Mind Killer (1987) and Night Vision (1987)

The “brain breaks free of the body” romp that is Mind Killer is an SOV’er that also crosses over into regional filmmaking — two video fringe genres that’s our kind of our jam (yeah, we have a lot of those) around the B&S About Movies’ cubicle farm. Local Denver filmmaker Micheal Krueger made two of them as a writer and director: the shot back-to-back Mind Killer and Night Vision (1987).

As a writer and producer, he made his third film: the rock band vs. werewolf flick (Did he see Alice Cooper’s Monster Dog?) Lone Wolf (1988). In that same capacity, Krueger upped his game and shot in Panavision 35mm (but released in the same direct-to-video format as his previous three films), The Amityville Curse (1990). Sadly, the cinematic visions of Micheal Krueger’s mind ended at the age of 49 (of undisclosed causes) on August 27, 1990, in Denver, Colorado — where all of his films were produced and shot.

The copy on the VHS sleeve for Krueger’s first film proclaims it as “an intellectual horror film” — and that’s not just copywriter hornswogglin’. While obvious in its low-budget, the proceedings are far from the amateurism infecting most SOV’ers. Clocking in at a brisk 84 minutes (one hour twenty-four minutes), Micheal Krueger does his best with what he’s got to work with and takes the best of David Cronenberg’s Scanners (1987) and Ed Hunt’s (not released yet) The Brain (1988) — with a pinch of the classic (well, it is to the B&S crew) Fiend Without a Face (1958), and a little bit of Frank Henenlotter’s Basket Case (1982) and Brain Damage (1988) — and engages us with an introspective, but fun n’ sloppy romp. And the acting from the leads Joe McDonald and Christopher Wade (aka Wade Kelly) rises above the expected SOV thespin’ tedium norms.

Warren is a lonely library clerk addicted to self-help books and videos, particularly ones with advice on how to attract women — and he ineptly applies those teachings to the local singles bar scene with his even more awkward co-worker, Larry, and his buff roommate, Brad. Of course, Brad scores without books — and Warren creepily watches as he does — with the librarian he crushes (Shirley Ross, later of Night Vision).

Then, in the library bowels. Warren stumbles across a manuscript that he uses to develop psychic powers, which make him irresistible to women. Soon, his powers get out of control as his brain turns into a monster with a mind of its own — that bursts from his skull.

While this is more tightly edited — at 80 minutes — than the 100 minutes of Micheal Krueger’s follow up, Night Vision, as well as a bit more graphic-gooey than that latter film, the effects are cheesy-campy (but charming-to-inept amusing) and the thespin’ by most of the cast is from the stiff to the overwrought. The sound mix, in places, strains your ears deciphering the dialog. And, as with Night Visions, its all pretty uneventful until those last ten minutes — when our brain creature runs amuck, with slop and humor.

And does the ending remind you a bit of Re-Animator? Yes, and that’s not a bad thing.

And now for our second feature!

The copy on the VHS sleeve for Night Vision proclaims we will “tune into the nightmare channel and fast-forward into hell” . . . and that bit o’ copywritin’ hornswogglin’ sums up the ol’ haunted electronics plot we’ve enjoyed in the video ’80s with the likes of TerrorVision (1986; a cable satellite system), The Video Dead (1987; a portable TV set), and Remote Control (1988; possessed VHS tapes). Uh, okay. Yeah, yeah . . . and the vapid John Ritter-waster (he made so many; and you’re stuck with Pam Dawber, too) Stay Tuned (1992; a comedic, possessed cable TV hook up, or remote, or . . . I don’t care).

Unlike most SOV auteurs who vanished after one lone, in most cases, tragically inept film (that will still have its charms), Michael Krueger shows us he learned his celluloid lessons with Mind Killer. The production values on Night Vision are slicker and the acting from our leads of Stacy Carson and, as his girlfriend and fellow video store employee, Shirley Ross (from Mindkiller) are, again, above the SOV norms — but her constant gum chewing and smoking (and both at the same time) becomes annoying and ventures into a poor thespian choice (and gross); meanwhile, Carson is too old to play the naive teenager bit.

