Fire and Ice (1983)

Sep 281983
 
2.5 reels

Evil ice mage, Lord Nekron (Sean Hannon) sends his Neanderthal minions to kidnap Princess Teegra (Cynthia Leake) of the Fire Keep.  Young warrior Larn (Randy Norton Voice: William Ostrander), whose village was destroyed by Nekron, and the enigmatic but powerful berserker Darkwolf (Steve Sandor), set out to rescue Teegra.

Fire and Ice is a handy film to have around, because I never have to define Sword and Sorcery.  Someone asks me what that terms means, I can just hand him the disk.  But being the iconic movie for a troubled genre is a mixed bag.  It means it has all the standards: fast paced action, muscled, sword-wielding heroes, a buxom babe in need of rescue, an effeminate, megalomaniac sorcerer, and plenty of monsters.  It also means that what very little plot exists is just a series of cliché’s cobbled together, there is no theme, and the budget is insufficient.

For anyone who missed the poster or cover art, Fire and Ice is an animated fantasy from producer-director Ralph Bakshi (Wizards, Lord of the Rings), inspired by the artwork of Frank Frazetta.  Bakshi was a proponent of rotoscoping, where live-action scenes are filmed, and then drawn over to create the animation.  In Fire and Ice, we can see his best use of the technique, but the result is still problematic.  Characters move in a very realistic fashion, creating a sense of excitement often missing from animation, but monsters, rocks, ice, and everything else on the screen has a quickie-cartoon appearance, giving the film an uneven look that often pulled me out of the adventure.

For a small, generally forgotten work, Fire and Ice had an interesting group responsible for its animation.  Frazetta’s influence is obvious.  He dominated fantasy illustration for a generation, with his overly-bulked barbarians, standing on piles of dead bodies with large-bottomed girls clinging on.  But the project is also filled with unknowns who would soon lose their anonymity in unexpected ways.  Uncredited animator Peter Chung would go on to create Aeon Flux, a cult favorite on MTV for years and now a live-action feature with Charlize Theron.  The two (yes, there were only two) background painters were college friends, James Gurney and Thomas Kinkade.  Gurney created the Dinotopia books as well as produced and wrote the TV series based on them.  Kinkade is now best known as the artist behind uncountable generic paintings of little cottages, churches, and lighthouses that filled the homes of undiscerning middle Americans.  I am more sympathetic to his work now that I am aware of his past, speculating that there could be a hulking warrior or heaving babe hiding in the perfectly sculpted bushes of those cottages.

While the axe-whacking and sword slicing is fun, the meager story and undeveloped characters make Fire and Ice an unengaging affair.  Larn is bland and has no noticeable personality.  Teegra’s personality is in her thinly-covered, bouncing breasts (no, this isn’t a sexist film; all characters shows off their skin, with loin cloth-garbed Larn displaying his thighs at every opportunity).  Darkwolf shows up, hits people with his axe, then leaves.  That’s not exactly a complete personality.  The climactic battle between Darkwolf and Nekron is empty as I have no idea who these people are.  In earlier drafts, Darkwolf and Nekron were related, but that never made it to the screen.

Perhaps if Bakshi’s resources had been more substantial, he’d have been able to create the fifteen or twenty minutes of needed character development and plot twists.  Without the bucks, he did what he could, focusing on the fundamentals of sword and sorcery.  It’s something, but not enough.

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Krull (1983)

May 301983
 
two reels

The wedding of Prince Colwyn (Ken Marshall) and Princess Lyssa (Lysette Anthony) is interrupted by slayers, the troops of The Beast, who kidnap Lyssa and take her to The Black Tower.  Colwyn journeys to rescue her, with the aid of a wise man (Freddie Jones), a clownish shape changer (David Battley), a bandit chief (Alun Armstrong), a cyclops (Bernard Bresslaw), and a child (Graham McGrath).

Krull is useful when examining the sub-genre of High Fantasy as it is the standard film.  Plot, characters, and theme (such as it is) never vary from the predictable “heroes journey.”  There are no surprises, no twists, and nothing which hasn’t been done many times before (but I can’t think of another single film which combines all the clichés).

