Category Archives: SOV

2020 Scarecrow Psychotronic Challenge Day 19: Deadbeat at Dawn (1988)

Posted on by

Day 19: Beyond the Darkness: Watch one with a love story. There’s more than one way to get mushy! (But this also a “two-fer,” as it qualifies as an October “Slasher Month” entry!)

Once more unto the ’80s SOV breach, dear trash video friends, once more, we go — with a film that, for me, works as a homage to the violent n’ gritty, self-destructive characters of Abel Ferrara’s (The App) initial, “video nasty” one-two punch of The Driller Killer and Ms. 45. If you’re familiar with the Ferrara canons — even with his later, more commercial films, such as Fear City and Bad Lieutenant — you know his films are all about the faith and redemption of screwed-up people making do in a screwed-up world.

Watch the trailer.

So goes the life of Danny and Goose (Paul Harper and writer-director Jim Van Bebber) in a tale we’ve seen many times before: The leader of the Ravens wants out to create a better life for him and his girl — and after one, last job, he’s done (as in the recently reviewed The Good Things Devils Do). But once you’re in “the life,” you’re never out. So when the members of a rival gang kill his woman in spite of his wanting to leave the life, Goose is out for an over-the-top, video game-styled revenge (the love-gushy Scarecrow Video part!), full knowing that his bloody rage (that will remind the underground SOV connoisseur of Buddy Giovinazzo’s 1984 debut Combat Shock) will, most likely, leave him dead by dawn. (Don’t believe me? The dudes at the Sleazoids Podcast You Tube paired Combat Shock and Deadbeat at Dawn into one review-show.)

Now, you may have seen that described tale before . . . but not one that’s directed by Jim Van Bebber, baby. His outlandish scripting is supported by kinetic camera work capturing some of the most over the top, slasher-inspired splatter (it’s “Slasher Month” all this month B&S!) that rivals the worst (or best?) of the Italian cannibal genre-boom of the ’70s and ’80s. Seriously. That’s it. That’s the plot. A simple set up giving reason for Goose to set out on revenge — and Goose cutting an ultra-violent swath across the city without reason — well, actually, “for love,” right? This shite that goes down . . . dude, Patrick Swayze would shite his pants in the Road House* that Brad Wesley built. If Road House was made in the grindhouse ’70s — and slapped with an “X,” it would be Deadbeat at Dawn.

So, how did we come to review this SOV classic from Jim Van Bebber? (Yes, it was shot on 16mm, but it’s all about the “vibe” of it all; I lump Don Dohler into the SOV-doms — even though he shot on 16mm and blew ’em to 35. There’d be no SOV ’80s* without Don’s pre-video store, drive-era influences.) Well, first off, I went down an SOV rabbit hole with a review of Curse of the Blue Lights, Jugular Wine, and Tainted for “Vampire Week” and Snuff Kill and Dead Girls for our month-long slasher-horror blow out for October. (Nope, we didn’t forget Blood Cult and Spine, already reviewed ’em!) Then, there’s my upcoming October review for the (not really starring) John Doe flick, 1997’s Black Circle Boys.

Now, if you know that Satanic-not-so-metal flick, you know that it’s based on inspired by the murderous, 1984 exploits of Ricky Kasso (which also, in part, fueled the scripting of 1986’s River’s Edge; a “Psychotronic Month” review is on the way later this month!). And that, in conjunction with one’s Van Bebber fandom, knows that, for his second film, he wrote, directed, and starred in one of the most unforgettable short films of all time, My Sweet Satan (1994). His loose take on David St. Clair’s 1987 expose Say You Love Satan, it tells the story of 17-year-old Ricky Kasso (Van Bebber) and the murderous exploits of the Knights of the Black Circle, which resulted in the sacrifice-death of his friend, Gary Lauwers.

Since released on DVDs available at Amazon.

Oh, and there’s the Rocktober Blood part of the equation. . . .

It’s just another one of those analog-celluloid alignment of the stars at B&S About Movies that makes all the overworked and underpaid writing worthwhile. So we noticed an unusual uptick in views for, not only for our second Rocktober Blood review-take (written in tribute to the death of Nigel Benjamin), but for our investigation of the lost sequel, Rocktober Blood 2: Billy’s Revenge, as part of our “Box Office Failures” week of reviews.

So we hit Google and Bing. Something’s up with Rocktober Blood. Why all of this sudden flurry of hits? Did Paul Zamerelli, over at the Analog Archivist on You Tube, discover something new about the film? Nope. It turns out Petar Gagic over at The Cine-Masochist on You Tube churned up the blood pool on the “No False Metal Classic” (check out our “No False Metal Week” of reviews) with an affectionate, August 14, 2020, review of Rocktober Blood.

Of course, Petar’s brain works like Paul’s, which works like Sam’s, which works like Bill Van Ryn’s, and works like mine’s: the movies just start bleeding together. So, after mentioning the controversy over the failed production of Rocktober Blood 2, Petar’s review logically dovetailed into the controversy between Synapse and Jim Van Bebber regarding the DVD reissue of Deadbeat by Dawn.

Now, if you know your underground SOV cinema, you know all about the infamous Van Bebber voice mails. And you know that the You Tube upload of those calls has long since vanished. But thee ye analog overloads inspired Petar to make a copy — which he included on the tail end (stars at 12:15, for those of you that never heard it) of his Rocktober Blood review. So, it seems, Petar inspired the denizens of the video fringe to Google n’ Bing “Rocktober Blood” once more — 35-plus years later — and they ended up at B&S About Movies.

And, with that final nail in the coffin, so to speak, the spirits from the netherworld spoke: “Ye must write a review of Deadbeat by Dawn, for it has been foretold. If ye doeth not, Jim Van Bebber will kick thou ass and leave not ye a skin cell or corpuscle to be found.”

So, hey, I do not fuck around with the netherworlds, as I have enough problems in my life. So I ye do as they commandeth. For it has been told that for every person that doeth heard of Deadbeat by Dawn, there is the one that hath not. And ye all must bow to the SOV majesty that is the work of Jim Van Bebber.

Amen. I’ve love fucking writing fucking film reviews for this fucking site!

How deep is the fandom for this film? Fans have cut music videos backed with their favorite tunes: Vegaton w/Autopsy, Suzipeach w/Helstar, theangryemonerd w/Reversal of Man, and RueMorgueDweller w/Exodus. Then there’s the clips of fan’s favorite scenes, such as the beloved “Bonecrusher,” the (epic!) “Cemetary Battle,” “Robbery (“Give me your gun, Grandma!),” “Stealing a Motorcycle,” and the fan-cut trailers. And, of course, Petar at The Cine-Masochist did his own review of the film that’s worth the ten minutes of your life.

You can stream Deadbeat at Dawn on You Tube. True Van Bebber fans can watch the film — along with his shorts My Sweet Satan, Roadkill: The Last Days of John Martin, Doper, Kata, Into the Black — in a convenient, one-stop streaming package from Shudder through Amazon Prime. It’s a well-shot, imaginative, over the top movie. Put it on your short list of films that you must watch before making your final, mightily stomps on the terra firma. Or Van Bebber will kick thou ass into oblivion.

Even truer Bebber fans — and aren’t we all — can check out this 2003 Shock Movie Massacre Interview with, wait, is that Dave Wyndorf of Monster Magnet? Nope, that’s Jim!

* Be sure to check out our four-part interview with Road House director Rowdy Herrington. And be sure to check out our reviews of River’s Edge and Black Circle Boys for our deep dive into the life of the sick f*ck that brought us here: Ricky Kasso. And we’ve recently reviewed the Kasso documentary, The Acid King.

