April Newsletter!

Our upcoming episode features Edwin Brienen’s film Terrorama! (2001)

Current Film Obsessions

Ryan - Our Discord (please join please join) continues to inspire discovery of new and old films. This month we screened 2002’s The Count of Monte Cristo (a superb romp with above-average performances), The Heroin Busters (Fabio Testi and David Hemmings are sanctuary for many of us), and The American Friend with Bruno Ganz and Dennis Hopper.

Notable personal viewings this month: 

The Naked Civil Servant - John Hurt’s complex portrayal of Quentin Crisp in the 1975 film further adds to the irreverent and robust acting abilities he could tap into; a mixture of gut-wrenching pain, heart aches and survival in pre-WWII Britain. The broad message from the film is Crisp’s vigilance to be himself at all costs and be damned humanity that cannot accept his existence. 

The Cat (Die Katze) – Director Dominik Graf’s layered heist film is a superb example of taking a fairly ordinary plot but putting every finishing touch on small details that keep tension throughout. Radiance continues to chose titles that are beyond the pale and we hope more Graf films may be in the future (such as Neon City and Die Sieger). 

Torment (L’Enfer) – Claude Chabrol’s interpretation of writer Henri-Georges Clouzot rips into the fabric of characters pushed to their wit’s end becoming more and more alarming. Francois Cluzet as Paul has moments that are frightening, akin to the likes of DeNiro’s Max Cady. I had no idea later era Chabrol could be this cutting and vicious yet authentic in its depiction of the danger in human nature.  

Parker – Been knee deep in film festival judging (please go to the Southern Oasis Film Festival in my honor), but a few picks I can remember from being on break:

Carcinoma – This is the only Marian Dora film I plan on watching for the time being (mostly due to animal stuff I’m not a fan of). I grossed out my partner vaguely describing it and I’m surprised I liked it as much as I did. Worth watching if you like body horror of a more realistic fashion and plotting your own death via tumor.

Venus in Furs – Needed to visit Uncle Jess for the first time in a while. Did not regret drifting away to trumpet noises and erotic ventures of the mind. Also did not expect Klaus Kinski to appear (I don't learn no matter how much Euroschlock I watch) so color me happy. Honorable mention to Erotic Symphony for also being a much better film than I was expecting. Do not be surprised if you see me log more and more Franco over the coming weeks.

Blue Velvet – Have mentioned on the podcast before. I would be shocked if you didn’t know what this was, especially after David Lynch's passing earlier this year. Watched in 4K on a spring break date and it was more marvelous than it was 2 months ago. Please fill this blind spot if you haven’t already, or else I will spray for bugs in your apartment.

Snake in the Eagle's Shadow - I've been watching a lot of Jackie Chan thanks to a local screening of Rumble in the Bronx. This is easily my favorite of both his early work and 1970s kung fu as of now, and while I know many complain that Chan spends too much time being the butt of jokes, doesn't the old beggar make up for it? Or how about the kickass opening sequence? Or this scene? Never mind what happens to the cat...

Music Discoveries

Ryan - Steven Wilson’s much anticipated The Overview is everything we needed to have affirmed this year. Inspired by the cognitive change phenomena experienced when first reflection on earth during space travel, the beauty and the insignificance of our place in the galaxy is depicted in the lyrics and music. 

Destroyer’s 2025 return with Dan’s Boogie has lyrics that only the mind of Dan Bejar can drum up. Musically there’s not heroic stretching going on but his lyrics are unique, and the music simply there to support it. 

Ruby Haunt’s Blinking in the Wind album should be a fall listen in the woods, but their ho-hey-ness mixes with Belle and Sebastian comfort food to create a Sunday-spring morning necessity.

Parker –  I guess I’ve made an active effort to listen to more Boy Harsher and Mitski? I don’t keep up with my music stuff like I used to. Maybe the addition of Japanese City Pop is the most notable thing added to my “most listened” playlists – certainly not something you hear on the radio.  

Q&A 

1. What is the most imperfect/flawed film you love to repeat watch?

Parker - Most of my “comfort watches” are things I deem perfect and/or impactful to myself (A Nightmare on Elm Street, Re-Animator, Flesh for Frankenstein, Bill Hicks: Revelations, Batman: Mask of the Phantasm…).  Blood for Dracula may be my best answer to this – of course I love Udo Kier and Arno Juerging’s overacting, but I can’t stress how much I hate Joe Dallesandro’s character in it so much. Not to mention the hasty writing and mixed political signals Paul Morrissey incorporated. In the end, shirtless sick Dracula heals all.

Ryan – Uwe Schrader’s Kanakerbraut and Mau Mau, Eckhardt Schmidt’s The Gold of Love, Clue, Box of Moonlight, Nordsee Ist Mordsee. Bud Cort’s Hysterical (1983) and 1983’s parody Flicks are flawed and fun deep cut comedies worth attention.   