The Beast is said to be a space alien and his troops fire lasers from their swords, which would be a switch from the average except it makes no difference.  It is only a change of wording.  Think of lasers as magical bolts and space as a generic evil land, and we’re back on track.

The story is episodic, following our hero and friends as they complete one task after another on the way to their goal.  Some die along the way, but only those I expected to die from the beginning (yes, the child survives—big surprise).

Ken Marshall is a bland hero and Lysette Anthony is nearly non-existent in her helpless damsel role.  She has an excuse as a foolish studio exec decided to dub her voice because she sounded too British.  You certainly wouldn’t want anyone sounding British in a High Fantasy movie.

Krull required numerous makeup and special effects and the team wasn’t up to the challenge.  A stop motion spider is entertaining, but almost every other effect fails.  Shimmering borders around actors are common and The Beast, seen only through blurs and distortion, will only draw giggles.  The interiors look like constructed sets (which they were), contrasting poorly with the more realistic exteriors.

The James Horner score is melodic, though too “bouncy.”  It sounds like much of 1980s film music.

Perhaps best remembered from the film is the mind controlled, switch-blade shuriken.  Like the light saber, it is a weapon that every little boy dreams of.  Unfortunately, after a great deal of build-up, it is rarely used.

A squeaky clean, adventure romp, Krull is a kids’ film and should satisfy anyone younger than ten and no one over thirteen.

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Cat People (1982)

Oct 061982
 
four reels

Raised in foster homes, Irena Gallier (Nastassia Kinski) journeys to New Orleans to meet her brother, Paul (Malcolm McDowell).  Paul is a shape changer, becoming a panther when sexually excited, and he wants Irena for himself.  The virginal Irena is unready for her brother’s advances, or her feelings for the local zoo curator, Oliver (John Heard).  And she’s really not ready for the truth behind her own superior senses and awakening sexuality.

In the distant past, an unknown race of humans sacrificed young girls to their gods, the leopards.  Over time, the souls of the victims joined with the great cats, creating a new race, the cat people.  They look human, but deep inside, they are predators, and when their human half delves into its glorious animal side for passion and sex, the cat comes out.

This is the stuff of myth, and the kind of story that film is perfect for.  Cat People shows that distant, legendary world, in impossible shades of orange, with unending dunes and a fantasy tree.  Then it switches to the mundane now.  However, by focusing on the strange parts of “reality” and altering colors, the common world merges with the mythic, and everything ends up a little magical.

Director Paul Schrader, who also massively re-wrote the script, tells intertwined tales.  Besides the dream-like past, he gives us Irena, walking the line between innocence and lust.  As she’s becoming aware of herself, of the desires and strengths that will overwhelm her fears, Oliver, a rather ordinary man, is searching for a woman to worship.  He has his perfect mate in Alice (Annette O’Toole), a colleague who shares his interests.  But he doesn’t want her.  He wants something intangible, something that will give his life meaning.  He doesn’t want to be the non-entity lover he so obviously is; he wants to be a priest.  It’s no surprise that he obsesses over Irena.  Irena also has a perfect mate in her brother-god.  But she’s too afraid of what’s inside her to even consider going to him.  Besides, why would a god want another god when she can have a worshipper?

Cat People should never be taken as an everyday story with some monsters, as it will unravel pretty quickly.  This is an abstract film about accepting yourself, and about desire and lust.  Some people still consider it shocking due to the large amount of nudity in the second half.  I find it difficult to fathom why half-panthers overwhelmed by their carnal natures should be dwelling on keeping their clothing primly buttoned.  Luckily, Schrader doesn’t understand it either, creating powerful and sensuous moments with the nude Irena walking through the trees.

Matching the powerful themes is the lush cinematography of John Bailey and the extravagant set designs of Ferdinando Scarfiotti.  Together, they create a spectacular neither-world which is sometimes almost New Orleans, but not quite.

The synthesizer score by Giorgio Moroder is a bit thick in some of the real world shots (driving down the road), but gives power to the otherworld scenes.  The drum-laden music that backs the ancient ritualistic sacrifices pops up again and again, and never by accident.

Conventional horror films would have it all end in fight to the death between the hero and monster, in which the castle would burn to the ground.  But thankfully, Schrader defies convention, giving us something new that fits his work.