* Click through our SOV tag to read our ever-growing list of reviews regarding shot-on-video films from their ’80s VHS-birth to the digital and phone-shot brethren of today.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

SLASHER MONTH: Fatal Images (1989)

Posted on by

Dennis Devine has been making movies since this film, turning out stuff like Dead Girls (Kay Schaber, Angela Eads, and Brian Chin from that film, star here), Fat Planet, Vampires of Sorority Row, and, most recently, Camp Blood 8: Revelations. For this one, a serial killer kills himself, but not before he seals his soul into a camera. And what if, by pure happenstance, that camera sends up being sold to a young girl and all of her friends start dying? Why, we’d have a slasher, would we not?

This movie has a character that wears her pajamas under her clothes all day long because it saves time at night. It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic, which you would not expect to arrive within an SOV slasher made 31 years ago. Yet here we are.

A hair metal band plays in a field, everyone has on comfy sweaters and someone’s arm gets ripped off. There are worse things you could be doing with your time, to be perfectly honest. Devil worshipper photographers bonded forever to their cameras, emerging to murder everyone they see? It’s basically a feel-good picture. What helps this along is the effects that come courtesy of the iconic Gabe Bartalos, who worked on Dead Girls, as well as Frankenhooker, Spookies, Brain Damage, and the Fright Night, Basket Case, Leprechaun, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre and, Gremlins.

You can watch Fatal Images on YouTube. And be sure to join us for our “Drive-In Friday” tribute to the works of Dennis Devine.

SLASHER MONTH: Video Violence (1987)

Posted on by

Writer and director Gary Cohen was working in a video store and noticed that no one was renting any of the classic films that he loved. They were all renting slashers.

One day, a mother asked him if I Dismember Mama had any sex in it. He told her that it didn’t, but it had plenty of graphic violence. She told him that if it didn’t have sex, it was find for her kids. This scene is in the movie, except they are discussing the movie Blood Cult.

Steve and Rachel have just moved to a new town, setting up a mom and pop rental shop that seems to exclusively rent out slashers. One of their customers — probably Howard and Eli, whose sports store seems to be a front for mayhem — accidentally returns a video tape of one of their murders, which soon reveals that everyone in this sleepy little SOV town is a killer.

If you look closely on this box, it has J.R. Bob Dobbs of the Church of the Subgenius on it, claiming that he has approved this movie. Your tolerance for SOV horror will determine how much you like this yourself. You can watch it on You Tube and enjoy a documentary on its making, also on You Tube. As result of the content, the trailer is age-restricted, so log into your account to view.

Slasher Month: Camp Blood 8 (2020)

Posted on by

And you thought the Amityville Universe and Demons sequels and sidequels system was off the rails: we dared explored those Xerox’d realms with our “Exploring: So What’s Up with All of the Demons Sequels” and “Exploring: Amityville.” Oh, and our newly-uploaded “Ouija Boards” flicks tribute. And now it’s time to delve into the twisted, clown-haunted woods of the Camp BloodVerse.

Dig that retro VHS category sticker

And you have me, R.D Francis, to thank for it . . . no, really . . . I think this one is Sam’s fault, since he came up with a “Rock ‘n’ Roll Week II” . . . but, well, I did pick Dennis Devine’s second direct-to-video feature, Dead Girls (1989), to review during that theme week. So that brings us to Mr. Divine’s newest, 30th directing effort, Camp Blood 8: Revelations.

Yes, you heard me right: that’s not a parody title. There actually were seven Camp Blood films prior. So, strap on the popcorn bucket, as there’s lots to unpack.

It all starts with a then budding, fifteen-year-old writer and director by the name of Brad Sykes who started capturing his Virginia Beach, Virginia, Kayo syrup n’ red food coloring romps on a Hi-8 camera. Then he went off to Boston University where he graduated cum laude and double-timed with Paramount and Tony Scott’s Scott Free Productions. He eventually ended up in Los Angeles and incorporated Nightfall Pictures which, to date, has built a twenty-six film resume.

And it all began with his 1999 feature film debut, Camp Blood.

Now, if you know your ’80s slasher flicks, you know we have a maniac in the woods and — based on the legends about a boiler suit n’ clown mask-adorned killer stalking the woods — the smart ass teens christened the kiddie vacay spot Camp Blackwood as you-know-what. And, with that, let slip the clowns of war with a soon-to-be twenty-two year run of sequels. And the shenanigans at ol’ Camp Blackwood are so off the rails that it’s also dragged shot on digital video-PowerPoint purveyor Mark Polonia (Amityville Deathhouse, Amityville Exorcism, Empire of the Apes) into its twistyverse.

So, the rundown:

  • Camp Blood 2 (2000) — directed by Brad Skyes (Plot: A meta film-within-a-film romp as a film is made about the murders of the first film.)
  • Within the Woods, aka Camp Blood 3 (2005) — directed by Brad Sykes (Plot: A sidequal; Is the clown really back, or is it a prank?)
  • Camp Blood 3, aka Camp Blood First Slaughter (2014) — directed by Mark Polonia (Plot: Actually 4th in the series; a prequel about dopey college students going into the woods on a class assignment to debunk the legend.)
  • Camp Blood 4 (2016) — directed by Dustin Ferguson (Plot: Dopey college kids camp out in the infamous woods on their way to a rock concert; Raven survives.)
  • Camp Blood 5 (2016) — directed by Dustin Ferguson, who is back in the AmityvilleVerse with 2021’s Amityville in the Hood and working on 5G Zombies with John R. Walker of Ouijageist. (Plot: Raven, the lone survivor of Part 4, returns to the woods to destroy the Camp Blood Killer.)
  • Camp Blood 666 (2016) — directed by Ted Moehring, of the 2010 backyard Giallo Bloodbath in the House of Knives. (Plot: A girl heads into the woods to search for her brother who joined a Satanic Clown Cult; meanwhile, the dead Camp Blood Killer is back from hell for revenge.)
  • Camp Blood 7, aka It Kills (2017) — directed by Mark Polonia (Plot: Dopey fall breakers break down in the woods.)
  • The Ghost of Camp Blood (2018) — directed by Mark Polonia (Plot: While 9th in the series, it’s actually a sidequel/spin-off; the spirit of the Camp Blood Killer is on the loose from beyond the grave.)
  • Camp Blood 8: Revelations (2020) — directed by Dennis Devine (Actually film #10, got that?)
  • Camp Blood 9: The Fall of Camp Blood (2021) — a fan film directed by short film purveyor Riley Lorden, who gained notice for his fan shorts of Halloween and Friday the 13th, in his feature-length film debut (Plot: From the looks of the theatrical one-sheet, its a Jason vs. Clown, Jr. romp.)

So, to recap: Camp Blood was followed by seven official sequels, one official spin-off, aka Ghost of Camp Blood, and one unofficial film, aka Within the Woods. But 4, 5, 6, 7, Ghost, Revelations, and the upcoming Fall to do not follow the timeline from Within the Woods. Got that? Are you as confused as you were with James Cullen Bressack’s JenniferVerse, which recently released its latest sequel-sidequal For Jennifer (2020), ’cause that ain’t headlice or dandruff yer scratchin’, son. That be films rattlin’ ’round the cranium.

But seriously, folks: As with Demons and Amityville, and House (remember how House II: The Second Story became La Casa 6 in Europe), aren’t we just slapping “Camp Blood” on any summer camp slasher that flows down the digital gateways? And now, the Mexican folklore of La Llorona* — absconded by The Conjuring series of films as its sixth installment, aka, The Curse of La Llorona, is heading into ubiquitous sequels territory.

Anyway, back to Camp Blood.