2. Name a film that heals the broken soul on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Parker - Sundays I’m usually catching up on class notes or watching football when it’s that time of year. Maybe something Italian? I don’t know, I nearly cried watching City of the Living Dead the other night so I’m maybe not the person to ask.

Ryan – Couldn’t be more pleased to turn on Amadeus, Moonstruck, Harvey, Riddle of Fire (listen to our episode!), or anything from the Carry On series. The battle of the important viewings on a Sunday versus the background films is ever the challenge. Music being just as important as film, the tension between each format of enjoyment can be tough to manage.

3. Underappreciated Actor/Director/Film?

Parker - No one told me Catriona McColl was the lead in all three entries of Fulci’s Gates of Hell trilogy so props for that, I’ve seen all three in recent memory to know she plays the same thing in all three, but she does a good job and has such an iconic face! And props to Wheels on Meals for being one of the more fun things I’ve seen recently – can’t watch depressing things all the time, so enter the holy trinity of Jackie Chan, Yuen Biao, and Sammo Hung.

Ryan – Guido Leontini in eurocult is a titan of poliziotteschi and drama, yet his George Kennedy-like looks and stout physique makes him a bit of a Cowardly Lion meets James Hetfield character actor. Il Piatto Plange, Brothers Till We Die, and Blonde In Black Leather are excellent starter doses of Leontini. Initially my objective was to watch all of Gordon Mitchell's films, but that became too daunting. Guido to the rescue; now I'm halfway through his filmography!

Thank you all for being patient with us as 2025 continues to bitch slap us into oblivion, we really do appreciate it! See you guys soon for Terrorama!

Parker & Ryan

Angst und Hass in der Stadt

        Shock value is all too common nowadays. How often does a scandalous headline catch your eye, begging you to read the following text? The article may not be that compelling, but the sheer nature of that strongly worded title involving potentially disturbing content begs us to read. Anyone who took a decent English class in high school should give these headlines nothing more than an eye roll; seeing that they continue to be thrown at us through television and online publications alike, someone out there is reading. This is not to speak of the horrors we have been exposed to thanks to the Internet and live news; there seems to be a numbness in our populace watching the latest footage from war zones, car crashes, and inflammatory political figures judging by the lack of reaction (or lack of response to the reaction).

        As much as I hate to admit it, I am not immune to being desensitized; one of my trademarks amongst friends is children dying in movies. Unsurprisingly, it’s not a topic often covered today in film and television; most people are reviled even hearing about it. Oddly enough, a pre-WWII film that's considered a significant landmark in the art of filmmaking deals with serial child murder in a head on way, while showing our most primitive emotion being exploited to its full extent as it compliments the rise of fascism. 

Released in 1931 just before the Nazi Regime took power, M is the perfect crossroads between several landmark genres. Following Berlin’s descent into hysteria and mob rule in the wake of multiple child disappearances, director Fritz Lang chooses to hone in on the underbelly of the city, and how they helm the vigilante chase of killer Hans Beckhert. 

        Perhaps the easiest influence to recognize would be German Expressionism; after all, it was Lang who had previously helmed Metropolis (1927). While not sharing the art deco setpieces and elaborate costuming of his earlier film, M similarly uses the exaggerated expressions of its characters and how they “paint for the back of the room”, so to speak. Unlike Metropolis before it, the film does not feature beautifully gothic faces; it contains stark yet piglike actors, with the upper class looking just as ugly as the working class. The focus of their faces remains the same through both films, using the eyes as the windows of their souls. They show the fear that has spread through the city, including the paranoia of Beckhert as he realizes he is trapped, producing the most famous image from the film.

        M’s more grounded subject matter also roots it deep within the thriller genre (which was simultaneously being pioneered by Alfred Hitchcock). This is not to say that fellow Expressionist films do not trace back to something very real; for instance, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) can be read as a dynamic between the obedient German population and the deranged leaders that have historically controlled them. While it might not take much reading to see this, Caligari is much more fantastical; M is more direct, using no metaphors for child death and hysteria. 

        If implication alone wasn’t distressing enough, Lang uses his camera to convey the unease to the audience, with jarring angles and moving shots seldom seen before. Take for instance, a slow burn sequence of a mother waiting for her child to come home, not knowing she has been kidnapped by Beckhert; the moment the mother realizes her daughter is never coming home, the camera stares down a staircase and floods in and out of focus as her name is called over and over, to no avail. Not to say that planting the camera down to the mother crying out of the window wouldn’t have been disturbing, but it wouldn’t have half the intended impact.