I’m immune to most gore, happily snacking away at my popcorn during Day of the Dead, but Cat People has one scene that turned my stomach.  It involves poor Ed Begley Jr. and I suggest the most sensitive be prepared.  But as a whole, this isn’t a film that concentrates on blood or chills.  Guillermo del Toro (Blade II, Hellboy) has stated that in making horror, he is friends with the monsters and wants to bring out the beauty inherent in them.  That’s the case for Cat People.  The monsters aren’t frightening, as long as you’re not too close; they are fascinating and sexy.

Occasionally, Schrader gets so wrapped up in the tone, he forgets the pacing.  The middle is slow, with unnecessary moments, such as Irena buying her train ticket.  I know she’s leaving.  If I then see her on the train, I can work out that she bought a ticket.  Also, too much time is spent driving from one place to another and looking around the city.  It’s an interesting city, but I don’t need a tour.

Nastassia Kinski nails sensual and frightened, and Malcolm McDowell is larger-than-life in a larger-than-life role.  But John Heard displays little personality of any kind.  Sure, he’s the mere mortal surrounded by superhuman beings, but that doesn’t mean he has to be boring.

Cat People didn’t do well with critics.  Many insist on comparing it to the 1942 film of the same name and then are upset that it’s not the same film.  Note to critics: Remaking a film exactly like the original is a BAD idea.  If in doubt, see Psycho.  Schrader’s indicated he was foolish to use the name “Cat People” and wishes he’d changed it.  The films have no connection except a vague notion about human shape changers (vague because in the ’42 film, there may not be any cat people) and one similar scene in a swimming pool.  This is a different movie, with different themes, a different plot, and a different look.  It should be taken for what it is.

The other complaint is that it has a lot of nudity.  Apparently, nudity is bad.  I’ll have to remember that as it isn’t something that sticks in my mind (I’m happy about that by the way).  Those yelping about this are less clear on why nudity is bad, but just toss around the word “exploitation” and think they’ve said something meaningful.  Occasionally it’s pointed out that having people naked isn’t subtle.  How true.  And who said this was supposed to be subtle?

Cat People is an exciting, original film of a kind not made in recent prudish times.  The art direction alone makes it worthwhile.  Add in complex themes, beautiful cats, and the more beautiful Nastassia Kinski and you have a compelling two hours.

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The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982)

Oct 041982
 
two reels

It’s the French revolution, and innocent aristocrats are taken to the guillotine, often due to the actions of Citizen Chauvelin (Ian McKellen).  Luckily, there is the secretive Scarlet Pimpernel, who plucks the condemned from prison and whisks them off to England and safety.  Chauvelin will do anything to catch the Pimpernel, but he is unable to see that is enemy is foppish Sir Percy Blakeney (Anthony Andrews) in disguise.  Blackeney wins the heart of actress Marguerite St. Just (Jane Seymour), a woman that Chauvelin wanted for himself.  But a series of misunderstandings and blackmails leaves Blakeney doubting his wife and Chauvelin using her to get to the Pimpernel.

The Scarlet Pimpernel is the least Swashbuckling of the major Swashbuckling stories.  It’s really a leisurely-paced costume melodrama.  Its sharper elements are not swords, but words, with plenty of verbal jousting.  Well, in theory anyway.  This 1982 TV version is too lethargic for anything close to jousting.  There’s little wit, and what’s there is so diffuse as to fade into the endless glances and poses.  More often, the dialog is nothing but variations on Chauvelin saying “I’ll get him” and “For France,” Marguerite repeating “I love him” and “he’s not the man I married,” and Percy adding “What a poorly tied cravat” and “We must rescue them.”  Not exactly poetry.

As for action, we get one (just one!) swordfight, a few musket volleys (with the resulting wound ignored in subsequent scenes), several chases, and a couple beheadings (if those count as action).  It’s not enough to keep anyone’s interest, so it’s the story that’s got to carry the weight.  But there’s not enough of that, nor is it sufficiently inventive, for a 142 minute film.  Tighten the editing a bit (A bit!?  Try chopping 60 minutes out and we’ll talk) and The Scarlet Pimpernel would be fitting for a lazy Sunday evening.