Now, according to the “legend” set forth in The Ghost of Camp Blood, the infamous Blackwood Forest was haunted by the vengeful spirit of the Camp Blood Killer . . . from beyond the grave. But the clown-masked killer was vanquished when the haunted mask was destroyed. But the original clown from Camp Blood 5, who died, actually has a son who took up the mask and machete from ol’ pop. And Clown, Jr. has an overbearing and sexually-twisted mommy. (Remember now: in 6, it was Clown, Sr.’s ghost and not a “real” clown killer.)

And that gets us up to speed for Double D’s contribution with four bikini-clad volley ball players and their coach (as only Dennis Devine can film them) on the way to a VB tornament in Utah. Of course they take the usual they-shouldn’t-have shortcut (Duh!) and, wouldn’t ya’ know, their brand spankin’ new, red Mercedes Benz breaks down. And they go looking for help. And they find a cabin where there’s some mommy n’ son incest of the Charles Kaufman’s Mother’s Day variety goin’ on. Yep. The girls go head-to-head and limb-to-limb with Clown, Jr. and crazy mommy.

Oh, the twist: Helping the girls is a friendly ghost of the Casper variety that — of course! — has a psychic link with one of the girls. And if you’re a regular visitor to the Blackwood Forest, you notice You Tube star and now indie horror regular Shawn C. Phillips, who appeared in Camp Blood 4 and 5, is back as a hermit-survivalist, and the Thatcher character from Brad Sykes’s Camp Blood 1 (Joe Haggerty of Dennis Devine’s go-to writer Steve Jarvis’s 1993 film Flesh Merchant) is back as his crazy-ass, usual self spewin’ doom ‘n gloom to the cast.

Everything — as is the case with direct-to-video homage to slashers of future past — is played for the cheeky camp; however, unlike those Carpenter knock-offs of future past, Devine has forgone practical, in-camera kills n’ splatter for CGI effects that comes in the form of a throat slice and three chest stabs-by-machete, a decap-by-axe, a mad mommy strangulation, and a good ol’ fashioned head-to-the-tree bashing. And while we are reasonable watchers and take into account we are in the ultra-low-budget backwoods of Carpenterville — less about $340,000 of Carp’s reported 350 k budget for his 1978 game changer — its looks pretty weak. A digital Tom Savini this is not.

But you know what? I don’t care. It’s a Dennis Devine picture and he’s been giving me quality entertainment since I purchased Dead Girls via mail order all those years ago. And it feels like the ol’ SOV-VHS ’80s all over again. And it’s good to be home.

Speaking of out-of-control and off-the-rails franchises: Dennis Devine has entered the La LloronaVerse as well, with The Haunting of La Llorona (2019). And again: the mysteries of the Blackwood Forest ain’t done yet: Camp Blood 9: The Fall of Camp Blood is currently in production. You can learn more about CB 9 at their official Facebook page.

Camp Blood 8: Revelations recently made its free-with-ads stream debut on TubiTv. We’re pretty much booked up with slasher flicks for October, so we probably won’t get to review it in time, but you can check out Devine’s The Haunting of La Llorona on TubiTv.

UPDATE: November 2021

You can now get all of the Camp Blood movies
in one convenient box set from Makeflix/Sterling Entertainment.

* Check out our reviews for the earlier La Llorona series of films with La Llorona 1933, 1960, and 1991, and La Verdadera Historia De La Llorona (2006).

You can also catch up with last October’s “Slasher Month” with a complete list of all the reviewed films, Top Ten Lists, and feature articles about the genre.

We also get into the history and birth of the Slashers of the ’80s with our “Exploring: Giallo” featurette, which also features links to all of the films we reviewed last June as part of our “Giallo Month.”

And, finally, be sure to join us for our recent “Drive-In Friday” tribute to the works of Dennis Devine.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies and publishes on Medium.

SLASHER MONTH: Blood Lake (1987)

Posted on by

All hail AGFA — and Bleeding Skull — for seeking out the forgotten slasher and making the unknown known. A movie about a beer and drug-besotten vacation made by people on just such a vacation, shot on video so it looks like 1987 because, well, it is 1987. It’s almost shocking that this movie doesn’t document the real murders of some teens and wasn’t sold as some piece of metafiction.

It also has long and repeated shots of people sleeping.

A supernatural slasher in cowboy boots and a rose-decorated shirt — Joe Bob, is that you? — is on the prowl, but all these kids want to do is shotgun cans of Busch and awkwardly paw at one another when they’re not racing waverunners all over some crappy lake in Oklahoma.

I read someone’s review that mentioned “problematic dialogue.” Please consider, before you watch this, that when you were drunk as fuck in 1987 and named Lil’ Tony that the last thing on your brain — all the blood was certainly in the other head — was conforming to the morals of 33 years into a far-flung hellscape of a future.

Director Tim Boggs would go on to do sound design on all manner of movies and TV shows. He’s still working to this day. Doug Barry, who wrote, produced and played Mike, would sadly never make another movie (he did act in 2004’s Street Creatures). As for the band Voyager, who is featured on the soundtrack, I can’t really think of a better artist to go with this, kind of like tomato juice with all that crappy beer.

You can watch this on Tubi or get the AGFA release from Diabolik DVD.

Slasher Month: Dead Girls (1989)

Posted on by

Back in the early ’90s, when it came to SOV productions released direct-to-VHS, writer-director Dennis Devine (2020’s Camp Blood 8 and 2019’s The Haunting of La Llorona) was a name you could trust to give you the goods. Problem was, his stuff was impossible to find on video store shelves—surely not at a Blockbuster, but shockingly, not at many, if any, mom ‘n pops. As was the case with most of the ‘80s-’90s SOV canons—even after Christopher Lewis, with Blood Cult, proved you could successfully distribute movies shot direct on 3/4” tape direct to retail-rental outlets—you had to buy Devine’s works via mail order via ads in the back of Famous Monsters. (Well, not Famous Monsters; that was a bit too slick, as I recall. But it was one of those pulpy, black & white horror mags from back in the day.)

Ah, the dot-matrix cover tucked behind the plastic-sleeved clamshell I remember. Our thanks to critcononline.com for preserving it.

So, being a sucker for and a collector of rock ‘n’ roll-oriented films of any genre—including horror—and the fact that all of the pulpy, underground critics raved about Dead Girls—I sent in my little grocery store money order to Something Weird Video (I think it was them; it was one of the those mail-order film studios-distributors). And as is the case with most, if not all, Dennis Devine productions (several of which I picked up over time; to date, he’s directed 31 and wrote 23 films), Dead Girls was a pretty decent flick that lent to replays over succeeding Halloweens. That is, until—as is the case with all mail-order film studios procuring low-grade VHS tapes in multi-packed, shrink-wrapped bricks and churning out copies via high-speed dubbing machines—my copy of Dead Girls caught a bad case of the molds. (And the mold grew . . . and spread to and took out Alice Cooper’s Monster Dog cataloged next to it; why that cataloging? I don’t recall the reasoning that paired the two. I think I was just messy-lazy in my alphabettin’.)

If only Dow came up with a video tape cleaner!

So, why am I waxing nostalgically sad over an admittedly obscure ‘80s (well, ’90s) SOV? Well, we have to blame Sammy P, B&S About Movies Chief Cook and Bottle Washer (again, I am just the fry cook, grease bit scrubber, and dumpster pad cleaner around ‘ere) for reviewing ALL of the Scream movies (in one week; the last week of August/first week of September) and yeath proclaiming all review slots for the month of October be forth dedicated to Slasher Movies—so say we all (moan) from under our cloak and cowls (and fedoras, hee hee). And since fans of the horror blockbuster Scream, which itself is a mock-slasher parody-homage, will recognize the plotline similarity to Dead Girls, which was completed several years prior to the later, 1996 Wes Craven hit, we’re reviewing it. So thanks, Mr. P! (For the uninitiated: Scream had deaths according to horror movies; Dead Girls had kills by songs.)