        Also typically absent from earlier films is audio; M was Lang’s first sound film, and considering this, he does an incredible job with the sounds (and silence) of an anxiety-ridden city. Noticeably missing is music; back then studios thought that if music were to play in the background, there needed to be a reason within the scene itself (i.e. a nearby radio or orchestra). I would imagine Lang believed this as well, and did not include any soundtrack, save for an infamous (and cinema’s first) leitmotif: Beckhert whistling Grieg’s “In the Hall of Mountain King” as he is overcome with the urge to kill. This is the feature that identifies him to a blind man, which sets into motion the central manhunt of the film. Ironically, the lyrics in the piece portray a group of trolls preparing to torture and cook the central character of the accompanying opera, a striking parallel to how the manhunt of Beckhert progresses. 

        All of these techniques prepare the audience to relate to the city trying to track the killer down. If one follows closely, however, things are not as they seem. After the girl’s abduction, the press latches onto the incident, seeming to have been following the killer’s actions closely judging by their 10,000 mark reward. As the police conduct pointless raids, the papers raise noise, and the underworld begins inciting plans to retaliate, an important question seems to be forgotten: why are we doing this? What is the goal? Surely it’s not just to rid someone you don’t like from the world, or to control the masses towards one group’s idealistic goal. One would hope a grieving mother pleading that everyone is responsible for (and complicit in) protecting the children would solidify such a cry, but alas, that’s not what the masses want to do.

        I put those events into light to compare to the political atmosphere of the time; Germany wasn’t doing great in 1931, and it was about to get a lot worse thanks to a certain political party. While M does not focus on a singular person raising hell in Berlin’s political system to bend to his needs, it does focus on multiple groups doing the same for their versions of justice, however skewed they may be. Some are flawed yet tried and true; others involve breaking an already fragile and sick man down to his core. We see the latter play out in one of the tensest climaxes ever put to celluloid. By showing this, Lang foreshadows what was to come in Germany; an easily swayed public that would bid their leaders’ demands no matter their moral compass, either unconsciously or by choice. By the time the community realizes they are complicit with the wrong, it is too late. 

        The saving grace is that Beckhert truly does commit terrible crimes; the way he is brought to justice is the questionable part. Yes, he deserves to be punished, but why should other criminals bring the death penalty upon him simply because he is deemed too evil by their standards? As Beckhert cowers and breaks down in tears about his actions, the mob cannot be stopped; it’s only when the police find the makeshift court that he is finally in the hands of the law.

Unfortunately, it seems there are many parallels between the film and the present day. A convicted criminal as our leader making all the decisions; a semi-useless law enforcement system focusing on the wrong problems until it’s nearly too late; and a mindless public willing to put their best interests aside for their leader. It seems we are past considering one’s motivations for their actions, forcing an “us or them” viewpoint requiring no thought. Bluntly put? It’s not looking hopeful for us. As someone who just participated in their first election, I feel unqualified to go on. But as someone who is also part of several groups impacted, it feels as if those leaders would love to see my head on a stick. In response, I feel it is important to cry out into the silent city of injustice.

Parker S.

Bad Cops and Pork Buns

        Genre films from Hong Kong are truly something else; they seem to have less restraint than what comes out of the western hemisphere nowadays. From the heart-driven action of Fist of Fury (1973) to the goop and black magic of The Boxer’s Omen (1983) to the slapstick gore of Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky (1991), there is something for everyone. If you know me, you know I like to be put in mental anguish while watching anything. I also have a small bias against “true crime” films, so it makes perfect sense I've become slightly obsessed with one.

        In order to talk about this film, context is needed. In 1973, a man named Huang ZiHueng murdered a man who owed him gambling debt in Hong Kong, and fled to Guangzhou for a few years, before ending up in Macau. He continued his illegal gambling habit and eventually became involved with Zheng Lin, whose family owned and operated the Eight Immortals Restaurant. Sometime in 1984, after a series of particularly high stakes bets, Zheng’s family owed Huang around 180,000 patacas (US$20,000). In order to make sure the family was able to pay the debt, they verbally agreed to hand over the restaurant mortgage to Huang if the debt wasn’t paid within the next year. However, at some point they stopped paying, and due to interest, the amount owed ballooned to 600,000 patacas (US$75,047).

        On August 4th, 1985, the Eight Immortals Restaurant closed for the night like normal. As the family was cleaning up, Huang entered the establishment and demanded 30,000 patacas of the debt he was owed, or else the business was his. Zheng refused, and Huang took one of the children hostage with a broken bottle, forcing the other members to bind and gag each other. He killed all nine family members either by strangulation or by stabbing, before luring one of Zheng’s sisters over to cover his tracks, only to kill her. He dismembered the bodies, and they were disposed of in black garbage bags dumped in the sea. The bags were eventually discovered by a swimmer on the beach, sparking an investigation, tracing back to Huang, who operated the restaurant after the murders. After his arrest, an urban legend spread that he baked the family into the restaurant’s famous pork buns, an idea popularized by the media coverage of the event.

