Directed by Toshiharu Ikeda (Sex Hunter) from a script by Takashi Ishii (the Angel Guts series), the title of this in Japanese translates as Trap of The Dead Spirits.
The co-star was a bigger name than any of the stars in this movie. Rei Sugiura is one of the most important Japanese AV (Adult Video) idols of all time. Her parent company, Japan Home Video (JHV) (she was part of their AV label Alice Japan) financed the film as a vehicle for her, but Ikeda was unsure if she could act. That’s why Miyuki Ono has the lead, playing Nami Tsuchiya, who hosts the TV show Late Night With Nami, which is all about viewers sending in their strange home videos. When one is a snuff film, she smells a story and her team soon heads to an abandoned factory to get the story.
That tape — addressed to her and for those that can’t sleep — features a woman being murdered (and her eye being slashed out, betraying the influence of Lucio Fulci on Ishii). While the rest of her crew wanders the factory — which really means have sex — a strange man warns her to leave.
After that, the movie lives up to its title, as a series of traps take out the crewmembers one by one, in incredibly inventive ways, often lit ala Bava and feeling like Argento*. I don’t say that in a negative way. I mean it as a high compliment. There’s also a high gore content, as this is 1988 Japan, and if you’re turned off by people being shot in the back of the head with arrows that come right out of their mouth, then this is not the movie for you.
Also, if you’re the kind of person that demands that your slashers are rooted in reality, you’re going to love this movie until the last part, when it decides to stop being a slasher and become pure weirdness, with cojoined and unknown twins, dream sequences and a twist ending that sprays blood all over the place.
You know how fusion cooking combines wildly disparate food cultures? Evil Dead Trap is that, but for gore-drenched giallo slasher hybrids. I loved every drippy, chewy and fatty bite.
Thanks to R. D Francis for giving me the heads up that you can watch this on FShare.
*Sounding, too. You’d swear this movie had the soundtrack of a 1980’s Italian horror movie.
When Malcolm wakes up, he has no idea where — or even who — he is. A woman who tells him that she is his wife Helen reassures and reminds himself of his identity and that he’s recovering for an accident. But as others arrive, like Ian and a masked group that wants something that Malcolm has been hiding, nothing makes sense.
The first full-length movie by Tomas Street, Fugue has some moments of beauty mixed with darkness. Jack Foley, who was also in Lifechanger, is great in the lead role, suggesting a toughness beneath the surface of a man whose memory has left him. Laura Tremblay, who plays his — well, maybe — wife is also good in this.
It’s an intriguing idea for a movie that’s well-executed. What else do you want, you know?
Day 25: Hey, Baby, Can You Dance to It? This one has to have at least one substantial dancing scene in it.
We spoke of this feature film writing and directing debut from the Weinstein brothers Harvey and Bob for their Miramax Pictures imprint in passing during our review for the somewhat similarly-premised Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel and during Videoscope‘s Robert Freese’s overview “Exploring: ’80s Comedies” featurette for B&S About Movies. And now, courtesy of the gang at Scarecrow Video coming up with their 25th theme day—and the fact that, Marisa Tomei, in her feature film-starring debut (she gets an “Introducing . . . As” title card in the opening credits), soft shoes a roof-topped dance number with a paint brush in-hand during a renovation scene—we’re finally giving it a review proper. (Thanks, Scarecrow dudes, for thou doeth suck. Just kidding. No, not really.)
So, before we get into the film itself, let’s unpack the film’s history and get the bad film Intel out of the way because this is one of those cases where the backstory (Playback, Spring Break ’83, Zyzzyx Road, Rocktober Blood 2: Billy’s Back) is much more interesting than the actual film.
First: Yes, Jimmy Baio—best remembered as the smart-mouthed Carmen Ronzonni in 1977’s The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training and Billy Tate in ABC-TV’s Soap—is the cousin of Scott Baio (TV’s Happy Days, Charles in Charge). Matthew Penn, however, is not related to Sean Penn. And Matt’s dad is Bonnie and Clyde and Little Big Man director Arthur Penn. And Sean’s dad isn’t Arthur Penn; his dad is acclaimed network TV series director Leo Penn. Chris Penn, the actor, and Michael Penn, the singer, aren’t Matt’s brothers, their Sean’s.