Yeah, I love it when the analog stars align at B&S About Movies and inspire a review. I wonder if Dennis Devine will drop us a pissy note in our “Feedback” section, decrying us for “how dare” we review their masterpieceshite without “permission” forthwith. . . . Nah, Double D’s not a maniacal, “Oscar bound” auteur. And his stuff isn’t shite. Oops, I’m getting pissy and off point, again. DOWN BOY! Good boy. . . . (Sorry, I’m letting those thin-skinned, self-financed via Kickstarer “next Tarantinos” of the digital age get to me.)

Who da frack are these girls? That’s not Diana, Angela Eads, Kay, and Angela Scaglione . . . wait, is it? Curse you, art department!

The retail-rental slipcase reissue that I don’t remember/courtesy of 112 Video via Paul Zamerelli of VHS Collector.com.

So, anyway . . . the Dead Girls are a female death metal band . . . but their low-grade rock is neither “death” nor “metal” and reminds of the Cycle Sluts from Hell . . . remember CSFH’s freak, ‘90s metal-parody hit “I Wish You Were a Beer” . . . and its members Queen Vixen, She-Fire of Ice, Honey 1%’er, and Venus Penis Crusher . . . only the Dead Girls aren’t that good . . . where’s Gord Kirchin’s gag-studio project Piledriver (music newly featured in Girls Just Want to Have Blood) when you need ‘em?

Anyway, I digress . . . the Dead Girls come complete with the “evil aliases” of—an idea that, I bet Brian Warner, aka Marilyn Manson, swiped (just kiddin’ Manson, had to work your aliases-band into the review)—Lucy Lethal, Randy Rot (the male “pussy” of the group on drums; brother of lead singer Ms. Lethal), Bertha Beirut, Nancy Napalm and Cindi Slain. Their collective shticks, which we learn through journalistic expositional babble (ugh): Cindi Slain (aka ex-magician-illusionist Susie Striker) is into self-eviseration, Bertha Beirut likes to strangle herself on stage with the American flag, and Nancy Nepalm is the para-military “Lemmy” of the group; a “weapons expert” who adorns herself in camo and “live” ammo-bullet belts and jaggling explosives as she slings a custom “machine gun guitar” (on loan from mid-’80s Alice Cooper guitarist Kane Roberts).

Of course, “death rock” is “on the way out” (don’t tell that to King Diamond and Cronos of Venom), with their manager urging them into a more “commercial” Into the Pandemonium-to-Cold Lake Celtic Frost fuckover as he sends the girls into the “Cherry Orchards” (no pun intended, I swear!) and be the friggin’ the Go-Go’s with friggin’ Wall of Voodoo covers. Do you remember when the record executives eviscerated Motley Crue’s collective gunny sacks and went from Shout at the Devil bondage leathers to day-glow the Bangles biker pastels, stopped singing about Satan and gave us songs about girls and friggin’ motorcycles and doctors and “going home” ad nauseam, ala Poison? Yeah, like that . . . all the world needs another “Clowns,” by golly! Or maybe we’ll get lucky and Artie the manager (Brian Chin, who became a voice actor then became an animation storyboard artist) will turn them into Vixen and rock us with “Edge of a Broken Heart” or Lita Ford with “Kiss Me Deadly,” perhaps? Nah, Artie’s a dipshite who thinks touring the warzones of Russian-occupied Yugoslavia is a smart career move.

Kane Roberts; courtesy of Floyd Rose.com/Celtic Frost; Metal Addicts.com.

As was the case with the dippy-dopey Champaign, Illinois, new-wave poppers the Names not finding any success until they transformed themselves into a low-rent Kiss-cum-Phantom of the friggin’ Opera (not) “metal” band the Clowns slicing up mannequins in Terror on Tour (Am I the only one who remembers “Lonely” and the Queensryche-ish album Transcendence from the phantom half-masked Crimson Glory hailing from the metal wilds of Tampa, Florida?), the gals of the Dead Girls weren’t finding much success with their dippy-dopey, new-wave synth-droning, so they went (not) death “metal,” complete with images of death that were devised as a marketing gimmick to sell records—no one was supposed to take them seriously, so says lead lyricist, sweet Gina Verilli, aka Bertha Beirut. (Now, I know this is sexist, but I got those boilin’ hormones—actress Diana Karanikas (as Gina) is the most heart weeping, prefect mix of “hot” and “cute” to ever bless the screen. And she friggin’ quit the biz after this film. Heartbreaking. Also quitting, after doing Things II for Devine: Angela Eads as Dana/Lucy Lethal; is it just me, or does she look like the perpetual Lifetime damsel-in-distress Alexandra Paul of Christine fame? Just sayin’.)

Anyway, the (coke) mirror, that is, “image” cracks when a group of teenagers, led by Gina’s sister Brooke (sexy/creepy Ilene B. Singer in her only film role; why did everyone quit the biz after this movie) commit a mass suicide to the soundtrack of the Dead Girls. Uh, oh. Career over? Nay, it’s time to hop into the Mystery Machine, Shaggy! We need recuperate Sam Raimi-style in the not-so Norwegian Wood. (Speaking of the Beatles . . . and death rock, did you ever hear Coroner’s cover of the Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” well, you just did.)

Hmmmm . . . seems someone in the Dead Girls band camp paid attention to the James Vance and Ray Belknap Judas Priest “subliminal suicides” of 1986 (which became an hour-long PBS segment, Dream Deceivers in 1992) and the three Ozzy Osbourne heavy metal suicide trials of 1985 to 1990. (Dream Deceivers is on You Tube; you can find Ozzy trial clips HERE and HERE.)

Anyway . . . yeppers, it’s more dopey rockers of the Blood Tracks and Monster Dog variety driving right into the mayhem as they head off to a secluded country retreat for rest and relaxation—and for Gina to take care of her sole-surviving sister, much to the chagrin of her bible thumpin’ aunt who cared for them after their parents died in a car crash. (That’s gratitude; Auntie takes you in, gives you room and board; you form a death metal band in spite; while little sis has metal posters on the walls.) Oh, and get this: Gina has E.S.P abilities, so she foresees all this coming . . . but still goes to the wooden retreat (fuck, not Spine, again?) . . . where, in a Friday the 13th twist, a psychotic fan—cloaked in a black cape, fedora, and skull mask (the “Scream” part) goes “Billy Eye Harper” and unfurls the Rocktober Blood, murdering managers, boyfriends, fans, and musicians in short order, using the lyrics as a “how to” guide.

Although the script indicates lyrics to songs such as “Drown Your Sorrows,” “Nail Gun Murders,” “Hangman,” “Angel of Death” and “You’ve Got to Kill Yourself,” none of the songs appear in the film, nor does the band perform on screen. So, while we’re denied the “death metal,” what sets this Devine production heads and shoulders heads above most (well, all other) SOVs is that make-up wizard Gabe Bartolos, who also worked on the Basket Case and Leprechaun film series, handles the special effects and gives us a film that is as fun as—and significantly better than, but not as revered as, the rock ‘n’ horror, “No False Metal” classics that are Rock ‘n’ Roll Nightmare and Shock ‘Em Dead. All in all, Devine’s go-to scribe, Steve Jarvis (Things II and a dozen other Devine productions), gives us decent film noirish twists, double crosses, dream-within-dream fuck yous, floppin’ red herrings (bitchy aunts, pussy-whipped uncles, creepy preachers in need of an eyebrow trim, Christian ex-boyfriends, mentally-challenged caretakers, Yugoslavian reporters, graduates from the Josef Mengele School of Nursing, pseudo-lesbian uber fans, beefcake bodyguards, Ms. Lethal and Mr. Rot are into incest and bondage), and you-didn’t-see-that-coming moments to keep you entertained.

