HIDE AND GO SHRIEK (1988)

THE CARD:

Scott Kubay, Sean Kanan, Donna Baltron, Scott Fults, Ria Pavia, Bunky Jones, Brittain Frey, Judy Ramteize, and Mikey the Misleading MacGuffin.

Please Note: Not Olly-Olly-Oxen-Spoiler-Free!

THE ANGLE: 

Summer, 1988. A masked killer stalks the streets in search of easy prey.

Also, the latest G.I. Joes.

Meanwhile, high school is over. A group of bored white teens in Reagan’s America want to go nuts, have some fun, and cut-loose-footloose or whatever the hell kids did back then. The gals prepare for their big night out by hanging out in my sister’s room.

"And he wears that mask, like, everywhere! GRODY!!!"

While the guys engage in gleeful homoerotic shenanigans. 

"One day, our kids will call this bro-something!"

So the gang plans a night out of raising Hell, adult beverages consumption, and the losing of their virginity and virdignity in a dark and depressing furniture warehouse.

JUST LIKE WE DID IN THE 80S! WOOOOO!!!

Meanwhile, a creepy loading dock worker who the owner allows to sleep in the warehouse gradually becomes aware of the horny devilishness and randy goings-on happening elsewhere in the building.  

"But first, I gotta work out my stranglin' hand."

So the teens decide to up the ante on the evening’s tomfoolery and start a game of hide and seek in the warehouse that’s filled with the eeriest mannequins this side of Kim Cattrall.

Unfortunately, this is not the only wooden performance in this movie. Thank you! Thank you!

And soon the maniac who lurks in the shadows hunts the coitus-engaged teens and picks them off by various means such as:

Bathroom sink drowning.

Elevator decapitation.

And staring directly into this guy's chest. (Thank you.)

As an added bonus, the killer likes to dress up like his victims post-kill. 

"I just murdered Tim Curry!"

In the end, the surviving members of the humpy-pumpy massacre discover the haunting link between who they thought was the killer (creepy warehouse guy) and the real killer.  And it’s perhaps one of the most unsettling but remarkable resolutions of any 80s slasher I have ever seen (except for Sleepaway Camp). Yeah.

"Really? That's the ending? GHAACCK!"

THE FINISHER:

Sure you can call Hide and Go Shriek just another cookie-cutter 80s slasher movie, yet another clone of other successful slashers like the seminal Halloween and Friday the 13th series with hypersexual teens and a generic psycho devoid of believable murderous ambition. Sure, go ahead. I dares ya!  But this bare bones basic and abjectly low budget movie somehow manages to be entertaining and – dare I say it – rise above its fundamental horror movie formula. First of all, the performances are worthy of note. The kids physically and verbally interact with one another naturally and with ease, almost as if they were real life friends who were oblivious to the rolling camera. This is highly unusual for a subgenre that emphasizes gore and cheap thrills over actual character development. They engage in authentic-sounding conversations with each other and not all of them end up in the sack. For example, the requisite “annoying joker” character drops his a-hole shtick when alone with his girlfriend and actually ends up respecting his her desire to hold off on sex. Yeah, it was weird, but unexpectedly appreciated. Don't get me wrong; the movie's got plenty of boobies. Plenty, my friend. Unfortunately, all this character progression is canceled out by the cringe-inducing killer plot resolution. As you may have guessed above, the loading dock creep (an ex-convict) is a red herring. The killer is revealed to be his former “prison bitch” who is still love with him and is slaughtering people to protect their life together, which in addition to making no friggin’ sense, is ridiculously and grossly homophobic. I can only surmise that the filmmakers were aiming at either "honest" or comedic commentary on relationships but the result is instead pretty gross. The producers also had the cajones to set up a sequel with the killer surviving his brutal demise. Fortunately, Hide and Go Shriek II: The Faggening did not happen.  

EL T’S HORROR MARATHON ADVICE:

Sorry, but I cannot recommend Hide and Go Shriek for a horror movie marathon unless you have folks over who are interested in watching a historical example of pop culture homophobia that falsely purported the belief that them gays are coming to slay our virgins.  (Tea Partiers: please read the opposite of the preceding sentence).

NIGHTFLYERS (1987)

THE CARD:

Catherine Mary Stewart, Matthew Praed, John Standing, Lisa Blount, Glenn Withrow, James Avery, Helene Udy, Annabel Brooks, and Michael Des Barres. 

Bonus Match: Based on a snack in between lunches by George R.R. Martin.

Please Note: In space, no one can hear SPOILERS.