Second: While Matthew made his feature film acting debut in the never-released Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel (1983) alongside a pre-Breakfast Club Judd Nelson, none of the footage from that film was recut as, nor repurposed as stock footage for, Playing for Keeps.
Are you enjoying your stay at the Majestic? Not!
Third: Playing for Keeps was finished and in the can in 1984 (and also known as Rock Hotel Majestic in some quarters) and sat on the shelf for two years before its theatrical release. And while Matthew Penn awaited its release, his second feature film was a support role in the Kristie McNichol-starring Dream Lover. And, yes. The name “Matthew Penn” you’ve seen listed as an executive producer on Law & Order: TOS and USA Network’s Queen of the South is the same Matthew Penn.
Fourth: Playing for Keeps was all but forgot, and found a new audience, in late-2017 when the New York Times mentioned the movie as the scene for one of Harvey Weinstein’s earliest, alleged sexual harassment episodes; this according to 20-year-old aspiring actress and college-attending waitress Tomi-Ann Roberts (who subsequently didn’t appear in the film).
Fifth: Much like with Alan Arkush basing his lesser-known Rock ‘n’ Roll High School follow up, Get Crazy (1983), on his experiences working at New York’s The Fillmore East, Playing for Keeps was inspired by Harvey and his brother Bob’s experiences of owning the Century Theater in Buffalo, New York, and operating it as a rock ‘n’ roll club from 1974 to 1978.
Sixth: The film began production back in 1983 at the shuttered Bethany Colony Hotel in the northeastern Pennsylvania city of Honesdale—and while the old girl was in still pretty decent shape, the production trashed the joint and left it in worse condition than they found it. Nice going, Harvey.
Seventh: Playing for Keeps wasn’t the debut release for Miramax Pictures; it was the writing and directing debut for bosses Harvey and Bob. The film served as the only director credit for Bob; Harvey would direct one more feature: 1987’s animated The Gnomes’ Great Adventure. The brotherly duo’s first-distributed film was a chronicle of Paul McCartney’s 1976 Wings Over America Tour—1980’s Rockshow. Their first produced film (distributed by Filmways) was the 1981 slasher The Burning, which served as Bob and Harvey’s only other writing credit. And Miramax only produced; Universal distributed Playing for Keeps.
Eighth: MTV aired a 22-minute making-of documentary, Playing for Keeps: The Team Behind a Dream, as part of the film’s promotional efforts. It didn’t work: the film tanked, making just over two and a half million in box office.
Courtesy of Billboard Magazine; October 11, 1986/Google Books.
Playing for Keeps—like most of those ’80s snobs vs slobs, aka lovable losers, aka men behaving badly comedy knockoffs (as pointed out by Robert Freese) in the backwash of Animal House, Meatballs, and Caddyshack, i.e., Joysticks, My Chauffeur, and Hamburger: The Motion Picture—is a film of a time and place. The appreciation of a film—whether it is good or bad, well-made or poorly made—is based in the age of the viewer; if you were in middle school or just starting high school at the time of its release, re-watching the Weinstein’s film will warm your analog cockles as a “classic” film.
Me: I was already ensconced in adulthood, wearing shirts with collars, even ties, when Playing for Keeps was released. Those ’80s Harold Faltermeyer-gated synth drums and Herbie Hancock keyboard-noodles of the film’s score were the bane of my punk-new wave-metal upbringing—and the Atlantic Records-produced soundtrack (Discogs) was loaded with more than I could bear. At least the later, somewhat similar The Runnin’ Kind had a pseudo-punk snarl to it. Here, we get the annoying Duran Duran splinter group, Arcadia (What?! No Spandau Ballet?), appearing alongside side freakin’ non-Genesis Phil Collins to nullify any coolness Pete Townshend brings to the proceedings (and it’s not even a “cool” Townshend tune). And, wow. What producer showed Peter Frampton the way to a career resurgence was to go with the Def Leppard-sellout drum cacophony?
It’s amazing that Marisa Tomei course-corrected out of this into a 20-plus episode stint on NBC-TV’s Cosby spinoff A Different World—and discovered Oscar gold with My Cousin Vinny six years later. Then again, it’s not amazing, because, even in her minor role (regardless of the later VHS and grey-market DVD repacks pushing her to the forefront) with her sub-par acting, she’s the best actor in the movie. No, I take that back. Her, and the 200-plus credited (and Shakesperean-trained) Harold Gould, are the best actors in the movie. The rest are just as awful as they wanna-be (as you’d expect they’d be) in an ’80s snobs vs slobs, aka lovable losers, aka men behaving badly ripoff-programmer.