Now, remember in our review of Spine, when I mentioned a fellow con-freak discussion where I “learned” that star Janus Blythe was “in the running” for the Janet-role on ABC-TV’s Three’s Company and “lost out” on the part of Lynn Starling in Rocktober Blood? Well, in a con-conversation about Dead Girls: I also “learned” that the reason you never heard from any of these actresses ever again—sans one, maybe two, Dennis Devine flicks—is that all of these actresses were actually incognito adult film stars, you know, like Michelle Bauer (Beverly Hills Vamp! Witch Academy! Evil Toons! Sorority Babes in the Slime Bowl-o-Rama!), who aka’d as adult star Pia Snow, and Linnea Quigley, who aka’d as adult star Jessie Dalton (Linnea’s out with two new ones: The Good Things Devils Do and Clownado). As with the Janus Blythe rumor: I can’t confirm these assumed adult identities, if any, of the cast of Dead Girls.

And since we’re dredging up all of these old movies, let’s talk The Redeemer (aka The Redeemer: Son of Satan, aka VHS Class Reunion Massacre; You Tube/trailer)*. You’ll recall that masked killer dispatched victims wearing . . . a skull mask under a cape and cowl (sans fedora). So, while horror connoisseurs call out Wes Craven for “pinching” Dead Girls, can we call out the Dennis Devine-Steve Jarvis-Gabe Bartolos collective borrowing the skull mask idea from Constantine S. Gochis (Cochis shot it in ’75 and released it in ’78, so it predates Carpenter’s Halloween)? Just sayin’.

And major kudos to the gang at The VHS Apocalypse over on You Tube for taking the time to rip those faux hard-rock ditties of the SOV-era and uploading them. Here’s the Dead Girls end-credits tune “You’re Gonna Kill Yourself” to enjoy.

And alright! You Tube comes through in the clutch! I haven’t watched Dead Girls in years (f-you, mold.) But I am now with a very nice, clean VHS-rip courtesy of The Burial Ground 5. (BG5’s got 1974’s Corpse Eaters? 1988’s Brainsucker? Yes! Now, that’s a motherf-in’ Halloween double-feature right there!)

And now . . . while we are on the subject of obscure tunes from obscure films—in this case, 1989’s Twister—that no one has heard or seen sidebar: Bless you, William Gibson You Tube, for VHS-ripping Crispin Glover’s “band” the Uncalled Four and their downer-rocker “Dance Etiquette (Daddy’s So Mean)” off the film’s end credits. But here’s the scene where it was featured. (Crispin, what in the hell did your daddy, Bruce, do to you? Just kiddin’. Let’s get a beer!)

The schlub writer sucking up for acting work sidebar: Mr. Devine, I act. And I have a reel. Could I be in one of your movies? (Did you think I wrote this review out of the goodness of my heart? Nope. Pure sucking up for acting work!)

* Be sure to join B&S About Movies, in conjunction with Drive-In Asylum, every Saturday Night at 8 PM U.S. EST with your hosts Bill Van Ryn—of Groovy Doom— and Sam Panico for the Groovy Doom Saturday Night Double-Feature Watch Party as they roll two “theme” movies every week and discuss them in a live stream/chat. They recently screened The Redeemer with Beyond the Door.

And, finally, don’t forget to visit our recent “Drive-In Friday” tribute to the works of Dennis Devine.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

2020 Scarecrow Psychotronic Challenge Day 4: Evil in the Woods (1986)

Posted on by

Day 4: Hunkered Down: One with recluses, shut-in or people locked inside their home.

And down another SOV wormhole we go, with a little bit of Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead (1981) and, at first it seems, we’re also frolicking down the kiddie-centric, orange-and-yellow candy corn road with Roy Ward Baker’s The Monster Club (1981) and Fred Dekker’s The Monster Squad (1987).

A cross between Raimi and Spielbergian horror? What in the Sam Hell are you on about now, Mr. Francis?

Courtesy of Critical Condition, aka critcononline.com.

Well, look at the ol’ cardboard slipcase artwork. You got the word “Evil” and “Wood” in the title—and a ghoul is reading a book. And that ain’t Hervé Jean-Pierre Villechaize (Come on, dude, Tattoo? Remember?) lookin’ up over that library counter. Ah, should we also blame Wolfgang Petersen for making The NeverEnding Story (1984)?

Nah, there’s no way Wolfie could have known that his English-language film debut would lead to the “spooky” tales of the “Wild-Eye Southern Boys” of Mildew, Georgia.

Noah “Boxey” Hathaway? No, that’s Brian Abent in his only acting role as Billy Hanes.

So, what’s Evil in the Woods all about? And is the book due back on “Friday the 13th,” as well? Yes, as a matter of fact, it is! (Yuk! Yuk!)

But, first . . . how we got here. . . .

“Oh, shite. R.D’s going off the rails on another non sequitur, tangent-strewn frolic,” face squinches Drive-In Asylum‘s Bill Van Ryn. “Can’t you get your writing staff under control, Sam?”

“Just let him be, Bill,” surrenders Sam Panico, B&S About Movies’ proprietor. “I’ll go take a piss. You get the sandwiches ready. By the time our bladders are empty and our stomachs are full, he’ll be done.”

“Ahem,” throat clears R.D. “I’m standing right friggin’ here!”

Anyway, Sam ye by proclaimed, henceforth, that all reviews slots for the month of October would be dedicated to slasher (and, since I break all of the journalism rules, horror) films. And I had Evil in the Woods on my SOV “must reviews” short list, next in line after Curse of the Blue Lights (reviewed for “Vampire Week” that ran September 6 through 12). And I have this savant thing with film credits (and album liner notes). I can’t remember mathematic formulas or load-bearing charts, but . . . anyway, it’s my curse (that Sam puts to good use, so it’s not all in vain). So, during research for my review of the Atlanta, Georgia-shot Those Who Deserve to Die by Kino International’s Bret Wood, I learned of his developing work in the burgeoning field of podcast dramas—and his most recent, iHeartMedia podcast drama, “Mercury: A Broadcast of Hope,” stars local Atlanta (now adult) actress Jennifer Bates.

No, it can’t be. There’s a “Jennifer Bates” starring as little Alieen Pierson in the Atlanta-shot Evil in the Woods. . . .

My pubescent training ground: I kicked ass in this board game based on the ’70s NBC-TV daytime game show/courtesy of boardgamegeek.com.

So, that’s that story. That’s just how the analog-celluloid stars align at B&S About Movies.

“Wow, that actually wasn’t so bad, R.D,” says Bill Van Ryn offering me a turkey-on-rye, with double mayo and mustard.

“Sam, can I have an RC Cola, please.”

“I’ll get Becca right on that. But is an A&W okay?”

And now, back to the movie. . . .

So. . . little Billy Hanes checks out the lone copy of the historical “story book,” Evil in the Woods from his local library. He immediately takes the book home and, as he begins to read . . . anthology movie alert . . . anthology movie alert (well, sorta-kinda) . . . he enters the strange world of Mildew, Georgia (yes, as in the stuff you attack with Dow Scrubbing Bubbles . . . and no, there is no such place, we got Google over here!).

Scrubbing out evil, one spore at a time!

And Billy learns the tale of a low-budget film crew in the year of 1956, as they travel into the Southern wilds of Mildew, Georgia, to shoot their sci-fi horror schlock-a-piece, Bigfoot vs. The Space Killers. And wouldn’t you know it: the Cormanites stumble into Wes Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes (wooded, not desert) enclave of an evil witch and her cannibalistic family (aka hunkered down recluses and shut-ins, ahem, Scarecrow overloards) who overlord rural monsters driven by a 3,030 year-old force (do the “666” multiples math) . . . that goes by the name of Ida! (Insert snickers, here). Yes, beware of Ida! Where’s Abby when you her? Seriously? Ida?