THE ANGLE:

In the future, a hodgepodge group of experts including biologists, astrophysicists, and of course, psychics board a mysterious space ship to encounter something called “Volcryn”, a rare cosmic event that ends up being just a hula-hoop on fire (this spoils nothing).  The ship is called Nightflyer and is so awesome and futuristic, you’ll want to punch Syd Mead in the face.

The Nightflyer (formerly S.S. Pottery Barn Steam Iron)

Psychics are needed because the head scientist D’Brannin (Standing) believes that Volcryn has intelligence and may be the key to finding extraterrestrial, non-hula-hoop shaped life. This team of bickering scientists is managed by Project Coordinator Miranda (the lovely Stewart) who classes up the dump with her mere presence.

Rest assured that even in the far future, the 1980s are not forgotten.

The group soon discovers that the Nightflyer does not have a crew and is controlled by a sentient hologram named Royd (Praed). Royd falls in love with Miranda and contemplates his existence and desire to leave the ship. This disturbs the crew immensely, especially the tightly wound psychic Linderman (Des Barres), because this is the future and cool futurey innovations like self-aware holograms in control of enormous space ships who pitch a virtual tent for a honey are not to be trusted in the future.

Unless it's at Coachella.

So more bickering and a lot of blah-blah-blah about the objectives of the mission ensue.  Whittling away the hours and the first two acts on the voyage to Volcryn, the Nightflyer passengers ...

Vamp in the hallways...

Sip wine and whine...

And, um, do other stuff.

But something sinister is seething within the walls of the Nightflyer, and it’s not Chef Darryl’s fried octopus platter. By the way, Chef Darryl is played by James Avery, aka Fresh Prince’s Uncle Phil.

"Yeah, Will? Can you get me out of this buuullshit?"

We discover that the Nightflyer was designed by a woman named Adara and that her spirit, or her artificial intelligence gone haywire, or something *SNORT* something is the true force behind the ship.  Feeling threatened by Royd and Miranda's burgeoning relationship, she hunts and kills each member of the team with lasers, robot arms, and gravitational compression (pending approval by Neil deGrasse Tyson). Eventually, Miranda learns that Royd is not just a hologram but an actual person who is held prisoner somewhere deep in the ship.

And he's got a nasty bout of crotch lightning.

Oh yeah, we also discover that Royd is Adara’s biological son who describes his relationship with her as a “companion and a lover”.

Goddamn you, George R. ARRRGGGHHH!

Momma Adara takes on a humanoid form and and is like a total party pooper and takes son/boyfriend to the woodshed for a talkin’ to.

"That Cersei biatch got nothing on me!"

But Royd ain't having it and so he and Miranda must confront the spirit/ghost, hologram/monster, Mom/thing/stuff.

"THERE CAN BE ONLY SON!"

THE FINISHER:

Nightflyers is a weird movie. It’s slow, confusing, and flat.  I’m sure the original book by George R.R. Martin spends more time expanding on its themes of artificial intelligence, extraterrestrial life, and banging good ole Mom, but this adaptation falls flat and feels incomplete. The movie's inconsistent tone and muddled plot points suggest a troubled production and a difficult adaptation of the original material. The first half seems endless and padded with relentless scenes of gibberish and unnecessary exposition and a generous helping of overacting. But Nightflyers hints at bigger ambition as it is influenced by ideas and visuals from preceding films 2001: A Space Odyssey, Blade Runner, and Alien.  Some of the movie’s more interesting elements presages future films like Event Horizon (possession and cosmic terror) and Prometheus (robot surgery and nonsense).  It wants to be a big science fiction romance about a couple whose love is spurned by Mom who just happens to be a huge fricking space ship. The end result is cheeseball sci-fi with failed attempts at horror that most of the time look like 80s perfume commercials and Air Supply videos.

"We made this movie ... out of nothing at all."

Nightflyers’ good points are its nostalgic video-age feel and brave New Wave aesthetic combined with the presence of the underrated Catherine Mary Stewart, star of 80s classics Night of the Comet and The Last Starfighter.  I would only recommend the film if you are space horror and/or Stewart and/or Uncle Phil completist.

EL T’S HORROR MARATHON ADVICE:

If you’re doing a Halloween marathon, I would schedule this film early in the evening and possibly with the sound low so the old timers you invited can ogle the short hairdos, floral print blouses, and other 80s oddities. Also, it’s not very scary.  That is, unless, outer space incest is scary.

WITHOUT WARNING (1980)

THE CARD: 

Jack Palance, Martin Landau, Tarah Nutter, Christopher S. Nelson, Lynn Theel, Cameron Mitchell, Neville Brand, David Caruso, Larry Storch, Darby Hinton, and Kevin Peter Predator Harry Alien Hall. 