        This is the plot of The Untold Story, released only 8 years after the original crimes. It is a film that has become notorious for how it portrays these real life events, particularly in emphasizing the potential cannibalism. The first half of the film follows the bumbling cops on the killer's trail, while the second half focuses on the sensationalism and brutalization of their suspect, eventually getting him to confess. There is plenty of screen time devoted to law enforcement figuring out this mystery, however the most memorable sequences are scenes where our suspect is front and center, as he kills anyone that snitches or calls him a fraud, which peaks police suspicion.

        Like many of my favorite films, this was a shocking first watch. There are multiple instances of extreme violence and sexual assault that will take even the most experienced viewers aback. Some notable scenes include the near onscreen butcherings of a few humans, children discovering rotting body parts, death via chopstick violation, several gags involving piss, gross shots of people eating, and the murder of a family of 7, including killing multiple children on screen. Even for the most hardened stomachs, there is something that will disgust you.

        What sets The Untold Story apart from more mean spirited Category III titles (notably Men Behind The Sun (1988)) is the added humor. This isn’t a comedy, but there are several lighter scenes and even a couple of running gags involving the Scooby Doo-esque police crew. The editing style and generally exaggerated characters also play a hand in this, softening the blow to the more disgusting sequences. Some comedic tone is lost in the second half, but the over the top performances from the supporting actors remain.

This genre mash-up initially seems odd; such an offset can put a foul taste in viewers’ mouths if unprepared. Thankfully, the directing duo of Herman Yau and Danny Lee are able to balance these seemingly mismatched tones. Yau did not have many credits to his name, however Untold Story would be the first of several cult classics he would direct, and the first film of his to become notorious for its violence. What Franco and D’Amato are to Eurocult, Yau is to Hong Kong cinema; he is known for his vast output and boundary pushing content, and would later direct the even more shocking Ebola Syndrome (1996).  To balance out the utter chaos, Lee was brought in to co-direct. Lee’s directing expertise lies mostly within crime films, the most well known of which being Dr. Lamb (1992), which he co-directed alongside Billy Tang. It bears several similarities to Untold Story in plot, but stands on its own as a more straightforward crime drama. Here, Yau and Lee perfectly mesh their styles in order to craft this bonkers satire that can best be described as having an edge.

        Another major factor in creating such a juxtaposition is the on screen performances, and this film delivers. The aforementioned Danny Lee is more prolific in his acting than his directing, and here he portrays what he does best: a cop. He also plays one in his own Dr. Lamb (coincidentally both named Lee), and the risk of going into autopilot is seemingly imminent; this is offset by his surrounding cast, particularly the killer he is trying to catch. While in Dr. Lamb Simon Yam portrays a seemingly quiet psychopath who is eventually uncovered to be a maniac, Anthony Wong gives a landmark performance as the uncompromising Wong Chi-Hang. He is wonderfully deranged every frame he is on screen, leering and unpredictable. He has enough energy and glares to scare a small child behind those thick framed glasses. This performance led Wong to win his first acting award at the Hong Kong Film Awards, giving him a career boost (perfectly timing with portraying a much more reserved villain in Hard Boiled (1992)) and cementing The Untold Story’s status as a cult classic.

        The mix of brutality and humor is typically jarring to genre fans; many feel that the addition of humorous scenes is unnecessary, and that the film should be completely serious. I disagree, and think that these goofy sequences mesh well with the perversions taking place. They allow the audience to breathe, and drive home the satirical elements of the dynamic between the criminal, the justice system, and the press. Wong should be impossible to find sympathetic, particularly in the first half of the film. However, once arrested, the viewers begin to feel sorry for him; the “bumbling” cops suddenly turn violent and refuse to extradite him for previous crimes to save face. When jailed, he is beaten by Cheung Lam’s brother and resorts to primitive survival methods. After a nasty scuffle, he is hospitalized and held hostage by the police as they induce him to confess via several days of drugs and forced sleep deprivation. Everything takes place under the press’s watchful eye, taking every chance they get to scrutinize the police. They may be the “good guys” in this situation, but does that justify their actions? And does that justify the press’s obsession with glorifying this serial killer? Under the humor, there lies a reality that all parties are rotten. Somehow, that isn’t the tragedy of the situation; it’s the self-centered attitude of the police, and how they aren’t in the least bit concerned about seeking justice for the Lam family.

        Despite it’s extreme content and harsh rating, the film was a success in Hong Kong, earning a sizable HK$15,763,018. Between the film’s popularity and the public knowledge of the real life events, sequels and unrelated adaptations have been produced. Are they any good? Maybe as standalones, but most are far cries from the film that started it all. While I found out about it due to a book about child death in film, I came to love it for the absurdity and message it carries. The unfortunate part is I may never eat pork buns again.