So, what we have here—regardless of the ominous music and wooded National Geographic photography of the (effective) opening credits (seen below in sans of a trailer)—not an ominous Raimi romp, but a spoof of low budget “B” movies that is going for “camp classic” status—with awful acting, scripting, props, and cinematography that is either “on purpose” to make it “look bad” and become a cult classic—or a film with awful acting, scripting, props, and cinematography that is so rife with ineptitude that it fails in achieving camp classic status.

And, since we are dealing with a Spielbergian kid reading and telling us “the story” (via a goofy narrator’s voice; I guess Vincent Price was busy filming 1987’s The Whales of August with Bette Davis and Lillian Gish), there’s no “Raimi,” since the film is devoid of sex, swearing, violence, and nudity. But we do get rubbery Spirit Halloween SFX (but, truth be told, some of the “non-violent” low-budget gore isn’t that bad), a scruffy throw rug sasquatch, a rotten corpse, a burnt arm, midgets, aliens and, again, the witch and her cannibal offspring who, I might add: kidnap a kid who runs off into the woods from his camper parents, and he ends boiled into a youth elixir. Oh, and the town sheriff—as is always the case with these backwoods horrors (see Equinox)—is in on the take, so no one ever escapes Ida’s wrath. Oh, and since the book is cursed—yep, you guessed it, the librarian is also in on it—little Billy Hanes turns into a ghoul after he’s done with the book!

Yeah, the curse of Ida is a gift that just keeps on giving with a book that just keeps on adding “chapters.” So much for the Spielbergian Baker-Dekker-Petersen criticisms. To say this SOV’er is completely out-of-left-field, bat-shite, everything-and-the-kitchen sink, crazy-ass bonkers is an understatement. Oh, William J. Oates, how ye wish you wrote and directed another movie.

And, what we want to know, Mr. Oates: Is this a Christian horror movie? Our sources can’t confirm it, but as someone who’s attended his share of “Christian Haunted Houses” at the local fire ‘n brimstone Baptist watering hole of my youth, it sure seems as such. In my kid and teendom, never ever once did I meet a “funny” pastor or bible teacher who could tickle a funny bone with their lame attempts at humor to make the bible palpable to young ears. For there’s nothing worse than a pastor or bible teacher—with an acoustic guitar and a wife who vocal-cracks hunchbacked accompaniment over 88 keys—who sings parody songs about why the Sadducees “were sad.” And, when he offers guitar lessons, teaches you how to play friggin’ “Baby Beluga” and “Michael Rode the Boat Ashore.” (You’d rather a Tobin Bell torture-porn sessions on all accounts, trust me.)

And, what is with all the child abuse-neglect in the films I watched this week? First, it’s Juliet Mills’s utter parental failure of leaving two kids in an open convertible while she goes food shopping in Beyond the Door (1974) (screened a couple weeks ago via another Drive-In Asylum Saturday Night Double Feature Watch Party, thanks Bill!). Now, we have a backpacked-kid wandering the big city streets. I mean, a latchkey kid is sad enough (Queen Crab), but this kid wandering about downtown Atlanta is outright upsetting—goofy, kiddie synth-rock be damned.

What did Billy do to deserve to be turned into a monster-ghoul at the end? As far as I can tell, poor Billy is a latchkey kid whose parents are M.I.A and he has no siblings to pick him up from school (or, if he does, they don’t care and pick on him), so, to fight the loneliness, Billy hides out at the local book repository until dinner time—that is, assuming, his either career-driven parents, divorced-waitress mom, or drunk n’ stoned mom and abusive step-dad are even around to make him dinner.

Poor kid. You didn’t deserve this life or fate, little Billy. You probably get stuck straw-slurping Campbell’s Pea Soup out of can for dinner like little Ken Barrett in Beyond the Door and have to befriend crustaceans like little Melissa in Brett Piper’s Queen Crab.

Ugh. Another You Tube-posted trailer bites the dust.

Amazingly, of all of the “lost” films out there that are not available for streaming or issued on DVD* . . . Evil in the Woods can be, for the low cost of $2.99, courtesy of Full Moon Entertainment on Amazon Prime. And, I would like to extend my formal apologies to our readers in the United Kingdom for this U.S. crapula being offered in your country via Amazon Prime U.K. (You’ve been warned, mate.) And yes, Full Moon also offers it as a DVD—sans a commentary track, which would have really been appreciated, as we’d love to know more about the five-Ws behind this SOV lost boy from the mind of the M.I.A auteur that is William J. Oates.

We, bow to you, Mr. Oates. We bow.

* Be sure to check out our “Ten Movies That Were Never Released on DVD” featurette.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

Slasher Month: Snuff Kill, aka Screen Kill (1997)

Posted on by

Announcement: On October 20, 2020, SRC Cinema — the reissues studio that gives you “Awesome underground movies you need to see, now!” — announced their acquiring Snuff Kill from Doug Ulrich for a Blu-ray release, complete in an all-new capture from the original SVHS master that’s also filled with new extras. First rolling out in a limited-edition, the Blu went into a wider release in later-2021. You can read the press release on their site. You can also visit the studio on Facebook.

Don’t forget: American Genre Film Archive released Darkest Soul on Blu-ray in 2020 as part of their Blu-ray release of Scary Tales.

Meanwhile: Vinegar Syndrome issued their own Blu-ray of Scary Tales. There are no Blus — but we are hopeful — for Ulrich’s 7 Sins of the Vampire, but DVDs of that title abound at Amazon and Walmart — yes, at Wallyworld! — for the taking.

So, once again — as with Calamity of Snakes, Delirium, and UFO: Target Earth — we review a bygone and forgotten VHS oddity just for the hell of it — and we come to discover its receiving a hard digital reissue. We really need to keep ourselves in the loop, more.

This is the one time when the grainy, washed-out, 3/4″ tape production values of SOV films works to the advantage of its subject matter, in this case: a grimy, underground snuff film. And this film wastes no time in getting to the “snuff”: a woman tied and blindfolded to a chair has a knife’s tip navigate her body — then she’s repeatly stabbed. And we haven’t even got to the hung-by-the-ankles head explosion, the torso-leg separation by chainsaw, and the not-so-garden variety decapitation. This isn’t a film for the weak: it’s bloody, the nudity is bountiful, and the psychobabble as to the “why” is plot piffle. (And, as I recall, there’s a bit of coprophilia involved; if not in this film, it was one of the Shock-o-Rama banner’s other titles. So, you’ve been warned.)

Yeah, Snuff Kill has already exceeded the sleaze and gore shock content of the Holy Grail of the SOV/Big Box plains, Spine, which was made with the sole purpose of taking John Carpenter’s Halloween to its next grimy, logical step — and failed.

But not Snuff Kill, baby.

The original VHS cover I remember.

It’s dark. It’s mean. This film tricks you — courtesy of its lack of the usual SOV camp — into believing you’re watching “real kills” and not Karo-n-food colored special effects. Are there acting and production faux pas? Are some of the SFXs a bit off-the-mark? Sure. This is a zero-budgeted SOV, after all. But for what is, essentially, a bunch of high school friends getting together on the weekends to make a movie, it’s a commendable effort.

The “uncut” VHS reissue I don’t remember. Kevin Smith’s Clerks, anyone?

The noirish tailspin of Doug, a struggling filmmaker who settles as a struggling wedding videographer, begins when, instead of going to the movies to see a horror flick, his squeeze decides they should go to metal concert. And Doug, loving both horror flicks and metal, does as his lady doth request (you know, just another pussy-whipped, bloody-metal lover like myself and Sam, the B&S Movies boss).