Anthony Andrews does what he can, but we see far too much of his fop act, and it isn’t’ funny.  It reminds me of a Monty Python upper class twit routine, but without the humor.  Jane Seymour is beautiful.  She doesn’t manage to express the intelligence that Marguerite is supposed to possess, but beauty is enough.

If there is a reason to watch, it is for Ian McKellen, who is one of the best actors of the last forty years, and gives Chauvelin depth and complexity missing in other versions (and the books).  Best known now as the man who made getting older cool with his performances as Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings and Magneto in the three X-Men films, McKellen’s Shakespearian training (his Richard III is the finest interpretation of the character I’ve seen on stage or screen) puts him in a class above everyone else connected to the project.  Too bad he didn’t have more to work with.

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Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982)

Oct 021982
 
two reels

Doctor Dan Challis (Tom Atkins), suspicious after a man is murdered in the hospital, runs off with the victim’s daughter (Stacey Nelkin) to investigate a Halloween mask company that may hold clues to the killing.  The company’s CEO, Mr. Cochran (Dan O’Herlihy), is in charge of an army of androids, and has evil plans involving  masks and Celtic witchcraft.

A very British story, produced in a very American way, Halloween III: Season of the Witch is interesting, but the various aspects don’t fit together. Original writer, Nigel Kneale (The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass 2, Quatermass and the Pit, and The Quatermass Conclusion.) had his named removed when he learned what a violent flick it was going to be, and I can’t say he was wrong.  His story, very reminiscent of the last two Quatermass chapters, mixes technology with magic, and would be best suited for a smart adventure film.  I could see it as an episode of the old The Avengers series.  The horror and gore fit into another type of film.  If the filmmakers wanted a scary picture, than the robots should have been dumped and the movie made more intimate.

There’s a lot of plot in this ninety minute flick.  Perhaps enough for a season of a TV show.  Certainly more than can be covered in the feature format.  In some cases, it’s amusing to have huge parts of the story left unknown, but this only works occasionally.  Far too much is left open.

Dan Challis, a hard drinking divorced father of two who never has time for his family, investigates all of the weird happenings, and I kept asking myself: Why?  There’s an odd murder in the hospital, but that’s not enough motivation to compel him to follow improbable leads and then toss himself into dangerous situations.  There are plenty of police around.  Why did he need to personally get involved.  If there is some underlying cause for his behavior, I never saw it.  By the film’s end, I still had no idea who this guy was.  His romance with the dead man’s daughter comes out of the blue, as do most of his actions, and left me feeling that I was watching the rough draft for a film.  Stacey Nelkin is a beauty, but I learned less about her character than I did about Challis.

Halloween III is a wasted opportunity.  There are a lot of clever ideas, but few go anywhere.  The Slasher-style killings (fingers through the eye sockets, a head is torn off, a drill, etc.) are as gratuitous as the romance (which, by the way, lacks the expected gratuitous flesh), and with the characters left undeveloped, the tension is low.

Most discussions about this film have to do with the title.  For anyone unaware, this isn’t a Michael Myers film.  There’s no one walking around in a William Shatner mask stabbing people and getting up again every time he’s killed.  You see, Myers died in at the end of the second film, permanently.  John Carpenter (writer/director/producer of Halloween and writer/producer of Halloween 2) knew that everything that could or should be done with Michael Myers had been done, and decided to make an anthology of films, each one revolving around October 31st.  It was a great idea, and I’d have loved to see what he could have done with it.  But Halloween III: Season of the Witch failed at the box office, and that was the end of the anthology idea.  Fans of Slashers, who apparently wanted the same movie made over and over, were outraged that they were being require to think.  Exit Carpenter.  In his place came a string of low-talent directors and writers, kicking out lowest-common-denominator, retread sequels: Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers, Halloween 5, Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers, Halloween H20: 20 Years Later, and Halloween: Resurrection.