So, who’s haunted whom, here? Well, Andy Archer, a naive bumpkin from the Kansas cornfields heads into big city Denver — in lieu of his own state’s Wichita — to pursue a writing career. And the muse isn’t calling. Then he buys a stolen, portable TV and VCR from his new friend and local street hustler, Vinnie Sotto (a not bad Tony Carpenter). (Their friendship gives the film an M.C Escher meets a horror-slanted Midnight Cowboy vibe — with Carson as our naive Joe Buck and Carpenter’s Sotto as Ratzo Rizzo. There’s no evidence that was Krueger’s influence or intent, just my take on the material.)

Loaded into the VCR is a videocassette created by a group of electronic-worshiping Satanists (set up in the beginning of the film) — and the gadget — which plays back when it’s not plugged in; shocks you, pricks your finger, and oozes blood when it runs the tape (is it real or hallucination) — can also predict future murders. So our geeky Andy Archer writes short stories based on what’s on the tape — and finds success. Soon, those Satanic rituals and devil worshiping ceremonies on the tape — just as the box copy promises — fast forwards Andy into a Droste effect-type hell as murders sweep Denver — murders that Andy’s accused of, since he’s chronicled the murders in his stories and he appears on the tape as he commits the murders.

Sure, the proceedings plod along slowly, but the shots are professionally framed and the competently edited. But at one hour forty minutes, you can see an easy ten minutes trimmed. In addition, tighter writing could have easily paired Krueger’s Cronenbergian-cum-Lychian psychological thriller into a decent 80-minute film from the 100-minutes we’re watching. Again, it’s a competent effort and you’ve seen worse — far worse — from the SOV and 16mm canons. The oddity here is that Tubi offers Night Vision as an age-restricted sign-in, but there nothing here that’s the least SOV offensive-graphic (and doesn’t kick in until the last ten minutes).

You can watch Mind Killer on You Tube HERE and HERE, but the best upload is the free-with ads stream on Tubi. You can watch Night Vision on You Tube HERE, but there’s a better free-with-ads stream upload on Tubi. You can also learn more about both of these Micheal Krueger works, as well as all of the films produced in Colorado, at Colorado Film.com.

As always, our many thanks to Paul Zamarelli and his efforts to preserve the VHS artwork of these films. Visit him at VHS Collector.com and enjoy his reviews on his You Tube channel The Analog Archivist.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook.

Dead Things (1987)

Todd Sheets, who made ClownadoDreaming Purple Neon and Ouija Death Trap, amongst many other movies, made this video short very early in his career. It tells the story of a bunch of drug dealers who escape into the woods, only to find that they’ve ended up dealing with a Satantic cult who has way worse plans for them than jail.

This was remade in 2009 by the director, but this grainy cheapy has plenty of energy and an ending that made me stand up and cheer. I mean, when Satan himself gets conjured and brings some zombies with him, that’s really something for me.

In a weird way — as you’ll learn all week long — I cut Shot On Video breaks that I would never give to streaming video horror that gets released today. Maybe I’m just longing for the scuzzier look of camcorders. I don’t have any answers for you.

That said — I haven’t seen the remake, but here’s betting that I’d like this one a lot more, particularly because it’s like 25 minutes long.

Concrete Angels (1987)

This lost and obscure Canadian theatrical made its way across the U.S. boarder on VHS — sans publicity or any distribution. It’s a film I never came across by way of my multiple video memberships nor cutout bin excursions. It wasn’t until our local, dead and abandoned shopping mall transformed into an “outlet mall,” where retailers rented out a store space (well, cubicle) to sell their wares. In other words: it was an indoor swap shop.

Anyway, this older, crusty but still chatty gentleman, who was in the drive-in racket back in the day, then, when that industry dried up, he got into the home video market — but he hated running a video store. So he rented out a space and started purging his inventory. Then he got sick of that: one day I go to his canvas-fenced cubicle — and he’s gone.

So goes the story of how I got my copy of I-never-heard-of this faux-band romp that crosses Eddie and the Cruisers with American Graffiti — and uses the Beatles’ September 7, 1964, debut appearance in Toronto, their first of two concerts, at the Maple Leaf Gardens hockey area.

This isn’t the first time the history of the Beatles fueled a fictional tale. Robert Zemeckis (I love him for Used Cars, alone; the rest is gravy) scripted I Wanna Hold Your Hand (1978) around the Beatles’ historic February 8, 1964, appearance on CBS-TV’s Ed Sullivan Show. In that tale, a group of friends (headed by Nancy Allen and the Wendy Jo Sperber) scheme to meet the band.