Doug comes to realize that the band he and his wife just watched — its members adorned in monk habits who slit their throats on stage — is fronted by his old high school buddy, Ralis (writer-director Al Dargo). And Ralis enlists his old camera-totin’ friend to make the ultimate gore flick scored with the music of his band. Doug (the not bad Mark Williams in his only film role) is, at first, fascinated by the “realistic” gore that Ralis creates; he soon comes to realize the “kills” are real. Of course, as with any film noir protagonist, Doug is repulsed and fascinated his friend’s exploits and becomes his reluctant, murdering accomplice.

Sigh. Thanks for the memories of the good ‘ol days of hitting the ol’ mom-and-pop video store sandwiched between a quickie market and Punjabi eatery with a gym on the corner bay next door to an insurance agency; a dinky-cheesy outlet stocked with way too many titles under the Shock-O-Rama banner (the owner was stocking the shelves more for himself than his clientele, obviously). The label also distributed Doug Ulrich and Al Dargo’s first two SOV entries: the even harder-to-find (than Snuff Kill) Scary Tales (1993) and Darkest Souls (1994) (as of October 2021, we’ve since reviewed both).The music of the film is provided by (very cool-named) Thee Enigma Jar and Doug and Al’s band Surefire.

Yeah! There’s an age-restricted, sign-in upload on You Tube for Snuff Kill! And bless the analog lords, ye uploader loves their SOV horror! There’s several SOV titles on the Letterboxd Funtime TY page that will interest you, along with Doug Ulrich and Al Dargo’s debut feature, Scary Tales. Yes! This is going to be one awesome October, baby!

Trailers/Clips for Screen Kill: we found two, HERE and HERE.

From the I Did Not Know that Files: Doug and Al returned in 2013 with another SOV blood-boiler, 7 Sins of the Vampire, copies of which you can purchase through Amazon and Best Buy (here’s a clip).

Need more SOVs? During the last two weeks of January 2023, we rolled out another, all “SOV Week” of reviews. Be sure to click through on the SOV tag at the end of this review to populate our ever-growing catalog of SOV films (including a second take on the Screen Kill version). You’ll also discover other SOVs namedropped within our other Ulrich-Dargo reviews via these clickable images, below.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

2020 Scarecrow Psychotronic Challenge Day 2: The Last Slumber Party (1988)

Posted on by

DAY 2. SLUMBER PARTY: Watch one with a sleepover in it.

If you’re going to watch a slumber party, why not one that promises to be the final one?

I mean, just listen to this sell copy: “The plot is twisted inside out, leaving you stunned and clinging to your chair as you witness shock after horrifying shock. The ending will leave you breathless. And now, the blood flows like wine.”

Six popular teens and a science nerd plan on spending three months of partying when a parent goes away, but said parent is also a doctor who was planning on lobotomizing a mental patient who has stolen a scalpal and headed to get some pre-emptive payback. Steve Tyler wrote, directed and stars in this and it’s the only movie where not one, but two maniacs in scrubs wipe out teenagers.

It’s also among the worst movies I’ve ever seen, which seems like an astounding effort after the double digit Jess Franco movies that I’ve put myself through.

Also the killer’s name is Mr. Randles, which does not randle off the tongue quite like Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers.

This is a movie that has three endings while also being shot on video and film at the very same time. No, it’s not going for a mixed media effect. It’s just inept, which makes me kind of love it in the way you fall for the biggest charity case in the dog pound. But man, it does have a nice poster.

You may be astounded by the sheer volume of anti-homosexual slurs in this movie. And guess what — the ones saying it are supposed to be the heroes! And then there’s the dream sequence which has nothing to do with anything else before or after that seems like it could be one of the many endings to this movie.

This movie makes Terror at Tenkiller look like Tenebre. And that, my friends, is a real feat.

You can watch the Rifftrax version of this on Tubi. Bring all the alcohol and drugs you have to survive this last slumber event or perhaps just watch Slumber Party Massacre II. The movie comes and goes from You Tube, but here’s non-age restricted sign-ins HERE and HERE.

Curse of the Blue Lights (1988)

Posted on by

Editor’s Note: Starting in 2021, we’ve since reviewed several more regional Colorado-shot films. We’ll get to those films, later, in this review.

Okay. I know I’m stretching the “Vampire Week” theme with this SOV ghoul bash, but after reviewing the fellow SOV, “legit” vampire flicks Jugular Wine (1994) and Tainted (1998) . . . for me, these three films just go together, as result of them appearing alongside each other on the shelves of my local 10,001 Monster Video—the one regional mini-chain brave enough to carry Larry Buchanan’s Doors boondoggle Down on Us, the GG Allin document Hated, and the entire line of ’80s mail-order SOVs.

Other SOVs to Enjoy

Say what you will about the production values and thespin’ skills of those shot-on and edited-on 3/4-inch video ditties of the ’80s, but dear lord, my analog nostalgia for those lo-res n’ audio-buzzing, Big Box/SOV celluloid tragedies—from Boardinghouse (1982) to Sledgehammer (1983), from Truth or Dare and Spine (1986) to 555 (1988), from Things (1989) to Gorgasm (1990)—and the granddaddy of the first SOV distributed exclusively via home video shelves (in lieu of mail order, as were the other SOVs noted), Blood Cult (1985)—is unbound. Oh, and we can’t forget Blődaren (1983), Copperhead (1983), and Black Devil Doll from Hell (1984). What’s that? Yeah, we have reviews coming up in October for Evil in the Woods (1986), Dead Girls (1989) and Snuff Kill (1997). Yeah, one day we’ll get to Addicted to Murder (1995), Bloodletting (1997), and The Vicious Sweet (1997). No, we already did Spookies (1986), as you will read, below. The twist to SOV films: Not all were shot-on-video. Some that are critically lumped in the SOV category were shot on 16 mm and released on video, and if it’s released in a direct-to-video format for exclusive, off-the-beaten Blockbuster Video distribution at mom ‘n pop video stores, then it’s an SOV. Got it?

I love them! So, yeah. We are throwin’ the B&S About Movies management binder into the office alley dumpster out back. Screw you, Sam, and your Sheldon Cooper-clauses and subsections tomfoolery. I hear ye dub these graveyard ghouls—vampires! And this an SOV!

Loadin’ Up Curse of the Blue Lights

Over the years SOV fans have dropped the word “Lovecraftian,” and there’s surely a Cthulhuian vibe in these analog proceedings. But don’t mistake this third and final directing effort by John Henry Johnson and the lone writing effort for Bryan Sisson for the premier H.P. Lovecraft “adaptations” by Stewart Gordon of Re-Animator (1985) and From Beyond (1986). And, more accurately, in relation to Curse of the Blue Lights, Gordon’s Dagon (2001)—if you know your Lovecraft flicks, you’ll pick up on that critical analogy.

I’ve had discussions with fellow VHS-heads who draw a throughline from Blue Lights to Eugenie Joseph’s 1986 tale about a sorcerer sacrificing young travels to sustain his dead wife, (in the aforementioned-linked) Spookies. In a past discussion with Sam about this movie, he mentioned, more timely-accurate, one of his personal favs, Neon Maniacs (1986). And while I don’t totally disagree with either assessment: I still say that Spookies, while a weaker (but a fun film), is of a higher quality—and Neon Maniacs even higher than Spookies. (Others mention the even-harder-to-find The Vineyard, but that actually dates two years later, from 1989.)

Me? In terms of filmmaking quality, I liken Blue Lights to Ed Wood’s surreal Orgy of the Dead (1965), with its horror-erotica tale about a young couple stranded-trapped in a ghoul-infected cemetery after a car accident. My analog cortex also loads up VHS-cells of León Klimovsky’s dripping-with-atmosphere The Vampires Night Orgy (1972), concerned with a busload of Spanish tourists stranded in an off-the-map, churchless town. But again, Paul Naschy protégé Klimovsky is by far the superior film.