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The Sword and the Sorcerer (1982)

Oct 011982
 
three reels

King Titus Cromwell (Richard Lynch) summons a demonic sorcerer (Richard Moll) to aid him in conquering a neighboring kingdom, then betrays the sorcerer, but fails in his attempt to kill him.  Years later, Prince Mikah (Simon MacCorkindale), the closest thing anyone can find to an heir to the slain king, and his sister Alana (Kathleen Beller), are leading a small revolution to oust Cromwell.  They are secretly aided my Cromwell’s Chancellor, Machelli (George Maharis).  When Mikah is captured, Alana turns to Talon (Lee Horsley), a soldier of fortune who has just entered the kingdom and is, unbeknownst to all, the real heir to the throne.  While Talon attempts to free Mikah, for a price, Cromwell seeks out the sorcerer, who he is sure is the real force behind the insurrection.

It’s all there in the title.  There’s a sword and a sorcerer.  There’s no pretension toward great art.  There’s no message.  There’s no socially acceptable viewpoint or warning for children to keep on the straight and narrow.  There’s no insight into the human condition or heartwarming dramatic moment.  And there are no family values anywhere.  The Sword and the Sorcerer delivers exactly what it promises.  You should know from reading the title if this film is for you.

Certainly the purest Sword & Sorcery movie ever made (Conan the Barbarian, released the same year, takes the epic route and almost screams to be taken seriously), The Sword and the Sorcerer has the requisite guy-with-sword-who-hits-things.  And as this is no-flinching Sword & Sorcery, there are scantily clad and occasionally topless babes, torture—including a girl’s tongue being cut out and a man being crucified—horrific sorcery, blood, sex, and death.  Is any of that gratuitous?  No.  Or all of it is.  Take it whichever way you like, but it all fits together.

For its sub-genre, The Sword and the Sorcerer has a surprisingly complex plot (not so surprising if you read fantasy as Sword & Sorcery novels tend to make up for their limited themes with convoluted and detailed stories).  There are political dealings, shifting alliances, secrets, mysteries, prison breaks (lots and lots of prison breaks), and a labyrinth of relationships.  Of course this is all told at breakneck speed, so much of it is left for the viewer to fill in.  The story is only dressing.

Lee Horsley is an appealing lead.  He looks the part of a powerful warrior, and has almost enough charisma to make his character’s popularity believable (everybody in the world, from kings to prostitutes to thieves, loves Talon).  Perhaps the greatest lack in the stream of fantasy films that followed in the mid and late ’80s was a skilled actor who had the presence to portray a near-mythic character.  Horsley pulls it off admirably.

The rest of the cast is also a notch above the norm, with MacCorkindale and Maharis doing as much as their limited roles allow.  Kathleen Beller—of the remarkably deep and hypnotic eyes—is beautiful and could easily inspire men to do truly stupid things; what more could you ask for?  Richard Moll, best known as Bull on the TV show Night Court, was a common sight in ’80s low-budget fare.  Here, he uses his six-foot-seven height and unusual appearance to create a suitably evil necromancer.  Richard Lynch is a workman-like villain and while certainly better than most actors given similar roles, he is the weakest element in the film.  A stylish antagonist (well, protagonist in this case since he sets everything in motion) is as important as an engaging hero in any action flick, and Lynch isn’t memorable.

While the budget was low, it was spent well.  Many of the costumes could have been pulled from the racks of Joe’s Costume Shop, but the ones Beller wears shows her off to great advantage, so who cares about the others?  I doubt the sets could survive a brisk wind, but are varied and filled to the brim with appropriate clutter.  I wouldn’t want to shine a bright light on anything in this film as I’m sure I’d find seams, but the light is kept dim.

The fantasy elements occasionally strain the loose restraints of the genre where almost anything is allowed if it looks cool.  Talon’s unwieldy, three-bladed, rocket-propelled sword fails to be “cool,” managing only silly.  It would be too bulky to swing in a fight, and makes me wonder where he buys replacement blades since he never picks up the ones he’s fired.

You could argue that this is a Swashbucker.  It has the charming, overconfident rogue.  It has humor and witty dialog.  It has costumes from another time, and plenty of swords.  And it has fights filled with acrobatics.  That’s just about everything needed.  But what separates it from The Adventures of Robin Hood or Zorro is the morality.  Swashbuckers are tales of good verses evil.  This is a story of the self-centered and crude verses evil.  Would Robin Hood ever agree to help the poor only if the poor babes put out?  Would Zorro defeat tyranny provided there was a large chunk of semi-cooked meat and a nude girl in his bed when he was finished?  And in the end, that’s what makes The Sword and the Sorcerer a joy.  There is no attempt at a Hollywood ending.  There’s no cop-out.  No one learns a lesson and becomes a respectable citizen.