So the “snobs” in this one are a corrupt chemical company executive and town politician with their eyes on the dilapidated Majestic Hotel property in upstate New York. And everything is going according to their sinister plan . . . until Danny (seriously annoying and totally unlikable; you just want to give him an ol’ Corky Ramono-Chris Kattan nut punch), a ne’er-do-well dreamer n’ schemer high school graduate (this really needed a Michael J. Fox or Tom Cruise to pull it off) discovers his down and out divorced mom inherited the deed to the hotel from a dead aunt. (Comedy: you gotta love it.)
So, with his two lazy-Meatballs buddies—the trio runs around New York with their other Porky’s-friends playing some goofy inner city street game called “Christopher Columbus” (there was no water around to play “Marco Polo”)—they ditch their manual labor employment agency jobs to turn the Majestic into a rock ‘n’ club and hotel. But they need to pay off the $8,000 tax bill. But how? They dress up as boy-scouts and sell cookies to earn the doe. Seriously, that’s the level of comedy here . . . and common sense. Why not work your asses off at the employment agency jobs . . . oh, because that’s not “funny. . . .”
You tell ’em, Rocko. And get me a coke.
(Thanks for being cool, Mr. Duffy, and not having this clip, deleted, and ruining the gag.)
Now, I know this is sexist (Sorry, Harvey. Send your complaint to Sam; he’ll stick ’em in my employee file with the rest of ’em; I’ll see you at the annual review, Sam), but the gag could have worked . . . if we were dealing with three just out-of-high school women, say Marisa Tomei, with, say . . . Deborah Foreman and Elizabeth Daily. The whole scene of these three Stripes-dopes hocking thin mints in little Boy Scouts pseudo-military uniforms is utterly painful to watch. (Are you sure James Gunn didn’t make this? Nope. The Weinsteins did. Oops, Sorry, bad joke, Mr. Gunn. The awfulness of Playing for Keeps is inspiring me, I tell ‘ya!)
Okay, so we have dead aunts, overgrown pedo-boy scouts, and “Christopher Columbus” parkour dance numbers ripped from West Side Story, you got that? You keepin’ up?
Okay. Of course, when Shaggy and the Mystery Machine gang get there . . . the hotel is a rotted, rat-infested dump (that reminds of the Delta House, natch) that’ll fall over in a stiff wind. But Freddy, Thelma, and Daphne meet The Majestic’s kindly, ‘ol resident squatter (again, the-deserves-better-than-this Harold Gould) who inspires the misguided high school grads with good advice and nuggets of wisdom. And there’s sexual fantasy daydreams with Toni “Hey, Mickey” Basil doing her choreography thing (or was that Paula Abdul?). And Marisa Tomei doing a “Phoebe Cates” from Fast Times of Ridgemont High sexual fantasy daydream-ripoff holding a plate of cookies and candies. (“Oh, Brad, Spikes, you know, I always thought you were cute. are you hungry?”) And there’s “home improvement” dance numbers to Sister Sledge songs. And dancing—as per the Day 25 Scarecrow requirement—just breaks out without any particular rhyme or reason. And we wish Ferris Bueller had another day off and showed up with a hammer. And Bill Murray with a weed wacker and a brick of C4. Or Kevin Bacon took a day off and did a dance number with a broom. Or Michael Beck took a break from Xanadu. And that Tomei, Foreman, and Daily were selling the cookies to finance the paying off of the tax bill: Seriously, Weinstein bros. You already made a bad “cookie and candy” joke with Marisa, so why not put her in a sexed-up Girls Scouts uniform? Oh . . . because she wasn’t really hocking “sex cookies,” it was a “day dream.” Oh, okay. Screenwriting semantics. Got ‘ya, Harvey.
“You need to show ass to sell this movie! Is no ass here!”
LISAAAAAA! WHY?
Tommy Wiseau? What in the hell are you doing here? Didn’t I already make enough comparative critiques of your oeuvre in last October’s “Slasher Month” and “Scarecrow Challenge” reviews for Spine and Ice Cream Man, and last November’s Mill Creek Pure Terror*˟ box set tribute for Joy “J.N” Houck’s Night of Bloody Horror?