This time, a quartet of ne’er-do-well teens from the wrong side of Toronto’s tracks form the Concrete Angels — in a plot that reminds of the earlier Brian Adams tale about a failed teen band, “Summer of ’69” — to enter a radio station’s battle of the bands contest and win the opening act slot for the Beatles’ gig. Will they win and escape their poverty or will they fall back into their juvenile acts of crime?

Fortunately, unlike Larry Buchanan’s earlier faux-Jim Morrison romp, Down on Us (1984), with its ersatz Doors, Hendrix, and Joplin tunes, first time producer and director Carlo Linconti secured the right to Beatles tunes — but only in cover tune form (“Twist and Shout,” “Money (That’s What I Want),” “I Saw Her Standing There,” “A Hard Day’s Night,” “P.S I Love You,” “Misery,” “From Me to You,” “Love Me Do,” and “She Loves You”) — as interpreted by the Canadian new-wave band Quasi Hands (their lone EP is on eBay and heard on You Tube). Other songs appearing in the film are the oldies-classics (originals/covers mix) of Chuck Berry, Little Eva, Dion, and the Shirelles. One of the Beatles’ major influences, Buddy Holly, appears — however, in a cover form — by way of the Blushing Brides (who later etched out a career as a popular Rolling Stones tribute band; you can learn more about the ‘Brides at Canadian Bands).

Do we meet the faux-Beatles as portray by actors? Nope. But Paul’s voice shows up for a quickie (phone call) as voiced by Gary Grimes (aka “Hermie” from the American Graffiti knocks Summer of ’42 and Class of ’44) — or was he duping John, I wasn’t paying that much attention.

Do the Fab covers have the vim and vigor of the Beatles? Nope. They’re the “Drab Four”; the bar band covers you’d expect from a band as you suck back an Iron Horse at your local suds dispensary.

As for the acting: Eh, the acting is okay, but nothing to write home about. Italian-Canadian actor Tony Nardi, however, in his first starring role (after a bit part in Videodrome), earned his first of five Genie Award nods (Canada’s Oscars) for his role as Sal — was he a slimy band manager, radio executive, or . . . eh, don’t care; again, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Yeah, Concrete Angels is one of those films that lends itself to one viewing (two, if you’re a smarmy critic writing for a website in Pittsburgh), and you’re done. It’s not — as with Splitz or Hail Caesar — a beauty, eh.

Carlo Linconti is still active as a producer and director. Amid his 20-plus producer credits — one was the 1974 killer bugs romp Phase IV — he’s directed fourteen films; his most recent, in-production film is the western adventure, Bordello.

As for Concrete Angels, there’s no online streams — free or pay — but the VHS copies are out there on Amazon and eBay. There’s no DVDs from what we can see, but if they are, be assured they’re grey market rips off the VHS, so emptor the caveats, ye junk cinema purveyor.

Be sure to join us for our three part “The Beatles: Influence on Film” series as we look at Concrete Angels and 33 other films dealing with the legacy of the Beatles.

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

Jane and the Lost City (1987)

Based on Norman Pett’s Jane, which ran in The Daily Mirror from December 5, 1932 to October 10, 1959. Jane is pretty much an adventurer, but she loses her clothes nearly every time she goes into action, which I guess is a very male gaze way of making her a heroine.

British Prime Minister Winston Churchill sends Jane (Kristen Hughes) and the Colonel on a mission to prevent the diamonds of the fabled Lost City from falling into the hands of Germany. As they make their way to Africa, they meet Jungle Jack Buck (Sam J. Jones, playing yet another comic strip style hero after getting to be Flash Gordon and The Spirit) and battle the evil Lola Pagola (Maud Adams) and her soldiers Heinrich, Herman and Hans (all played by Jasper Carrott).

This was directed by Terry Marcel, who also made Hawk the Slayer and Prisoners of the Lost Universe. It’s a good try, but trust me, it’s no Gwendoline.

You can watch this on Tubi.

Really Weird Tales (1987)

You have to give it to HBO. Between The Hitchhiker and Tales from the Crypt, they were keeping the horror anthology in business throughout the 80s. Really Weird Tales is made up of three episodes of a comedy version of that format with Joe Flaherty as the host.

Flaherty, a Pittsburgh local, was a major part of Second City and SCTV. Horror fans will respect him pretty much forever for his Count Floyd character, which is a loving tribute that pokes fun at the horror hosts that he grew up with, including “Chilly” Bill Cardille.