This is a tale of larger-than-life characters in a violent, fantastic world and it makes no apologies for saying absolutely nothing that will help you deal with your financial problems or ease your mind on the current political situation.  It’s a story.  And as that, it works.

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Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan (1982)

Aug 201982
 
five reels

A sequel to the old TV episode Space Seed, Wrath of Khan sees the return of the genetic supermen that Kirk left on planet to make their own way. Things didn’t work out well for them and Khan has slipped from megalomania into just being crazy.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture aimed high, and missed. Wrath of Khan lowered the target, and hit a bulls eye. The scale is smaller and the themes are less, but it all works. The actors are sure of their parts and all the characters both fit their well known personalities and are given the opportunity to expand. Plus we have a new one in Saavik, whose only flaw is not continuing through the rest of the series. The pace is nearly perfect with plenty of drama, a bit of comedy, and as much good old fashioned adventure as anyone could ask for.

There are some nods to aging, but it is less a theme than a motif. If there is a theme, it is friendship, and don’t worry about that as there are submarine battles in space, witty lines fired off one after an other, alien brain parasites, romance, and heroic suicides (a pair of them). There’s no time for thinking till it is over, and then you’ll just want to see it again.

And of course there is Khan Noonien Singh. Who’d have thought the greatest Star Trek villain, and one of the great villains of all time, would be a mad, Indian, genetic superman played by a scenery-chewing Latin American. But Khan is everything you’d ever want in a villain and even though he is a racist, murdering, sociopath, it is impossible not to sympathize with him.

Yes, I like a bit more message with my Star Trek, but there is enough here. This is a duel is space and it is a lot of fun.

My ranking of all Star Trek movies is here.

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The Secret of the Mummy (1982)

Jun 261982
 
two reels

Weird mad scientist Expedito Vitus (Wilson Grey), upset that people laughed at him over his claim of an elixir of life, takes up archeology briefly and discovers the mummy Runamb (Anselmo Vasconcelos). Things are looking up for the professor. His reputation has been repaired, he has a bubbling, curvaceous wife (Clarice Piovesan), and a mummy in the basement. Using his elixir, he resurrects the mummy, which he uses, along with his already immortal servant Igor (Felipe Falcao), to kidnap local girls for use in some kind of beast transformation experiment. Ah, but there’s a plucky reporter snooping around that could blow his whole scheme.

The Secret of the Mummy is terrible in the wonderful way that could only come from South American trash cinema. It’s a film that needs to be experienced once, though that is probably sufficient. Made in 1982, it looks like it was made in 1952, and with a minuscule budget. Watching it is an experience in unanswered questions. Why does the film switch between color and B&W? Why is there a long prologue where a dying man splits his map to the Egyptian tomb into eight pieces and gives them to his relatives, who are all then murdered? What is this experiment Vitus needs women for that pops up out of nowhere two-thirds of the way through the picture? Why does the professor have Arthur Frankenstein’s book on the mind (yes, that’s Arthur)? Why does Igor sing an operatic piece in the middle of the film? Why is there stock footage of a beauty pageant? And is this a comedy? Perhaps if I spoke Portuguese I could answer the last question, but the rest will remain mysteries.

secretofmummyThe Mummy doesn’t look like a mummy, but a guy with green gloves and a codpiece wrapped in modern bandages, but that doesn’t make him any worse than half the cinematic mummies. And I rather liked Runamb’s backstory as it isn’t the normal one. He was obsessed by a girl, so he bought slaves to have sex with and then murder. Apparently that was illegal in ancient Egypt, thus, one mummified psychopath. Sure, he was crazy, but less so than Vitus and Igor, who are really off the deep end.

There are plentiful topless women between the slaves of the past and the experimental victims of the present. I suppose it makes some sense for them to be bare breasted. At least it makes as much sense as anything in the film. There’s also a bit of gore than wouldn’t fool a toddler but does lead to a funny scene of Vitus chatting to a severed head.