“Is plot twist. Oh, hi doggie.”
Anywhoo . . . in the end: Playing for Keeps took Miramax to the next level as they became America’s leading distribution purveyor of foreign and indie films. Then they met some kid named Quentin Tarantino* and distributed Reservoir Dogs. And some kid named Kevin Smith and distributed Clerks**. And you know the rest of the yada, yada, yada on Miramax. (Sorry, Sam. And I was doing so darn well with your Seinfeld References Ban.)
Anywhoo . . . you can stream the nostalgia for free on You Tube because, due to the usual licensing snafus regarding soundtracks with these old films, Playing for Keeps has never been officially transferred to DVD, so there’s no digital streams available in the regulated PPV and VOD marketplace.
DAY 25. HEY BABY, CAN YOU DANCE TO IT?: This one has to have one substantial dancing scene in it.
For this day of the Scarecrow Challenge, I decided to do that Italian movie about ghosts and murder in a dance academy. Oh, there’s more than one?
You know, the Italian horror movie that Jennifer Connelly did. Oh, there’s more than one of those, too?
Etoile. Everyone knows this one, right? It’s that movie where a girl gets possessed as she dances Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. There’s a more famous movie like that, too?
But seriously, this is the film that is not Suspiria or Phenomena or Black Swan.
Connelly plays Claire Hamilton, a ballerina who comes to Budapest to further her dance career and loses her identity to a 19th century dancer named Natalie Horvath who was killed in a tragic carriage accident. But this movie is not content to merely homage — or rip-off — one Argento film. The end was called out by critics for how close it is to Operaand the entire basement sequence reminds one of Inferno, except you know, there’s a giant swan pecking at the hero.
Also — Argento didn’t somehow get Charles Durning into his movie.
Peter Del Monte is better known for his film Julia and Julia. While not a bad movie, this would really benefit from a more artistic eye, but there I go comparing this movie to Argento all over again.
You can get this from Ronin Flix or watch it on YouTube.
Day 25: Hey, Baby, Can You Dance to It? This one has to have at least one substantial dancing scene in it. (And this one has a LOT!)
“Where Sex and Laughter Run Riot.” “Make your reservation for an explosive time at . . . The Rosebud Beach Hotel.” — From the Harry Tampa-employed copywriter’s department
Remember the crack I made about Concentration, the ’70s NBC-TV game show and its subsequent board game, in the context of our 2020 Scarecrow Psychotronic Challenge Day 4 review? In that review I remembered little Jennifer Bates from the Georgia-shot Evil in the Woods grew up to work with director Bret Wood of Kino International, who recently returned to the big screen with Those Who Deserve to Die.
Well, this review is another “concentration” moment: for who else would remember the name of actor Daniel Green and go, “Holy Concentration, Batman! That’s Paco Querak!” And seriously: who else do you know that remembers the character names of D-grade Max Rockatansky and Snake Plissken knockoffs?
“I’d like to solve, Bill. ‘Daniel Green as Paco Querak!'”
Answer: me. And I am damn proud of my gifted “superpowers” that can’t save the world for shite . . . but Sam is lucky to have me on the staff at B&S About Movies to remember such things. Even Bill Van Ryn is amazed of the utter celluloid shite I can recall . . . for an VHS-analog-programmed brain is a terrible thing to waste. (Bill? You’re two weeks behind on the Groovy Doom and Drive-In Asylum plug payments. Don’t make me send Mr. Querak to collect and go apoc on your ass.)
So, back to Paco . . . sometime after doing the network TV rounds with episodes of Three’s Company, Matt Houston, and The Scarecrow (!) and Mrs. King, and The A-Team — and before his entry in the annals of Apocdom with Sergio Martino, aka Martin Doleman (2019: After the Fall of New York), in Hands of Steel — Daniel Green made his big screen debut in this Harry “Tampa” Hurwitz production.
Yes, the same guy who thought meshing vampires and disco was box office gold and that the road to the Oscars was paved with Smokey and the Bandit and Cannonball Run good intentions. And ‘ol Harry’s never one to pass on a trend: a “trend’ that Robert Freese of Videoscope Magazine expertly pontificated in his “Exploring: ’80s Comedies” featurette for B&S About Movies. (I accept Paypal, Roger. Again, Paco’s only a phone call away.)
