GRIEF

"There must be millions of people all over the world who never get any love letters. I could be their leader."

"Realistic" Charlie Brown by  Tim O'Brien.

UNSUNG HORRORS: THE FIRST POWER

Every once in a while, a genuinely great horror movie—one that would rightfully be considered a classic, had it gotten more exposure and love at the box office—makes an appearance. It comes, no one notices, and it goes. But movies like this are important. They need to be treasured and remembered. If intelligent, original horror is supported, then that's what we'll begin to receive, in droves. We need to make these movies a part of the legendary genre we hold so dear. Because these are the unsung horrors. These are the movies that should have been successful, but were instead ignored. They should be rightfully praised for the freshness and intelligence and craft that they have contributed to our genre.

So, better late than never, we’re going to celebrate them now… one at a time.

Dir. Robert Resnikoff

1990

Orion Pictures

United States

I struggled with whether or not to include this particular entry of Unsung Horrors for a long time. It’s a movie that I have unashamedly loved since I was very young (as it was one that used to run near-constantly on what eventually became the CW). The reason I struggled with it is because no one ever talks about it. Not critics, not horror sites, and not even like-minded, casual film geeks. It’s almost like a phantom – some forgotten tome from the very early '90s that may have gotten lost in the so-called listless decade in which people seem to think nothing notable in the horror genre was released. Because of that, it’s hard to gauge if The First Power needs to be defended (It Ain’t That Bad) or rightfully praised (Unsung Horrors). But then there’s another problem. I have no objectivity because I’ve been watching this thing since before my ability to detect quality over something I merely like was refined. (And there is a difference between liking a film and said film actually being good.) So, is The First Power a good movie? I honestly can’t say. It does, after all, star Lou Diamond Phillips, who somewhere after Young Guns became kind of a walking punch line. And it does contain immortal serial killers, psychics, and cats eating pizza.

In the interest of remaining optimistic, I think it’s fair to include it here. Those who disagree can sound off below.

Lou Diamond Phillips plays Russell Logan, a Los Angeles detective who specializes in tracking serial killers. His latest target is Patrick Channing, aka The Pentagram Killer (Jeff Kober, most recently of “Sons of Anarchy” fame). He likes to kidnap girls and carve pentagrams on their bodies while wearing his creepy face mask and saying prayers in reverse. A routine stake-out in hopes of capturing Channing ends with the attack of a female detective, and Logan pursues the killer, getting stabbed like crazy town in the process and left severely injured. Still, Channing is arrested and put to death for his crimes.

Time passes, Logan recovers from his wounds, and everyone celebrates Channing's demise, including Logan. But then he receives a phone call from the mysterious woman who has been assisting all along with the investigation. Turns out Logan has gone back on his word, breaking the agreement that had been forged between them – she would continue providing Logan with information to help catch Channing only if he promised that he would be taken alive, and would not be put to death. (Oops.) Turns out, Channing’s reign of terror is only just beginning. With his spirit freed from his corporeal body, Channing now has the uncanny ability to body jump from host to host and cause all manner of havoc.

Tess Seaton (Tracy Griffith, of Sleepaway Camp 3!) plays a psychic (aka the mysterious woman) who makes a damn good living as such. Logan hunts Tess down after the body of that female detective who had been earlier attacked by Channing is found covered in Channing-style knife graffiti. At first assuming Tess must be in on it, Logan begins to slowly believe in the “other” world that allows such things as the psychic powers Tess possesses, or the abilities that allow Channing to do what he is doing.  

Along for the ride (for better or worse) is Logan’s partner, Ollie Franklin (probably the most popular and recognizable character actor of all time, Mykelti Williamson, responsible for Bubba in Forrest Gump, among many, many others). His screen time is unfortunately limited, but he manages to slip in at least one "kiss my black ass," which I believe was a requirement in every cop procedural movie featuring a black actor made during the 1990s.

I love The First Power, first and foremost and above all else, because it’s eerie.  It’s a combination of several horror staples – serial killers, the supernatural, and religious mythos.  It combines all of these in a (heh, I was about to say believable) clever manner and they work well enough together that they become believable (in a strictly cinematic sense). But it's also well aware of itself, and writer/director Robert Resnikoff is wise to inject a bit of humor into the story, both in dialogue and in circumstances. It's an interesting juxtaposition in that The First Power can be pretty grisly, eerie, and dark. But then it will take a break and let Logan or Tess or even Channing say or do something ridiculous that will let the air out of the powder keg a bit to settle things down. The use of humor is slight, but appreciated...until the third act, in which Channing possesses another character and goes ape shit inside Logan's car as he and Tess try to make a break for it. In this scene the puns fly fast and furious, and Channing goes from being a murderous, demonic killer to a huge pain in the ass.