The Secret of the Mummy is odd, rambling, and incoherent (enough so that I’ve read three reviews that get the basic plot wrong, or other copies have very different subtitles), but it isn’t boring.

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Swamp Thing (1982)

Feb 261982
 
2.5 reels

Super scientist Alec Holland (Ray Wise) is joined at his swamp laboratory by government agent Alice Cable (Adrienne Barbeau). Evil terrorist or scientist—it isn’t clear—Arcane (Louis Jourdan… No. Can’t be. Let me check. Nope. It’s Louis Jourdan. I guess those Gigi residuals had run out) wants Holland’s supper formula, and when he attempts to take it, an accident cause Holland to transform into the plant-based hero, Swamp Thing.

This is the one with Adrienne Barbeau’s boobs. If you think that doesn’t matter, this isn’t your film.

Swamp Thing is more EC Comics than DC Comics. It’s a simple horror morality play. No time is wasted. The evil folks are evil and the good are good. Love develops in ten minutes and the monster goes from mourning to eternal loneliness in a day.

Director Wes Craven (between his cruel rape and revenge film, The Last House on the Left, and before his breakout, quippy, slasher, A Nightmare on Elm Street) had an understanding of cult films. He knew to add squashed heads and bare breasts, to shift this from s kids film to the EC vibe. Louis Jourdan, slumming it, gives class to a milk toast villain and Barbeau was the personification of the early ‘80s, sexy non-damsel. It adds up to a film for teen boys, but they deserve a film every once in a while.

Some releases censor Ms. Barbeau attributes as well as some topless party entertainers. Don’t get those versions.

For some reason, there is a sequel, The Return of Swamp Thing.

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Creepshow (1982)

Feb 021982
 
two reels

A five story anthology film, plus a wraparound segment about a father (Tom Atkins) who finds his son’s creepy comics and reacts abusively.  The stories:

  • Father’s Day—A family reunion on Father’s Day looks grim when a long dead relative shows up.

  • Lonesome Death of Jordy Verill—A country bumpkin (Stephen King) finds a meteorite and foolishly touches it.

  • Something to Tide You Over—A possessive husband (Leslie Nielsen) confronts his wife’s lover (Ted Danson).

  • The Crate—At a small college, submissive professor (Hal Holbrook) dreams of ridding himself of his obnoxious wife (Adrienne Barbeau) while a colleague opens a mysterious crate.

  • They’re Creeping Up on You—A cruel corporate executive, living in a germ-free apartment, finds his home infested by cockroaches.

A collaboration by Director George A. Romero and writer Stephen King, Creepshow captures the gruesome, darkly humorous flavor of the EC Comics of the ’50s.  Now, more of a historical curiosity, comics like Crypt of Terror, Shock Illustrated, Vault of Horror, and Tales from the Crypt, captivated kids and dismayed their parents.  A congressional investigation and the creation of The Comics Code Authority killed off these magazines and kept the world a wholesome place.  Gosh the ’50s were keen.

Like those old comics, the stories in Creepshow tend to be simple revenge tales—far too simple.  Romero puts a bit of fun in each segment, using transitions reminiscent of a comic book, but there isn’t enough meat.  Short films can be very effective at conveying a single idea, but several of these stories lack even a solitary concept.  The first is a good example.  Father’s Day has no story.  It’s just a zombie walking in and killing some people.  That’s it.

The second, while more fun due to King’s overacting (the writing world doesn’t need to fear him switching careers), simply has a man become infected from a meteorite.  He doesn’t do anything about it nor does anything happen beyond the growth of the infection.

The third section, at least, has a story, even if every second of it is obvious from the start.  It also varies from the first two which were in the “good fun” category.  Something to Tide You Over is serious and nasty.  It’s too cruel to be much fun to watch as it marches to its inevitable climax.

The Crate is the best of the bunch, though it is yet another revenge story.  There is a touch of tension, some well placed laughs, and real satisfaction.  It doesn’t amount to much, but it’s worth the time.

The final story is as insignificant as the first two as a man who hates bugs finds a lot of them in his supposedly sterile apartment.  Bugs appear and he yelps and squishes them. That’s it.  No more meaning or point than that.