Vampires, African Tundras, and South Beach Hotels, oh, my!
As Robert pointed out, after the Snobs vs. Slobs subgenre (Animal House, Meatballs, Stripes, Caddyshack), the next popular and most common comedy subgenre of the ‘80s was the Sex Comedies/Teen Sex Comedies or — what Robert accurately refers to as — the “Everybody gets laid” movies. And while sex comedies were bountiful in the ’70s and continued in the ’80s, with Tom Cruise’s big screen debut in Goin’ All the Way, Private Lessons, and Waitress!, it was Bob Clark’s Porky‘s, released in 1981 amid those films, that set the stage: for Porky’s was the Star Wars of comedy films.
And Harry Tampa jumped on that porcine ripoff train, baby.
Hey, but wait a minute . . . Harry was already in the sex comedy game! In 1970 he brought us The Projectionist starring Chuck McCann and Rodney Dangerfield (aka the requisite slob vs. snob actor with Caddyshack and Easy Money). And how can we forget that 1978 dirty-ditty Fairy Tales, starring Sy Richardson of Charles Band’s softcore version of Cinderella. And how can we forget Harry’s other Charles Band co-production: Auditions, a documentary on the casting call for the never-made sequel to Fairy Tales. (And while I don’t recall it as “sex comedy”: did you know Harry made Richard, a 1972 satirical biopic on President Richard M. Nixon. True story.)
“R.D. Dude? We get it. You’re a fan of Harry Hurwitz films. So, what’s this all have to do with ‘dancing’ and the Scarecrow Challenge?”
Well, in the universe of Harry “Tampa” Hurwitz, not only do you get lots of beach frolicking and dancing . . . and Paco Querak. You also get Colleen Camp (Valley Girl), Bobbi Flekman from the Polymer A&R Department, Eddie Deezen, Chuck McCann, Hamilton Camp, a has-been Bosom Buddy, and an ex-Runaway. And since Harry had Christopher Lee on the hook from last year’s Safari 3000, he’s shows up, too.
Yes, you heard me right: Sir Christopher Lee in a sexploitation movie.
You heard me right: Runaways, Paco, Draculas, and Buck Rogers. Oh, my!
And “Oh, my!” is right, because this thing — as most ripoffs are — is a mess. Like a Golfballs! ripoff mess. Like a Rock ‘n’ Roll Hotel mess — only with a few just-for-the-hell-of-it shots of topless bellhop women (by adult film stars Monique Gabrielle, Julia Always, Durga McBroom, Tina Merkle, Julia Parton, and Paula Wood), you know, to sell those tickets . . . but this, like Nocturna, didn’t sell any tickets. . . .
So, the ol’ Count owns a dying hotel on Miami Beach that he’s ready to torch for the insurance money. But his daughter Tracy (Colleen Camp) convinces him that her milquetoast-workaholic fiancé (Peter Scolari) can run the hotel. And Papa Drac hates ol’ Pete, so he’s got a plan in place for the hotel to fail so his daughter dumps him. And to make it all work: Tracy hires hookers (led by Madam Fran Drescher) to work as bellhops to “service” the clientele. And Eddie Deezen . . . is Eddie Deezen . . . the same Eddie Deezen we just reviewed in Beverly Hills Vamp. And if you know your Eddie Deezen you know what we Deez, ah, mean.
“Hey, what about the Runaways?”
Well, Cherie Currie, who long quit the Runaways (of duBeate-o fame) at this point, was attempting to forge a solo career with her sister Marie Currie, which put out their only album, 1980’s Messin’ with the Boys (their cover of Russ Ballard’s — by way of Rainbow and St. Louis’ Head East — “Since You’ve Been Gone” hit #95 on the U.S. Top 100). So why they’re here — as dialogless singing maids — four years after the failure of that album, is anyone’s guess. Well, there’s no guessin’ necessary because, hey, it’s a Harry Tampa production and common sense goes out the 10th floor of the Rosebud (well, actually, the hotel is the “Fiesta,” but that’s plot piffle).
“Hey, wait a sec, R.D? So, is Buster Crabbe in here? You mentioned Buck Rogers.”
Nope, he died in 1983.
“Gil Gerard?”
Nope. The red jump suit.
“The . . . what the frack, R.D?”