Parker S.

This article first appeared in Tri-Star Trash Cinema, Issue #11

Every Time I Cried This Year: Parker's Recap of 2024

It’s that time of year again! Time to talk about what I liked most out of this surprisingly nice year outside of several world events that will once again very harshly change the course of our well being. There were lots of highs and lows on my end, film-wise. Some interesting, some not so much. It was a bit of a rollercoaster to say the least! But perhaps my one of my most visited pages this year was the statistics feature on Letterboxd to track silly little numbers. It proves I'm extremely predictable.

Take my most watched actors, for example. Is there any surprise?

1. Udo Kier (36 individual films)
2. Jeffrey Combs (12)
3. Howard Vernon (8)
4. Dietrich Kuhlbrodt (8)
5. Fulvio Mingozzi (7)
   

     Jeffrey is the only American in that mix! How about directors?

1. Christoph Schlingensief (17 individual films)
2. Walerian Borowczyk (12)
3. Jess Franco (9)
4. Joe D’Amato (7)
5. Dario Argento (7)

As you can see podcast research and blindspot covering really had me down bad this year. Apparently my most watched genres were horror, comedy, and drama, and my most watched countries were the US, Italy, and Germany. Also, only 1% of my logs in total were films from 2024, probably because most of that 1% gave me a rather sour taste in my mouth.

Outside of basic statistics, I did compile a list of my favorite first time watches this year. It’s possible I rewatched these throughout the year, but I had to have seen them first in 2024. There is no ranking or order. Don't be shocked if this is the most basic list you see out of all of these.

        Eraserhead (1977): This is what hell looks like and I will not be hearing any conflicting view points at this time. Cold, industrialized, droning, and full of peculiar relationships that are nonsensical and hard to understand, Eraserhead is hit or miss amongst genre fans. It puts half its audience to sleep and terrifies the piss out of the other half, the black and white version of dread set to the tune of radiators and the world’s worst baby. Definitely one of the scariest things I saw this year, second only to finding a link to Jack Nance’s appearance in a fetish spanking video.

        Videodrome (1983): Odd to reflect on this film seeing that I genuinely like watching shock films for fun (hopefully not irreversibly damaging my brain). This is the penultimate commentary on mass media and the harm it can do to both the people consuming it and the people involved. Part of me loves how well this has aged; it can apply to not only television (which is what I assume it was targeting), but now social media, streaming services, and video games. It also applies to how stupidly attached we are to our technology, as Max Renn’s stussy and cancer gun are shown painfully attaching to him, perhaps as a punishment for perpetrating genuinely harmful media onto the masses. Cronenberg is definitely working through some things here; there is no crystal clear message or interpretation, but then again I have yet to see a film of his where he makes it straight to the point, no slime attached. And that’s just the way I like it, with this being my favorite so far and Crash (1996) being a runner up.

        Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019): Every. Single. Shot. Should. Be. In. A. Museum. It’s that beautiful, both in its visuals and its characters. This film does everything right in both being period accurate and correctly showing “what it feels like for a girl” (thank you Madonna). This is a relationship at it’s most pure, which makes this film all the more heart breaking; fire does not last forever no matter how strong it burns. Maybe one of the best films ever made? I feel like I’m rambling. Go watch this.

        Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter (2001): Why did this change my life? Why is this part of the reason I started my own podcast? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I firmly believe Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter is made with the thing Jesus valued the most: love. It feels a bit like a fan-made comic book film, and I’m very curious to see Lee Demarbre’s stance on Christianity. I refuse to believe there is even a droplet of hate involved with the production and viewing of this film and if there is then you are wrong. The equivalent of an ice cream social and puppies, but in homemade B-movie clothing.

        Breaking the Waves (1996): I didn’t watch as much Lars Von Trier as I anticipated, mostly because the length of his films scare me off in my busy schedule. Breaking the Waves is something I made time for, despite its nearly 3 hour run time. Happy I did, as it quickly became my favorite Von Trier film (surpassing The House That Jack Built (2018), something I had to walk away from because it freaked me out so much upon initial viewing). I love his handheld style so much; it adds this rawness to what already promises to be a tough watch. Emily Watson gives a flooring performance as a small town girl who is asked by her husband to have extramarital affairs in order to give him a reason to live. She tests the value that you must be faithful to your husband in order to be faithful to God. She goes against the values of her community and the Church, but she is being faithful. At what cost? A harrowing love story, with a sad ending that only Von Trier can make feel remotely positive.

        Possession (1981): What new thing can I say about this? Probably nothing. There are people I know who complain about several modern horror films taking from Possession. My retort is who cares? This film is great, people see it as great, and that is all that matters. Frankly, it only makes me want to see things like Nosferatu (2024) more. It is a Lovecraftian dive into the hellish side of marriage and deception. This is trauma put onto celluloid. Please don't touch it, Robert Pattinson.