There are three stories here that all have pretty high production value. “Cursed With Charisma” is all about a mysterious stranger (John Candy) coming to save the town of Fitchville with new ideas of how to sell real estate, as well as an alien invasion. It was directed by Don McBrearty, who directed 1983’s American Nightmare and is still working, directing holiday direct-to-cable movies.

“I’ll Die Loving” has Catherine O’Hara as a woman who blows up real good every man that she falls in love with. Where the last segment felt almost too long, this one seems too short. It was directed by John Blanchard, who directed episodes of SCTV and The Kids in the Hall.

Finally, the best story is “All’s Well That Ends Strange,” which pits Martin Short as a lounge singer trying to get into the good graces of a Hefner-style publisher, win the heart of a centerfold played by Olivia d’Abo and escape with his life after he learns that all of the perfect bodies of the women in the mansion aren’t all that natural. It’s a rare horror role for Short, who is great in this episode. It was directed by Paul Lynch, who knows something about making a horror film, what with Prom Night and Humongous on his resume.

While this doesn’t always work all the time, Really Weird Tales should have had more than three episodes to find its footing.

You can get this from Kino Lorber.

Chillers (1987)

By all rights, a 1987 Troma anthology film should be the worst thing I’ve ever seen, but about midway through Chilers, I felt some level of awe. I was actually enjoying something from my least favorite studio, one that makes Full Moon look like Orson Welles before Hollywood kicked him in the dick.

Now, is it “one of the most horrifying movies ever made” as the artwork loudly screams? No. But “This is on the level of Night Train to Terror in a good way” would sell that movie to, well, an audience of me.

While waiting for their bus in a station that looks like a rec room complete with pinball machines and an Elvis tapestry, five passengers wake up from horrible nightmares and pass the time by telling one another that they had too much to dream last night.

The first story is about a swimmer who had dreams of being a star athlete but can barely qualify for the team. A diver who is coming back from an injury attempts to help her get back in form — and aardvark her in the shower along the way — before she learns all urban legend-style that her flip flopping loverboy has been dead for some time. Instead of that being the reveal — Chillers is nothing if not through — he comes back as a zombie along with everyone else who ever died in the pool, including a guy who dropped a drill into the water and someone who dove in with no water.

Up next, a scout troop hates their leader — except for one boy who is the one telling the story — but he ends up being stranger than someone who demands that everyone call him Wolf. Yes, he’s a killer and every child must pay.

The best story of the lot is about a lonely woman who can’t connect with humanity. Her only relationship is with the anchor of the 11 o’clock news, who she talks to every night through the TV. Somehow, he starts speaking back to her and better still, he ends up being a vampire. Honestly, this story could have been a movie in and out of itself, as the woman slowly gains confidence with each moment she spends amongst the undead.

Then, a young man who is obsessed with those who die young in the obituaries learns that he can bring them back from the other side, but nobody really wants to come back to our world.

Finally, a professor of anthropology decides to teach his students about a Spanish demon that ends up possessing one of his students. And then, the bus arrives, bound for Hell, with all of the villains of every story sitting next to the storytellers in an ending — before the fakeout — that really brings this all together.

Chillers isn’t great. The acting is really bad, the sets are horrible, it barely looks above being shot on video and it has all the energy of a high school play. But actually, it is great in its own way, being exactly the movie you want it to be in spite of the challenges of budget, the studio that produced it and attempting to do so much with so little.

To be perfectly honest, this is exactly the kind of movie that I love.

Director, producer and writer Daniel Boyd made this in six months while moonlighting as a college professor at West Virginia State University. He’s made a handful of movies since — Strangest Dreams: Invasion of the Space Preachers and Paradise Park along with a few documentaries — but he’s succeeded in other ways. As a U.S. Fulbright Scholar, Boyd taught the first filmmaking and screenwriting classes at the University of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania during the ’98-’99 academic year in East Africa. He followed that up by winning a 2002 Fulbright Alumni Award for his work with that university on a pilot program called TeleDrum which teaches filmmaking to American and African students while producing films for international aid organizations. Two of the films that came out of this program, Duara and Sound of the Drum, won awards.

The moment I saw a Rax cup in the background of a scene, I kind of knew that I was going to love every single moment of this movie. I’m debating a new genre of horror: bus station horror. All I have right now are The Similars and this movie, but genres have started with less.