Bonus Match: Dean Cundey cinematography.

Please Note: Here, there be SPOILERS.

THE ANGLE: 

A hunter (Mitchell) wanders the woods and tries to either man-up his hippy son Randy (Hinton) with some hunting or murder him.  Seriously, he points the rifle at the guy’s head when he’s not looking and fantasizes about blowing it off.  Ah, 70s parenting.  Unfortunately, before the attaining of masculinity through skinning skewy wabbits can begin, the old man gets offed by a bloodsucking flying pancake.

Easy on the pus syrup, please.

And soon flower-power Randy ends up an alien pancake breakfast as well.

Daddy didn't love my lazy eye-hole!

Deadly creatures who can attack at will and suck the live out of you are infesting the lake.  What do we do? Get laid, of course!  Sorta-kinda teens Greg (Nelson), his buddy Tom (Caruso), Tom’s squeeze Beth (Theel) and sweetie pie Sandy (Nutter) decide to hit the lake and hop into an airtight junky serial killer vehicle which in those days were known as “vans”.  And yes, seriously it’s that David Caruso in an early role.

DISCLAIMER: No sunglasses were dramatically removed in the making of this film.

They stop for gas at the perfunctory rural creepy gas station where they are treated to a perfectly normal and pleasant encounter and conversation with locals Sarge (Landau) and Joe (Palance) who are normal and do not do un-normal things at all.  

See? Normal.

Perfectly, um, normal.

Bugged-eyed and close to tears, Joe warns them about the dangers at the lake and urges them not to go. They take his advice thoughtfully and cautiously with the utmost concern for one another’s safety.  Once they arrive at the lake, Tom and Beth get to bangin’, while the awkward Greg gets to know the pretty and soft Sandy.  Meanwhile, a Scout Leader (Storch) hikes around the lake with his rowdy and sarcastic Cub Scout troop.

They all received an "F". (Thank you! Thank you!)

So yeah then Storch gets a toothy flying omelet up the keister and suddenly Sandy and Greg can’t find Tom and Beth, that is until they stumble across their bodies strung up like beef hides in a nearby shack.

Ready to tenderize!

There is cause for concern. So our young heroes rush back to the creepy gas station which is now a creepy bar where the locals gape in disbelief at their story.  Well, except for Joe and Sarge.  

And he'll have to explain those pants. (Thank you!)

Loony Sarge thinks it’s an alien invasion and that Sandy and Greg are part of the conspiracy.  Joe is more grounded in his whiskey-soaked presumptions.  He merely believes that there is something out there hunting people down and that it is using the gut-sucking flesh Frisbees to paralyze its prey.  And he knows how to stop them and it.

Believe it, or ... well, you know.

It’s 1980.  There are no cell phones, Lyft cabs, #HolyShitAliens hashtags, or Abrams computer lens-flares to help.  Hell, Men At Work won’t break out in the states for another year.  So it’s up to crazy hobo Sarge, vaguely Matthew Star-ish Greg, likeable twist-knot-top-attired Sandy, and the very normal Joe to stand up to the menace from the stars that came … hence the title. 

All I can tell you is that the line “Push the plunger, Sandy!” will haunt you.

THE FINISHER:

Probably all you need to know about director Greydon Clark (Uninvited) and Without Warning can be found in his tellingly-titled book On the Cheap which I am plugging here for no reason.  Really.  I’ve been wanting to watch Without Warning since I saw the trailer at the drive-in back in the days when you didn’t need to use Wikipedia to look up “drive-in”.  (Seriously, if you don’t know what a drive-in is, why are you even reading this?  Also, you can read?).  I kid.  The trailer scared the baby luchador crap of out me. Check out the trailer here.  Cool, huh?  Why don’t they make trailers like that anymore?  Why are there no more drive-ins?  What is Wikipedia?  Forgive an old man.  Like most of director Clark’s horror movies, Without Warning runs a tad over 100 minutes, has a creepy atmosphere provided by 80s ubiquitous cinematographer Cundey (Back to the Futures), but unfortunately is padded with slow-paced scenes.  The gore is standard to pretty good but doesn't exceed beyond the frightful sight of burnt cinnamon buns oozing boogers.  But what’s very much remarkable about the movie is the cast.  Firstly, it features the Olivier of monster actors, he late great Kevin Peter Hall who portrays the creature who controls the killer flying bloodsuckers like an outer space ninja. Here’s a shot of the man in action:

ACTING!