        Silence = Death (1989): We did an episode on one of Rosa Von Praunheim’s happier films, City of Lost Souls (1983), which is in the ilk of Paris Is Burning (1990) when it comes to displaying a small community and the celebration of it’s culture, all while being grounded in the fact that they are part of the alternative. Ironically Silence = Death was also shot in NYC around the same time, but takes a much different tone than both of those films. Simply put, this is the grim reality of the AIDS epidemic, which I realized is not really taught in public schools at the time of this writing. It is an angry film, taking a particular ire towards the government which stood by and did nothing. Unfortunately, it has also aged quite well, and it was probably a bad idea to watch near an election cycle. A powerful push for activism in the LGBTQ community, both then and now.

       Perfect Blue (1997): Fame eats you. Everything and nothing are real. There is no difference between fantasy and reality. This is what hell looks like. Far and away my favorite anime film to date. Also a lot of my friends are into anime and Eastern culture and they have told me that idols often have very toxic fanbases, and that there is less legislation for the protection of women, so I refuse to believe that something similar to this hasn’t happened.

        The People’s Joker (2023): Let trans people be trans people. We're just silly little clowns. Need I say more? Vera Drew created perfection with this. Between the portrayal of dysphoria, exploration of self identity, and willingness to go against the norm, this film is made for me. Plus, I understood and loved all the comic book references she uses. And I got a free banner from my advisor of this film that proudly hangs by my desk.

        My Own Private Idaho (1991): How many people can say they watched something for Udo Kier doing a lamp dance, but ended up having their life completely changed? This is a film I watched fairly early in the year and have since seen several more times in order to reaffirm my thinking, but also to bring comfort. Following a pair of friends on a road trip to discover themselves, every single viewing I was brought to tears. My first sit through of this triggered several revelations about my gender, sexuality, and the relationships I had in my life up to that point; I did not expect to find the gay hustler movie so relatable and applicable to my life (particularly the duo of River Phoenix’s Mike and Keanu Reeves’s Scott). Gus Van Sant uses everything at his disposal to carefully craft this film into a moving tale of young adulthood and self discovery, and that closely applies to myself both at the beginning of this year and today. Safe to say this may be my new favorite film ever, and that if anyone ever wants to get to know me outside of schlock, this would be what I tell them to watch.

Parker S.

Who's Going to Believe a Talking Head?

Everyone who is reading this has heard of Re-Animator, and hopefully has seen it (if not, fix that right now or I will make you drink glow stick fluid). The film turns 40(!) next year and has maintained its reputation for shock and comedy. It’s a film that continues to make my jaw drop at certain scenes despite numerous rewatches over the years, and yet it never fails to feel like a warm hug every time I put it on. While I’m not proud of this per se, I’m so thankful this has kept me reeled in all these years later.

2,100 × 2,100

While you may not know of the source material, you most likely know of the author; H.P. Lovecraft has gained quite the reputation over the years. As far as my knowledge on him? I’m not going to position myself as a scholar or an expert on his work, but I do feel some compulsion to talk about him in order to give some context. Writing during the early 20th century about eldritch horrors incapable of being understood by humans, his short story “Herbert West - Reanimator” initially seems like an outlier in his array of work, dealing with more down to earth topics like medical experimentation and death. Looking further however reveals a common thread found in Lovecraft’s work: fear of the unknown. He tends to use first person narration throughout all of his stories, creating anxiety in readers as they slowly unfurl the mystery that not even Lovecraft seems to know the answer to. “Reanimator” ponders themes of morality and the limits of science, like its inspiration Frankenstein does, but it does so in a bit of a pulpy manner, being much more gory than Mary Shelley’s novel and even other Lovecraft stories. Often decried due to his rampant racism and xenophobia, his ideas have influenced so many writers and directors to the point where it’s hard to discredit him, be it direct adaptations of his stories, the creatures they create, or simply using similar techniques to establish a similar paranoid tone in their works. 

Being an adaptation, Re-Animator does take elements from the story, specifically the first two entries. However, as with most Lovecraft, gothic settings and indescribable tentacle monsters do not always equate to a coherent narrative; there must be more meat on the bones in order to engage most audiences. Initially wanting to make a miniseries consisting of six 30 minute episodes, director Stuart Gordon realized that most television networks were not interested in either the content or the length of what he wanted. He soon hired gothic literature professor Dennis Paoli to help him adapt the script into a feature length film that would take place in the modern era, but still feature pivotal parts of the serial.  