You can watch this on YouTube.

Sexandroide (1987)

Man, this movie. I don’t know who it was made for, but it seems like the kind of person who would corner me at the drive-in or a horror convention and breathlessly inform me of its many virtues and slowly make me more and more uncomfortable.

I could tell you that this has stories, but they’re more like scenes, and they feel like Guinea Pig except they’re not well made nor do they approach art.

The first scene has a woman being killed with a voodoo doll, while the second has a goth dancer destroyed by a zombie who proceeds to slice open his own stomach. Finally, we watch a vampire girl dance — and audition the finger puppet* — to more than one Tina Turner song before jumping in a coffin with another bloodsucker.

I have to tell you, I hated the first two parts, but the end? A vampire stuck in a coffin watching a girl dance, dance, dance to “I Might Have Been Queen” and “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” That’s exactly what I wanted this movie to be.

Director Michel Ricaud mostly made adult films, which I am certain you’ll be absolutely shocked to learn after watching this. This slide of the Grand Guignol makes Bloodsucking Freaks look like Fellini, but hey, if you want to watch it and then talk it up to me in person, it’s your world.

*Also known as dialing the rotary phone, doing some finger painting with only the color pink, oiling the catcher’s mitt and pulling a Meg Ryan.

Philippine War Week: SFX Retaliator (1987)

Editor’s Note: We first reviewed this movie on July 15, 2019. While it’s more sci-fi and less Rambo, Jun Gallardo, who has made a mess of South Pacific war flicks — and recycled footage from them over and over again — fits nicely into our “Philippines War Week tribute of reviews.

Take Chris Mitchum (son of Robert, star of The Day That Time EndedFacelessBigfoot and, perhaps most astoundingly, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s Tusk).

Add a bit of Gordon Mitchell, who played Colonel Morgan in Endgame, Dr. Frankenstein in Frankenstein ’80 and Igor in Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks.

Grab a recipe for a movie already made. Let’s say, FX. Make it in the Philippines with Jun Gallardo, using the American name John Gale.

Then — and most importantly — add some Linda Blair.

Mitchum plays Steve Baker, a special effects guy who gets drawn into the theft of a million dollars when he gives Doris, a prostitute/secretary for the mob a ride. If you are wonder, “Does Linda play the hooker?” then you’ve been paying attention to her roles in the late 1980’s.

The mob is at war with another mob, with Mitchell’s character Morgan in charge of it all. Well, sooner than you can say, “I saw this already with Bryan Brown,” Steve is using his movie skills to fool the criminals.

Christine Landson (who was in two other movies, Blood Hands and Desert Warrior as Sterraz Amazon, a name which I’m going to scream out loud while I drive home tonight) is in this as Steve’s wife, who gets kidnapped by the mob. They have an amazing sex scene that has her topless while buildings blow up real good all around them, which is pretty much the main reason I loved this movie so much.

There’s also a snake that shoots bullets, a home security system that simulates a haunted house and a tank made out of plywood. The movie ends as it should, with people running around with machine guns killing everyone in sight. Is it spoiling the movie if I tell you it ends sadly, with uplifting synth, but the bad guy gets blown up with a missile? Would it upset you to know that Linda dies 48:10 in?

This cover art is better than the movie.
I wonder what other movies are in the Prestige Collection?

I assure you: SFX Retaliator is a complete piece of shit. And I loved every single frame. Watch it for yourself.

Philippine War Week: Devil’s Dynamite (1987)

Editor’s Note: This review ran on December 19, 2020. We’ve brought it back for our “Philippines War Week” tribute of films.

Look, there’s no such person as Joe Livingstone, the director of this movie. Or William Palmer, its writer. They’re both Godfrey Ho, the Hong Kong Ed Wood who made at least eighty movies from 1980 to 1990 and may have used over forty screen names, making him the Asian Aristide Massaccesi.

Ho is the master of a cut and paste style of filmmaking that challenges the notions of art and copyright clearances — or he’s a hack out to make a quick buck. He’s also famous for dropping footage of ninjas into movies even if the plot doesn’t call for it. I take issue with this: movies always call for more ninjas.