Hall would go on to play Harry from Harry and the Hendersons, the title character in Monster in the Closet, and, of course, Predators in both Predator and Predator II. Then you have the team of Landau and Palance who ham it up like Karloff and Lugosi only without the mutual hatred or threats of sniffing shit. They would next team up in the remarkable Jack Sholder movie Alone in the Dark (1982) with Donald Pleasance and Dwight Schultz of A-Team fame. Please see that one as well.  The movie also features a cast of stars from a range of my favorite movies including Theel (Humanoids from the Deep), Ralph Meeker (Paths of Glory), and Neville Brand (Riot in Cell Block 11). By the way, you can see Without Warning for free here.  Oh wait, that is the 1994 CBS TV about a fake newscast about meteor heading for Earth which was shown on Halloween night that year. You can see that one, but I think you will have more fun watching Greydon Clark’s Without Warning, which I did. 

EL T’S HORROR MARATHON ADVICE:

If you’re doing a Halloween marathon, I would schedule this one in the middle, especially if you have hungry sleepyheads with short attention spans over.  The long stretches of padded scenes will allow your guests to get up and stretch themselves.  Also, serve pancakes with butterscotch pudding and raspberry jam.

You'll know why.

DREAMANIAC (1986)

THE CARD:

Thomas “No Other Credits” Bern, Kim “Loads of Porn” McKamy, Sylvia Summers, Lauren “Saturday the 14th Strikes Back” Peterson, Cynthia Crass, and Michael “Not The Hills Street Blues One” Warren. 

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Adam (Thomas Bern) is a Def Leppard fan who has a randy girlfriend (McKamy, who later became porn star Ashlyn Gere and who's probably the best actress in this movie), writes heavy metal songs, smokes pot, and watches Godzilla movies.  So far he’s every dude I know.  He also has an unhealthy interest in the black arts and experiments with occult practices which give him nightmares, visions of blood-soaked violence, and an attic infected with seductive female ghosts.  

Time to call Orkin.

His girlfriend Pat urges him to get out more often and actually interact with people.  So she asks him to help throw a party for her sister Jodi (Peterson) who’s trying to impress bitchy rich girl Frances (Crass) to get her into a sorority. The party guests arrive in a parade of 80s archetypes including Awkward Valley Girl, Feather-Haired Stud Turd, and …

Ahhhh!  The Devil!

Oh, it’s just Goofball 80s Guy.  AHHHHHH!  GOOFBALL 80S GUY!!!!

During the party, we’re treated to such immortal lines such as “Mondo bad planning, Jody.  Jeez!”, “AB Positive, that’s my favorite type! (AWKWARD PAUSE). I’m Pre-Med.”, and my fave “I don’t know much about heavy metal. I mean, I’m into Lionel Ritchie.” Meanwhile, Adam continues to be plagued by visions of the ghost woman and in the hopes that she will bring him the success in shitty songwriting he so desires, he performs a ritual to give her new life.

Also, a napkin.

But Adam isn't prepared for the fatal truth that Ghost Girl is actually a succubus, a female demon with a hunger for human flesh and suffering.

And artsy fartsy poses.

Lily the Succubus (Summers) crashes the party with hunky jerk Ace (Warren) and proceeds to smoke the party guests, decorate the walls with brains, and spike the punch with terror.

How not to start a career in party planning.

In the aftermath, Pat and Jodi are last ones standing and must face the horror of an unstoppable she-demon and the wrath of a crazed hair metal fan!

"Where’s my Pyromania LP?!!!"

THE FINISHER:

Director David DeCoteau, a protégé of B-movie legends Roger Corman and Richard Band, is a “friend” of mine on Facebook.  I’m not sure if he reads his news feed, monitors posts, tags, or mentions of himself, or even realizes he has an FB account, but I worry that he’ll read this measly review of his early effort Dreamaniac.  Beyond personal favorites Dr. Alien and Nightmare Sisters, I’m not well-versed in his filmography but I do know he continually demonstrates his productivity with a long line of director credits spanning a career of over twenty years.  And I feel bad trashing one of his works as he’s one of the most entertaining contributors to Joe Dante’s wonderful Trailers from Hell website.  But since you are the only person who reads this blog, I feel safe.  Hinting at a Freddy Krueger-esque outing with a poster that promises a Clint Howard appearance as a dream killer (see above), Dreamaniac is a shot-on-video piece of poop drenched in the stink of terrible acting, horrendously delivered jokes, high-school drama class sound design, and a total lack of suspense, gore, or coherence.  Whew, got that out.  But, there may be a silver lining somewhere beneath the torn script pages, non-functioning microphones, and razor-blades dusty with coke. DeCoteau breaks some ground here with a generous helping of male nudity and homo-eroticism  something rare to virtually unheard of in 80s teen horror flicks, hell, even now.  I’m not saying wieners and white butts saved the movie but we do see here the director’s brave early effort to create a space in horror for other audiences.  But any groundbreaking is soon shot to shit by a terrible, seemingly tacked-on ending that puts Dreamaniac into Jacob’s Ladder territory where we discover that somewhere down the line, the movie’s original title may have been Succubus.  Well, they got the “suc” part right.