        Using this idea, Paoli turned the script into a story about a medical school student becoming unintentionally drawn into his roommate’s experiments to defeat death, turning his life upside down. Featuring graphic gore, outrageous sexual situations, and an iconic anti-hero, Re-Animator has all the hallmarks of a genre cult classic. Chances are you have seen it and wince at the phrase “giving head” in context to this film; I certainly do! The most curious thing is unlike some well known films of the time (namely The Thing (1982) and The Shining (1980), which were panned upon release and later hailed as classics in retrospect, Re-Animator has never had a critical reevaluation of sorts. Critics loved it when it came out (even gaining positive reviews from Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael), and it has retained similar levels of praise since. The only thing that has maybe held back the film is the choice to leave it unrated; this kept the uncensored version off video store shelves for some time, however once the proper version was put on VHS (and later DVD and Blu-Ray), exposure only grew, and the positive feedback has kept on coming.

        Part of the timeless charm is how the cast is able to find what little quirks each of their archetypes have, and how well they make these work together as an ensemble. Jeffrey Combs brings a domineering energy as Herbert West, never stepping on his co-stars but remaining a force to be reckoned with throughout the film. West does not care that chaos comes in his wake; he just sees any consequences as mild annoyances and goes around them. Bruce Abbott plays West’s foil Dan Cain, the straight man that is supposed to be the audience’s reaction to the mayhem, yet is complicit in all that takes place. The lone female role of Megan Halsey is portrayed by Barbara Crampton, and while I don’t think there is anything special about how she is written, I do think she does an incredible job as the voice of reason in these impossible circumstances, despite how her character ends up receiving some truly horrid treatment. These three have an incredible chemistry with each other, and give the film some of the most memorable exchanges of the film.

        This trio of students is complimented by two very similar yet different authority figures; Dean Halsey (played by Robert Sampson) and Dr. Hill (played by David Gale). Halsey is Meg’s father and is rather protective of her, being lukewarm of her relationship with Dan. When he gets wind of the activities Dan has (unwittingly) participated in, he turns against it altogether, just before being killed off and becoming yet another experiment. While he at least starts off having good intentions, Dr. Hill is quite different; upon meeting him, West immediately calls him out on his suspected plagiarism, causing tension that is only resolved when Hill tries to intimidate West into handing over his research. It doesn’t go well for him, and Hill has since become a centerpiece for some of the more memorably comedic scenes due to his… detached state. This doesn’t remove the ominous presence Gale has whenever he’s on screen; his towering height and booming voice nicely contrast the rest of the cast, and he relishes being both a dictatorial professor and an unhinged reanimate.

        While the choices made by the cast to bring out certain nuances certainly are a major part of Re-Animator’s status as a cult classic, the writing also plays a significant role in the element of camp the film brings to the table. While some scenes were helped by the campiness and chemistry of the actors, there are some scenes that don’t need to be played up to be funny. Take when West reanimates Dr. Hill’s head and body separate from each other; he has difficulty getting the head to stand up by itself and puts a noteholder under it! Then he is cursed out by the head and knocked out by the body. Stuart Gordon may have wanted this to be a straightforward film, but little instances like that prove otherwise. Add on top of that the low budget (which make any of the scenes involving the dead cat funnier than they ought to be) and dry one-liners here and there (such as “Who’s going to believe a talking head? Get a job in the sideshow", "oh what will they do, embalm us?”, and “What would a note say, Dan? ‘Cat dead, details later’?”), and you end up with a film that aims to be just as slyly funny as the short stories often are in pure absurdity.

        What to make of all this? Is there anything to make a point of? On the surface perhaps not; in fact when I show this film to people they either love it for the camp, or hate it due to the excess thrown at them. But with a source material expanding upon points of the limits of science and what humans should do, and a director that made a name for himself in Chicago theater by making a politically psychedelic Peter Pan play, I knew there had to be something lying just underneath the surface.

        Rewatching both the film and Re-Animator Resurrectus (2007), the documentary about the film’s making, I realized something very important. This is not a “typical” Lovecraftian story, where the people start out insane and end up even more insane. Most of the characters here are just regular students and are very relatable throughout the film. They have normal human reactions to the madness around them, and while they may succumb to the hellscape around them (figuratively or literally), they ultimately remain who the viewer roots for. Through this, Stuart Gordon and Dennis Paoli are able to create a domestic drama that pushes the limits of horror. Dan is the center of a love triangle of sorts, being constantly pulled at by West’s desire to cure the ultimate disease, and by Meg’s desire to continue a fulfilling life, regardless of the hurdles it may take to reach that. Simply put, it's the work life balance we all struggle with in our daily lives hidden just behind the morgue doors. 