Now, the Lovecraft is certainly there, but did Ed Wood’s or Klimovsky’s tales inspire John Henry Johnson and Bryan Sisson, as well? I’ll say yes, because, it’s obvious team Johnson-Sisson is cut from the same spindle of 3/4-inch tape as you and I: they known their horror films. I see traces of One Dark Night (1982) in the living dead-zoms, and Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead courtesy of all the face n’ head meltings. And there’s a definite attempt at a some Dan O’Bannon celluloid stank of the Return of the Living Dead variety.

But something is missing. It doesn’t have that Raimi spark or Don Coscarelli charm. Why did Phantasm, itself a self-financed film employing amateurs and aspiring professionals, rage across the duplexs in the summer of 1979 to gross $12 million on a $300,000 budget, while Curse of the Blue Lights, with the same self-financing and employment ethics, floundered into home video obscurity? If Coscarelli helmed it . . . if Clu Gulager and James Karen were there to help The Mystery Machine gang . . . would this story—complete with Michael Spatola’s snazzy SFXs still in place. . . .

What if, indeed.

Instead we have a higher-budgeted Al Adamson flick, think 1967’s Blood of Dracula’s Castle, crossed with Bob Clark’s pre-Porky’s, pretty fun Romero-knockoff, Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things. And that’s not a bad thing. . . .

The Review

So . . . the glow of “blue light” is discovered in the wooded distance near the “Blue Light” necking point on the outskirts of podunk Dudley (not another road sign with a cow skull, ugh) by a group of (annoying) teens (who deserve to be squeezed into ghoul juice for being pains in my VHS-viewing ass). Oh, and the lights and something called the Muldoon Man are part of the town’s local color, because, well, all towns in Hicksville, U.S.A. need to have a local legend for adolescent scoffing.

The lights lead our Ed Woodian 90210-brats to a (shot in Pueblo) Colorado cemetery where underground-dwelling ghouls are pullin’ a Tall Man and Phantasm-robbing the graves above in a plot to create a serum (see, they need “fluids” like vampires!) that will resurrect the Muldoon Man: a giant lizard-man missing link (a very impressive, full-suited in-camera effect). Resurrected scarecrows (the best part of film, as if it was spliced in from another film), disappearing body-statues, disembodied-petrified hands, hysterical-histrionic thespin’, cursed trinket medallions, sheriffs that don’t act like proper law enforcement officers, overacting-folklore Blair witches, time-lasped melting candles, Al Adamson-chained-to-wall crypt chickee-dees, sword vs. axe battles, lots of backgroud-zoms tearin’ up the joint, and (lots) of melting ghouls, ensues.

Are the Gothic sets of the Spirit Halloween variety? Would Konstantin Stanislavski pull a Karl Raymarseivich Raymar (know your acting history and One Dark Night trivia, buddy) and slaughter the cast for soiling the art form he invented? Are the up-against-the-budget special effects (by Michael Spatola; his later credits include HBO’s Tales from the Crypt, Stargate, and Terminator 2: Judgment Day; his earlier work was featured in Hunter’s Blood) impressive? Is the film too long at an hour and a half? An 80-minute home-video appropriate cut would have helped making this a bit more zippy and palpable?

Yes, to all questions.

But, as long as you keep in mind this is a self-financed backyarder of the fun Don Dohler variety (Nightbeast) (well, actully better than a Dohler flick) and appreciate that everyone behind and, especially, in front of the camera is trying, you’ll have fun with this lesser-known baller in the SOV-’80s canons. (Yeah, we know it was shot on 16 mm, but it feels oh-so-SOV . . . and we love it. But, if it was shot on 35 mm . . . oh, shut the hell up, Devil’s Advocate.)

Yes! The Legends are Real!

As it turns out, Curse of the Blue Lights isn’t just the goofy, screenwriting imaginations of regional filmmaker John Henry Johnson. For his freshman and sophomore projects, Johnson mined Colorado/Southwestern history: Damon’s Runyon’s Pueblo (1981), a semi-documentary based on the famed writer’s life in Colorado, while Burgess Meredith narrated the same with Zebulon Pike and the Blue Mountain (1984) about the army Lieutenant known for his Southwest expeditions: it’s how Pike’s Peak got its name.

Yes. Johnson’s horror opus is also based upon Colorado rural folklore: In Pueblo, there really is, well, we’ll let John Henry Johnson tell you (from his website):

“I know quite a lot about Colorado history and Southern Colorado lore in particular. I used two elements as [the film’s] basis: In the late 1800s, the so called ‘missing link’ [of man] was said to have been found and was pitched as such by P.T Barnum. Found near Muldoon Hill, southwest of Pueblo, it was the so called ‘Muldoon Man.’ Secondly, west of Pueblo, [there] was a teenage parking area known as ‘Blue Lights’ where kids parking would supposedly see mysterious, unexplained blue lights in the nearby river bottom.

“[So], I combined these elements into what would become a feature film [first and only]. Teenagers as they are bound to do in such films, accidentally become involved with the underworld when they interrupt the ghoul king Loath and his henchmen as he attempts to bring Muldoon Man back to life.”

As for the Muldoon Man: The legend is real. The “man” is a hoax. The creature was said to be a prehistoric petrified human body—a “missing link”—discovered in 1877 by skilled huckster William Conant at a spot now known as Muldoon Hill, near Beulah, Colorado. Cotant successfully toured his find across the United States before it was revealed to be a hoax: an early SFX amalgam of clay, plaster, mortar, and rock dust, along with animal bones, blood and meat. You’d think that after Conant duped everyone with his “Cardiff Giant” hoax from several years earlier, carnival goers would have known better.

Beware! The Curse of the Digital Caveats:

Those who want this in their physical media collection, take note. The original VHS tapes are the uncut R-version. The Magnum-Code Red DVDs, while a HiDef master created from the original 16mm film elements (that includes an audio commentary track with director John Henry Johnson and actor Brett Ritter), the DVD is not the “original uncensored version.” The DVD is the cut R-rated version missing about three-minutes (a graphic scene where the Muldoon betrays and crushes the demon-snake lord’s face, in particular). The overall quality is grainy (that’s how the original film was shot-processed), but the digital transfer is clearer than the VHS original. (Besides, the occasional emulsion scratch lends to the film’s early ’70s drive-in charm). So, to see the uncut film: you’ll need to watch the VHS. Got it?

However, in any form, do watch this: it’s a nostalgic-retro monster mash.

So, You Wanna Join the Analog “Mile High” Club?

There’s more Colorado-shot films to enjoy with The Jar, Manchurian Avenger, Mind Killer, Night Vision, and The Spirits of Jupiter.

You can catch up with John Henry Johnson at his official website. Yes, as with Russell Kern, who reached out to us regarding our review of The Spirits of Jupiter: Johnson is still in the business as an academic in art and film in Colorado. In May 2022, he sat down with James Bartolo of The Pueblo Chieftain to discuss his career. There’s also more local legends to be had—the Lights of the Sliver Cliff Cemetery, in particular—at Colorado Urban Legends.com.

You can watch the trailer on You Tube, then watch a pretty clean rip of Curse of the Blue Lights on You Tube . . . and not a VHS rip, but a DVD one. Bonus: We found the Polish-Hungarian version on You Tube—which retains some of the Muldoon head squeezing. Geeze. In the midst of all the head meltings . . . what’s the problem with the head crushing and cutting that particular scene from the film, Mr. Distributors?

We be-bopped through the rural blue lights, again, with a new take in June 2022 as part of our annual “Junesploitation Month” of reviews. Yes. By hook, crook, or Muldoon Man: we will make YOU watch this F-in movie!

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.