Since Creepshow was released, a number of similarly toned, comic book inspired, horror, anthology TV shows popped up and died off.  The most successful of these was Tales from the Crypt, though I was always partial to Monsters.  Creepshow feels like a pilot for these shows, but makes for a slightly better viewing experience due to the brevity of the segments.

The film can fit on several of my lists, but with two of the tales involving shambling undead, it belongs first with the zombies.

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Amityville II: The Possession (1982)

Jan 151982
 
two reels

A deeply dysfunctional family, consisting of an abusive father (Burt Young), an unstable mother (Rutanya Alda), an older brother and sister (Jack Magner, Diane Franklin) who are attracted to each other, and a younger brother and sister who like to play at murdering each other, move into the Amityville house, and demonic activity starts up immediately. The elder son is possessed and hears voices telling him to kill his family, while the local priest (James Olson) plans an exorcism.

When was house blessing a fad? I was raised Catholic, have many, many Catholic relatives, and knew the Catholic families around town, and no one ever had a priest drop by to bless a house. But in Amityville movies, there are always priests dropping round to sprinkle holy water.

Amityville II is the best film in the franchise, and it is hard to find a more insignificant compliment. The first film claimed to be a true account of a demonic house, based on a conman and his wife’s (a con-woman? A con-couple?) book. Their story has since been thoroughly debunked, and they finally admitted it was all a fake. Amityville II is a strange bird. In reality, there was a multiple murder committed at the home (a fact that George Lutz, the conman, took advantage of in creating his fraud). So, is this a prequel, telling the story of those initial killings? The names have changed, as have the police accounts, the involvement of a priest, etc. Even the date is wrong, as this film is set in the ‘80s. As the filmmakers didn’t feel constrained by any reality, it works out best to just see this as fiction.

And how does it stand up as fiction? It begins well. This is a family ripe for demonic possession. Burt Young creates a real horror in the father, who beats his wife and children, yells more often than speaks, embarrasses them, and is rude to everyone. If you want to make a movie about evil, he’s a great place to start. The mother is almost as repugnant. Filled with self-deception, she’s obsessively religious and frigid. The youngest children are constantly saying how they love their siblings, and then one puts a plastic bag over the other’s head—for fun. These are not well children. They are also bizarrely happy considering their situation, but that looks to be an error in scripting rather than warped character development. Then there is quiet, introspective Sonny, the eldest son, who has a homicidal rage growing within. You can’t blame him considering his father. Sonny is also overly fond of his sister. And his sister is an airhead who returns his affections. A demon would be thrilled to have such an easy bunch to work with. It doesn’t take much pushing to send them all into unpleasant territories. And that’s where this movie works. Each family member’s problematic traits are intensified (except for Sonny who is fully possessed so he just flips out completely). The beatings are intensified, mom gets more unstable, and Sonny and his Sister launch into a physical relationship that is unpleasant for everyone. His seduction of her is humorously underwritten:

Sonny: “Take off your nightgown.”
Sister: “What?”
Sonny: “Just for a second”
Sister: “OK. Just for a second.”

Wow, this guy’s good with girls. Now I know it is his sister and she loves him, but I would have thought it would be slightly harder to convince your sister to strip for sex.

All this leads to the obvious climax that is the high point of the film. But it happens at the halfway mark. Then things devolve into a rip off of The Exorcist. The second half of the film now stars the priest, overacted by James Olson. He apparently watched The Exorcist (as did the script writers) and paraphrases it for the last twenty minutes of the film. I suppose they figured The Exorcist had brought in some good money, so why not copy it? There’s no other reason. I can think of at least ten better ways to wrap up the film if the story is a consideration. But I’m confident that a coherent story was not even part of the discussion when putting this movie together.

The final third also requires some pretty odd behavior on the part of the police to move the plot along. Apparently, these police don’t handcuff multi-murder suspects and they don’t even look for the guy who carried out a jailbreak.

Perhaps the best move is to switch this on (notice I’m talking about seeing it when it pops up on cable, not paying for it at a theater or even as a rental), watch until the mass murder, then switch over to the news.

It was followed by Amityville 3-D.

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