The Currie sisters rock out wearing the same jumpsuits Markie Post from NBC-TV’s Night Court wore during her season one guest stint as Joella Cameron on Buck Rogers in the 25th Century (the 1979 two-parter “The Plot to Kill a City” if you’re interested). As it turns out, the Universal Studios’ wardrobe department made two suits for the episode — and were shocked to re-discover the matching wares, when fitting the Currie sisters for the film.
Oh, and get this: the sci-fi connection continues . . . as Jay Chattaway, who scored the film, went on to compose the music for the Star Trek TV franchise. Oh, and he scored Maniac, Maniac Cop, and Maniac Cop 2.
Sadly, the Rosebud soundtrack — which the Currie sisters co-wrote with producer Dan Ferguson and their bassist, Stephen Crane — intended to be their follow up to Messin’ with the Boys, was never released. The Currie Sisters’ band also featured ex-Boz Scaggs and soon-to-be Cinderella drummer Jody Cortez (he recorded their hit album Night Songs but left the band before its release). Their guitarist, Duane Sciacqua, was a member of Marie’s husband, Steve Lukather’s, (Toto) solo bands and, with Stephen Crane, Sciacqua recorded an album for MCA Records under the KICKS moniker (“All My Love“). Sciacqua’s since toured and recorded with Glenn Frey, Joe Walsh, and Paul McCartney, and scored Sylvester Stallone’s Cobra.
While you can enjoy the Currie sisters tearin’ up their beach concert, you can enjoy several songs from the soundtrack, via film clips, on You Tube — and yes, each of the clips features LOTS of dancing, as per the Scarecrow requirement!
You can watch — and dance to, and drool to Fran Drescher in a bellhop uniform — The Rosebud Beach Hotel on You Tube. And all kidding aside, Harry. We love you. Thanks for VHS and cable memories.
Hey, be sure to check out our “Drive-In Friday” tribute to five of good ol’ Uncle Harry’s films!
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook.He also writes for B&S About Movies.
In the year 2002, amazons and mutants battle one another, which mainly consists of women lying in beds and being butchered or alternatively screwing out the brains — literally — of said mutants.
But no, really, we’re just watching a movie being made by special effects experts — a phrase I should have written as “experts” — while a voiceover* explains to us why this is all so important.
Toronto’s finest exotic dancers — I assume all have worked the Brass Rail on Younge Street — have consented to be made up by these maniacs, who include a man named Fang, in a movie that only exists inside this movie, which seems to be a making of for a movie that was never made.
You with me? For full enjoyment of this film, I advise checking out Rick Trembles’ cartoon of the movie at Canuxpolitation!
The crew of Gory Philms is ready to show you each effect three times in a row with no real story, so if you’re ready for the kind of shot on video fun that teenagers like me enjoyed around 1986, you can watch this on YouTube.
*The narration comes from Chris Britton, who has showed up in minor roles in everything from Scanners, The Brood and The Shack to voiceover work, with roles as Mr. Sinister on the 90’s X-Men cartoon and the drive-thru in Maximum Overdrive.
The trailer and film comes and goes from You Tube, but we found the latest age-restricted sign-in copies, just click the links
Originally meant to be directed by John Carl Buechler and star Jack Palance, budget woes changed things up and this ended up being made by Emmett Alston (Nine Deaths of the Ninja, New Year’s Evil) on board and George Kennedy — who stipulated that his daughter Shannon must have a role, that he’d only be on set for three days and that he’d get $15,000 for his work.
Jack Bergman has led four of his friends — Fred Proctor, Carrie Austin, Cindy Ossman* and Tom Phillips (Billy Jacoby!) — to his uncle’s cabin for a weekend of booze, sex and hijinks. That was the plan, but the truth is that his uncle was taken away by a sasquatch and a woman killed right in the place where they’re supposed to be hanging and banging.
Then there’s Bill Crafton (Kennedy), an angry older man who is both the crazy man warning them all to stay out of the woods and the tough elder seeking his missing daughter. After the girls get naked, the beast attacks and wipes out everyone but Jack, Carrie and Cindy, who survive the night only to have to wander a path back to civilization.
If you’re like, “Oh cool, another Bigfoot slasher ala Night of the Demon,” just stay tuned.