I’m ready for your unfriending, Mr. DeCoteau.

THE BRAIN (1988)

THE CARD:

Tom “Twice Dead” Bresnahan, Cynthia “Pin” Preston, David “Re-Animator” Gale, and the pissy-est Madball you’ve ever seen.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Dr. Blake (Gale) hosts the hottest talk show in the history of whatever city this movie is set and is also the head of the Psychological Research Institute (PRI), a loony bin which is hitting great strides making the loony less loony.  Every parent in town stops what they’re doing to tune in to Independent Thinking where Blake spouts an endless tirade of 80s New Age nonsense.

Look out, Steve Gelder!

Unfortunately, the ratings aren't the only thing that’s sky-high in this burg.  An increasing number of gruesome murders and suicides are plaguing the city as teens are killing folks and themselves after experiencing hallucinations of bursting tentacles from bedroom walls, lecherous tongues seeking young cheeks to smooch, and cute toys getting upset.

Lies make Teddy Ruxpin cry.

Meanwhile, high school troublemaker James (Bresnahan) is in deep shit for exploding the school’s crappers in a prank gone awry, irking overly concerned girlfriend Janet (Preston).  The principal and his parents agree to send James to PRI for psychological treatment where, after a few interactions with the resident nutballs, he is greeted by Blake himself.  After James fails a few visual tests, Blake grows alarmingly concerned about the young man.  But he gets antsy, is freaked out by hallucinations triggered by the tests, and attempts to escape.  To his horror, he discovers Blake’s secret: a giant alien brain is sending psychic messages to humans via the TV show signal and the psych tests which are scrambling their brains!

Forget Obamacare, prepare for Cthulhucare!

James hits the road where he teams up with Janet and evades the police, Blake’s nurse goon, and every blood-soaked brain-damaged psycho in town.  Concerned with James' invulnerability to the signals, The Brain demands his capture via a sophisticated Brain-to-computer interface.

Jeepers, even evil alien brains are into the sexting thing.

As the Independent Thinking show goes national, the Brain prepares for its influence to be spread on a global scale.  That’s a lot of teen-licking.  The more people it reaches, the bigger it grows.  Its psychic tentacles begin to circle around James and Janet who infiltrate the TV studio where the national show will be broadcast and it will take immense self-control, a will of legend, and a shitload of Tylenol to stop it.

But first, a snack.

THE FINISHER:

The Brain is a largely forgotten 80s creature feature whose trailer promises wall-to-wall gore but rarely delivers.  After a fairly well-paced start with a crazy delirium–laden kill and subsequent holiday-themed suicide, a Cronenberg-ish mental hospital sequence, and an eerie, crunchy introduction to the title character, the movie loses steam in the second act which degenerates into a foot race and car chase through a rural, perpetually overcast Canadian town.  We never find out where the Brain came from, what its ultimate purpose will be, or how the hell it’s able to slither around warehouse so silently.  Campy and not so well acted, most movie fans would probably conclude that the deserves its forgotten status.  But The Brain is kind of a hidden gem, a movie that pretty much sums up why I, as a horror fan, still love to track down previously unseen movies.  It’s the little touches that count and inspire – the horny teen angst and corny rebellion, the evil psychiatrist shtick, and kill sequences crafted by a madman.  And you have Canadian horror legend David Gale hamming it fittingly and delivering a hell of a stinger early in the film.  Plus, there’s a classic era-appropriate synthesizer score by Paul Zaza whose name is impossibly cool.  “Hello, I’m Tremendo Zaza.  Oh, so you would like to go bed with me?  So do your three best friends?  Okay, I guess.” Anyway, in the end, the movie is saved by the elements mentioned above and fabulous monster design which is chillingly creepy, recalling some kind of Lovecraftian nightmare mating with an oversized Necronomicon who had just been banged by a Madball.

Smile and say hello to the folks, Brain.  “Hello folks!”

THE 31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN 2012

Coming Monday!!! Ghost Rats! Giant Heads! Redhead Loving Monsters! Murderous Vegetables Not Named Patrick!  Hell yeah, it's the 31 Days of Halloween!  Welcome, welcome.

-El T.