamela Ludwig, whose assigned topic of fraternity life during college rush week doesn’t stimulate her creative juices. All that changes when someone in a black robe and wielding a ceremonial axe begins chopping up the student body. Suspects come in the form of brooding frat hunk Dean Hamilton, who’s got eyes for Ludwig, and university dean Roy Thinnes, whose pretty daughter was mysteriously murdered the year before. Gorehounds will be turned off by the substantial lack of blood, but others will rejoice over the amount of naked bodies (male and female) bouncing into frame. Most of the been-there/done-that plot stems from the majority of slasher’s past, but Rush Week is well acted by a likable cast and features enough suspense and humor to make the passing grade. B–

Witchboard – 1986, US, 98m. Director: Kevin S. Tenney.

Witchboard 2 – 1993, US, 97m. Director: Kevin S. Tenney.

Witchboard: The Possession – 1995, Canada, 92m. Director: Peter Svatek.

WITCHBOARD (1986) A well made story of ghostly possession, the mishandling of a spirit board, and the consequences surrounding those involved in its deadly game. Linda (Tawny Kitaen) plays with a Ouija board at a party and believes she’s made contact with a 10-year-old boy who drowned thirty years ago. Unbeknownst to her, Linda’s actually contacted and being manipulated by the malevolent spirit of a serial killer who died in her house in 1930. Linda’s ex (Stephen Nichols) enlists the help of a psychic (Kathleen Wilhoite), but as these things go she’s dispatched before warning Linda of impending doom. Linda ultimately becomes a host for the murderer to move into and continue his reign of slaughter. A reliance on mystery over an overuse of special effects gives Witchboard an edge in the writing department by offering better written characters than normally found in these types of movies—Wilhoite’s kooky medium is especially endearing. The film goes a little over the top during the climax, but Witchboard is a good little movie worthy of its cult status. Director Kevin Tenney would follow up this one with another classic of its era: 1988’s Night of the Demons. B

WITCHBOARD 2 (1993) Struggling artist Paige (the underused Ami Dolenz) rents a trendy downtown loft—a popular plot point in so many horror titles of the 1990s—where she finds a Ouija board and begins communicating with the previous tenant, who died under mysterious circumstances. Similar to Tawny Kitaen in the first Witchboard, Paige becomes obsessed with the mystery, while at the same time a ghostly force wreaks havoc around her—and sends people to an early grave. The twist this time around is a revenge scheme conducted by the angry spirit in order to seek justice for a murder committed two years earlier. There’s more visual effects and stunt work, and less characterization and suspense—two components that made the original work—in Witchboard 2, but in this instance it’s not a bad thing. Dolenz is likable, and the movie keeps its engines running at a good pace until the ending, which wisely avoids another possession climax as with Part 1. In all, a serviceable sequel that was successful enough on the video market to warrant Witchboard: The Possession in 1995. B–

WITCHBOARD: THE POSSESSION (1995) (AKA: Witchboard III) Unemployed stockbroker Brian (David Nerman) is introduced to a new form of insider trading through the use of a spirit board that promises riches beyond his wildest dreams—but at a price. Brian becomes host to a demonic entity that turns the man into a suave witchcraft-practicing sex machine. In a play on Rosemary’s Baby, the demon tries to bring its spawn into the real world by impregnating Brian’s Mia Farrow-ish wife (Locky Lambert), and killing anyone who gets in the way of its plan—bye-bye, nosy best friend! Lambert tricks the demon by feeding it shrimp, which human Brian is allergic to—I guess even demons aren’t immune to shellfish allergies—and seeks help from a woman whose husband was the victim of a similar possession, and Brian’s previous landlord. The horned (and horny) beastie eventually emerges in full form and tries to have sex with Lambert before Brian shoots it in the chest with an amulet-empowered crossbow and sending the demon back to Hell in the cheesy, digital FX-heavy climax. Promises of a fourth entry in the oddly long-running Witchboard series were, luckily, never fulfilled. C

American Gothic – 1987, Canada, 90m. Director: John Hough.

Black Roses – 1988, Canada, 89m. Director: John Fasano.

The Prey – 1983, US, 80m/97m (international version). Director: Edwin Brown.

AMERICAN GOTHIC (1987) Yuppies crash their seaplane onto a remote island owned by fundamentalists Ma (Yvonne De Carlo) and Pa (Rod Steiger), who live in a pre-World War II time warp. Ma and Pa don’t believe in modern conveniences (such as running water or electricity), and treat their middle-aged offspring like children—their eldest, Fanny (Janet Wright), a demented woman with a Little Orphan Annie perm, believes she’s about to turn twelve. Fanny also happens to be a psycho and enjoys killing off the newcomers with the help of her equally disturbed brother (Michael J. Pollard). When Fanny doesn’t finish the job, Ma takes her extra-long knitting needles to send one of the wicked outsiders to Hell. The tables are turned when sole survivor Cynthia (Sarah Torgov) is revealed to be just as crazy as the rest of the lot, and does some housecleaning by laying waste to the family homestead. American Gothic won’t win any awards for originality, but it’s a colorful little film with rich characters and an atmospheric backwoods setting. B

BLACK ROSES (1988) The uptight parents of rock ‘n’ roll-loving teens are put on high alert when heavy metal hair band Black Roses breezes into town. Conservatives protest the band in fear of their children being turned into demoralized fiends, or worse—Democrats! And wouldn’t you know it? The members of Black Roses are actually demons with a mission to transform the young and impressionable into anarchists, degenerates, and murderers. A father (Vincent Pastore) is eaten by a monstrous stereo speaker (death by metal?) after berating his rocker son for getting his ear pierced. A nagging mom is run over with a car driven by her teen son, right before another (Frank Dietz) executes his father with a gun, post-coitus with a demon sporting teased hair and Penthouse-sized breasts. A student tries to fellate her teacher and turns into a deformed monster with sharp teeth. Egghead John Martin tries to stop the massacre by setting the band’s stage on fire, resulting in Black Roses shedding their human forms and showing the audience their true, hideous skin—rubbery makeup effects abound. Good wins in the end, but not before our heroes turn on the boob tube to see everyone’s favorite metal band from Hell back on tour and selling out Madison Square Garden. An amusing satire for the MTV generation. C+

THE PREY (1983) Filmed in 1979, this woodsy-terrain slasher originally predated similarly themed Don’t Go in the Woods (1981), The Forest (1982), and The Final Terror (1983), but because of distribution problems The Prey film wasn’t released until years later. The movie might have been conceived first, but in terms of quality The Prey doesn’t have much to offer in its story of backpackers being stalked by a disfigured woodsman. Dull actors portray even duller characters who occupy the dull narrative—although there are a few gory moments to cherish. A man gets his head sliced off with a double-edged axe in the opening, a camper gets his throat ripped open by the killer’s gnarled fingers, and another has his head twisted 180 degrees. An alternate cut of the movie (which runs nearly 20 minutes longer) includes additional footage depicting the maniac’s origins, and a couple of softcore sex scenes featuring porn actor Eric Edwards that were filmed without director Edwin Brown’s consent. The Prey isn’t the worst axe-wielding slasher out there, but it’s far from the best. C