His love of the word ninjas also led to making movies that have titles like The Ninja Force, Ninja The Protector, Full Metal NinjaThe Ninja SquadThunder Ninja Kids: The Hunt for the Devil BoxerNinja Terminator, Zombie vs. Ninja, Thunder Ninja Kids in the Golden AdventureNinja Force of AssassinsNinja Knight Brothers of Blood, Ninja of the Magnificence, Ninja Powerforce, Ninja Strike ForceThe Ninja ShowdownPower of NinjitsuNinja’s Extreme WeaponsNinja’s Demon MassacreCobra vs. NinjaDeath Code: NinjaGolden Ninja InvasionRage of NinjaNinja: The BattalionEmpire of the Spiritual NinjaNinja Operation 7: Royal WarriorsNinja CommandmentsNinja In ActionNinja: American WarriorNinja Operation: Licensed to Terminate, Ninja Operation 6: Champion on Fire, Ninja Phantom Heroes, Bionic NinjaTough Ninja the Shadow WarriorTwinkle Ninja Fantasy (that’s one I gotta track down), The Blazing Ninja and probably ten movie ninja movies. Seriously, those guys are like cockroaches.

He would film footage for one movie, then re-use those shots over and over, which kind of makes him the Asian Roger Corman, but then he’d also find obscure Thai, Filipino and other Asian films, then graft them onto his movies — making him the Asian Bruno Mattei? — and then have several movies made with the budget of one, except no one can even tell where his footage begins and where the other films end.

Ho didn’t stop with stealing footage. He has no idea that music is a copyrightable thing either, so his movies are filled with all manner of sonic thievery, including songs from Miami Vice, Star TrekStar Wars, anime and even music from Wendy Carlos, Chris & Cosey, Tangerine Dream, Clan of Xymox, Vangelis and Pink Floyd.

Other than some rich musicians and the gullible film public, who gets hurt, right? Well, Richard Harrison, for one. He’d worked with Ho in the past at Shaw Brothers and made a deal to be in a few of his films. A few movies ended up being, well, a veritable onslaught of low-level ninjas films with his name above the title, which did damage to his career. Harrison was the unwilling feature actor in almost a dozen different movies, which sent him back to the United States. Yes, a guy who worked for everyone from Alfonso Brescia, Antonio Margheriti and Alberto De Martino to appearing in Bruce Lee ripoffs and Eurospy films had finally had enough.

And then, out of nowhere, Ho was making mainstream movies. Well, as mainstream as a Cynthia Rothrock film would be. After directing her in Honor and Glory and Undefeatable, he also made Laboratory of the Devil, a remake/remix/ripoff/ unauthorized sequel of The Man Behind the Sun. And then, he went back to his old tricks and used all the same footage to make a sequel to that movie, Maruta 3 … Destroy all Evidence. And then…

Somehow, this movie is 81 minutes and feels like nine hours. It’s all about Alex, who we also find out is the Shadow Warrior*, and now, he has to fight a smuggling ring who are all vampires, which as we all know, hop in China. No one at all is surprised that vampires exist. It is just matter of fact. There’s also a gambler looking to get even with the mob boss who sent him to jail, in case you get bored.

This is also somehow a sequel to Robo Vampire. Trust me, you have no reason to watch that. Or this. I mean, this movie has a silver lame suited superhero moonwalking against vampires, so really you can do whatever you want. Also, this movie makes so little sense that Robo Vampire could very well be the sequel, for all we know.

The poster is pretty awesome, though. And to be perfectly honest, I love these movies.

If you decide you can handle a director who makes Jess Franco look like Fellini, this is on Tubi.

*Shadow Warrior has the kind of costume that’s so horrible, Rat Fink A Boo Boo are both laughing at him.

Bride of Boogedy (1987)

Man, these Disney live action 80s movies prove that kids of that era were fully prepared to be assaulted by some of the most frightening imagery in movies that were intended not for adults.

Witness Bride of Boogedy, in which Mr. Boogedy is out for revenge and general store owner Tom Lynch (Eugene Levy!) is angry that the town of Lucifer Falls has taken to the Davis family.

Also: don’t do a fake seance when a real ghost — I mean, the family has seen and battled Boogedy before, so I have no idea why no one believes the kids that he is back — is around.

Somebody, somewhere should do a week of Vincent Schiavelli — who plays a gravedigger named Lazarus in this —  films. It seems as if that somebody is me.

I kind of dig that Boogedy possesses the man who was once Earl Camembert and brings an army of wax monsters to life. Sadly, they never made Son of Boogedy. I think we could definitely use a reboot of this, but I don’t think the kids of today are ready to deal with him.