        Re-Animator also brings to the forefront the themes of mortality, and just how great a gift like reanimation could be to humanity if put in the correct hands. Herbert West is not this, even if he fully understands how great it is; rather, he seems to relish in this idea for himself, often coming off as arrogant. When I showed my mother this film (that’s a story for another time), she thought he was a creep. I simply replied “well in his eyes he’s just better, and he can’t help if he has a scientific breakthrough in his roommate’s basement”. He sees something commonly accepted as permanent and turns it on its head; does his experiment need rethinking, or are we just not ready? Maybe the answer in context to this is obvious, but it does beg the question of what we should do and when regarding science and ethics.

        Now, how the hell did this come into my life? Strangely enough, this isn’t something I’ve known about for all the years I've been obsessed with horror films. I had to do what I thought was some digging to find out about this, and having Dead Meat (my favorite YouTube channel at the time) cover it some years ago made me even more curious. While I love the mainstream classics just like anyone else, there is something special about becoming obsessed with something that no one else really knows about, especially in your early teens. By that time I was used to having glaring blindspots however, and simply pushed it aside in favor of comic books and My Chemical Romance.

        It was when I was in my junior year of high school that I found myself wanting something new but old, comforting but intriguing. By this point, my parents had finalized their separation and I began to see my father more often. Every other weekend I fell into a deep depression that not much could pull me out of. One day I put a small streaming service on the TV and found Re-Animator, and was reminded of how underground this seemed to me when I first heard about it, then realized I still didn’t know jack shit; I needed to watch the damn thing! So I did. And I fell in love.

        Like most things I was into during high school, I didn’t understand a lick of why I loved this gross thing. Maybe some relief that it didn't cause my interest in pathology or body parts (blame Forensic Files for that), but I was still confused. Even after watching its two sequels, Bride of Re-Animator (1990) and Beyond Re-Animator (2003), I just didn’t get why I liked this at all. Then it hit me: I saw myself in the characters on screen. Partially because my girlfriend at the time told me I roughly resembled Jeffrey Combs, and partially because the characters are both captivating and campy.

        “Why pick this when you could go be like every other teenager and be obsessed with more mainstream horror films?” Yeah, I know. But upon doing some actual digging (not just poster searches on IMDb) I found something very unique that I was a little shocked to come across - the rabid fandom that has appeared online. Most major horror franchises have a large fanbase thanks to new installments and constant pop culture references (I’m looking at you, Scream and Halloween). Re-Animator is unique in that there hasn’t been a new film in some time, yet there are multiple individuals online that have latched onto the trilogy, specifically the first two. A significant part of this is the homosexual undertones that audiences have detected; much like A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985), the relationship between the two main characters is very… choice at times. Both the writers and actors have somewhat acknowledged these aspects, with producer Brian Yuzna including an essay in a release of Bride regarding the admitted closeness of the two characters, and Abbott and Combs joking about Dan and Herbert living together despite both being practicing doctors at a hospital on the DVD commentary. Unlike Freddy’s Revenge, however, the undertones here are unintended, which makes it all the more interesting.

This is my art; if you steal just know I have your IP address!

With these revelations in mind, a small community has taken these ideas and ran the mile with them, creating fan fiction, edits, and fan art of the two doctors. I always say if you want something, you can find it on the Internet, and if you want to see an edit of Dan and Herbert grabbing each other in varying situations of panic, it’s out there (not a joke, I don’t blame this person for creating this). Multiple fans have also caught onto small behavior patterns of Herbert’s that could point to him being autistic; he’s rather blunt and antisocial, always seems to be fidgeting with something, and is laser focused on his scientific pursuits. I doubt this was an intentional characterization by either Paoli or Combs, but it makes total sense as you watch him interact with other characters. Others have theorized that due to his height, higher voice, and a certain hubris-fueled monologue about blasphemy and creation in Bride that West may be transgender. While an interesting characterization, I draw the line there; it doesn’t sit right with me to force a particular gender identity on a fictional character unless explicitly stated, and I am happy to let West express his ideals in whatever way he feels appropriate (and to let Jeffrey Combs be a short king). ‘Tis the magic of creativity I suppose; I can’t say I haven’t been entertained by the volume of work out there. As a matter of fact, it actually helped me feel a little less weird that there are other human beings that have the same interest. Pointing out these small quirks that the creators didn’t intentionally try to get across somewhat validated my thoughts that there was something besides a bunch of hamburger meat.

Thus is the duality of B-movies - they can be completely nonsensical but also hold multiple points of merit for viewers to become engrossed in. It’s the gift that continues to keep giving, no matter how worn out your disc or friends become. I know everyone who listens to this podcast or reads my articles has a story like mine where there was a moment they fell in love with genre films, and never expected to have a film like this become so impactful in their life. For me, that moment is turning on Re-Animator in my eerily quiet room away from my family and finding comfort in the chaos. I cannot understate how important this film is to me; it was the true start of my ventures into cult films that has led me down a road of inescapable hell filled with joy, and for that I’m forever thankful.

Parker S.

This article first appeared in Tri-Star Trash Cinema, Issue #10