That’s when they meet Tara (Kennedy’s daughter Shannon) and Betsy (Michelle Bauer!), who are seeking a field of marijuana, which leads to Bauer getting nude — shock of shocks! — and zombies showing up. That’s when this movie goes off the rails, seemingly throwing everything you’ve ever seen in ten horror movies, proving you a 5 for $5 for 5 nights rental experience all in one film.
Shot in the Bronson Cave section of Griffith Park — a setting for many a science fiction and horror film and TV show — Demonwarp then piles on everything it can, like space devil worshippers in a giant UFO experimenting on teenagers, zombies in The Residents t-shirts, George Kennedy running around and Bauer remaining naked for nearly the entire time she’s on screen, as well as a trick ending.
You ever put Chinese food on top of a pizza and then dunk it into a bowl of chili? This film Taco Towns that concept and throws you a crepe, some gruyere cheese, a layer of special guacomolito sauce, wraps it in a corn husk filled with pico de gallo and then layers it with zombies, a Bigfoot who looks more like a gorilla, shoots it all in broad daylight and serves it up in a commemorative tote bag filled with spicy vegetarian chili.
More movies should be this wild.
You can watch this on YouTube.
*Note that Bergman, Proctor, Ossman and Austin’s last names are all taken from members of the Firesign Theater.
After several people watch a man get killed in the park — and do nothing — they learn that each of them are being hunted and killed by a supernatural force.
If that sounds somewhat like a reimagined Final Destination— one act uniting the deaths of multiple people — that’s because this was written and directed by that series’ creator, Jeffrey Reddick.
Jeremy Holm, who was The Ranger, shows up in this, to explain the karma behind this tale of people who have witnessed murders but refused to help. When they finally become a Good Samaritan (the original title), they die. Also — birds fly right into windows, so the explanation seems to be more supernatural than some kind of conspiracy.
Don’t Look Back will be released on October 9 across all digital platforms by Gravitas Ventures through Kamikaze Dogfight Studios. You can learn more about the film at its official Facebook page. I could totally see this as being a movie that would have been on the shelves at Blockbuster and you can consider that a huge compliment, as Don’t Look Back is very direct-to-video in all the best of ways.
Another Kamikaze Dogfight release we’ve recently reviewed is the zombie-serial killer romp Necropath.
A couple wakes up in the middle of the night to discover a strange man searching for something in their house. After they are forced to kill him in self-defense, they decide to spend an hour before calling the police. That’s because they decide to hunt for whatever that man was looking for, which very well may have been a hidden fortune.
The first full-length feature by Walker Whited, who co-wrote this along with Sean McCane, this boasts a good performance by Michelle Rose (who has a pretty impressive stunt resume and puts that to use in this film as well). As her character struggles with job loss, PTSD and the loss of a child, you get the idea of how the idea of finding money inside her new home may just be the silver lining that she and her husband Mark (Kurt Yu) need to escape their downward path. Of course, things are never quite that simple.
By Night’s End is now streaming on your favorite platform. You can learn more on the official site.
DAY 24. AT THE GIG: Something with live band scenes.
Man, I have so many movies with live band scenes that I’ve already used for this challenge, but I decided to look for something that has a band appearance that doesn’t fit into the actual narrative of the film, which is one of my favorite things in film.
I went with this Don Dohler made in Baltimore alien epic — that word may be stretching it — all about a spaceship containing specimens for an intergalactic zoo crashes on Earth, with the creatures escaping in killing all manner of small town folks.
What can you say about a movie where an astronomer doesn’t know the difference between a meteor and a meteorite? Oh well — it was Dohler’s first film and he certainly had no shortage of ideas and a definite finite cash supply. There are also moments of low tech effects glee here, like when the aliens make dotted fuzz patterns that possess people. Sure, they could have paid for a much better effect, but when it works this good, why worry?
The best reason to watch this — beyond the awesome monsters, which are really creative — is a trip to the AnIr Lounge, which promises discount liquors and has a bartender whose bottle blonde beehive would make my wife jealous. The band Atlantis is on stage, featuring Dohler’s brother on bass, and they look and sound like a band that was around at least a decade before when this movie was made in 1978. The movie completely stops so that they can play the song in its entirety when, let’s face it, deadly aliens should be on everyone’s’ minds at this point.
Isn’t it amazing that two underground voices rose from Baltimore? On one hand, you have the anarchy and boundary-breaking films of John Waters and then, there are the rubber-suited alien invaders of Dohler. What a magical place you are, Charm City.
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