Incidentally, this scene ends in a wicked car crash.

Full disclosure: The First Power is not perfect, is nowhere near it, and at times severely stretches the concept of disbelief. After all, what are you supposed to do when the killer rips a ceiling fan off the wall, separates it from its wires and power source, and still manages to turn the damn thing on and pursue our characters, anyway? Or how are you supposed to react when the climax of the film, which takes place in a sewer, involves a gigantic vat of acid that’s there for some reason?

Because The First Power wants you to be be thrilled as well as have fun. As "no shit" as it may sound, The First Power knows it's a movie. ("No shit!") It exists entirely within the world of cinema, and so tropes we've come to easily accept in more traditional cop-hunting-a-killer movies are gleefully included here, like the hard-drinking loose-cannon detective, the killer with a gimmick, and the out-of-nowhere love interest. But that's all okay, because it works just fine.

There is no better scene in the film that more aptly sets the tone than the one which takes place in the third act. Sister Marguerite, a minor character vital to the conflict, has a deep seated knowledge and obsession with the world of cults and devil worship, so much that she is chided and considered an outcast at her convent. Logan begs for her help and Sister Marguerite soberly agrees. For Logan's reference, she recites the three powers (backwards for some reason): the third power is the ability to possess other human beings; the second power is the ability to tell the future; and the first power is resurrection. Marguerite believes the Devil himself has granted Channing the first power, and only one thing will stop him. She goes to a cabinet and retrieves an ancient looking crucifix. She holds it, almost as if in awe...and then this happens:

"Mind if I ventilate?"

And the reason I say this is a perfect summation is because The First Power is not here to make you think. It's not here to stoically depict a battle of good and evil a la The Omen. It's not here to test your faith like The Exorcist. It's not here to present you with a existential battle for the soul. The First Power wants to fucking stab the killer to death with a God knife.

And I am totally fine with that.

Appropriately, this snippet from Vincent Canby’s New York Times review made me laugh, even though it’s knocking the very movie I am praising:

The action is fairly constant and some of the special effects are good, but the whole thing is seriously stupid. A rational thought is as fatal to this movie as the crucifix (which hides a knife) is to the changeable Patrick Channing.

To really enjoy what's at the core of The First Power, you’re supposed to push all that aforementioned cheese aside and remember the really eerie moments instead, like when Channing, being pursued through a church after having taken over the body of a priest, stands on top of the benediction table at the altar and mocks the Christ crucifixion; or his chilling reiteration of “see you around, buddy boy” at several key moments; or even the incredibly impressive (and very real) stunt in which a man jumps five stories off a building, lands on his feet on solid concrete, and then walks away – all in one shot.

Lou Diamond Phillips turns in a very Lou Diamond Phillips performance. The actor has always been good, but beyond La Bamba, he’s never really been a part of any film responsible for critical acclaim. And like many other actors of his ilk, a few poor choices and a few stinkers at the box office left him with a near non-career, relegated to small indie productions or direct-to-video oddities (like another underrated little yarn called Route 666, about – wait for it – ghost/zombie prison chain-gang road workers).

Plus his wife left him for another woman, and that just has to suck.

Still, I like LDP as an actor, and it’d be nice to see him getting a bit more exposure. Some A-list actors deserve to disappear into obscurity (looking at you, LaBeouf) whereas others deserve to be rescued from it. All LDP needs is a Tarantino or Nolan-esque revival to grant the man the resurgence he deserves.

In The First Power, he is luckily playing a cinematic cop, for if this were real life, he would be the worst cop ever: he drinks, he can barely fight, he forces civilians on deadly car chases. He breaks into the homes of persons of interest, no warrant on-hand. He even has a shoebox of explosives just sitting around his apartment, filled with grenades, wires, and all kinds of boomy things. "A buddy on the bomb squad gave me this stuff for a rainy day," he explains, like this is the most normal and ethical thing in the world.

But who cares, right? God knife.

Jeff Kober as Patrick Channing is a big damn creep. He looks creepy, sounds creepy, and plays a very convincing deviant murderer. Somewhere in the world he is saying, “hey, thanks!” His isn't a career I've necessarily followed over the years, but after seeing him pop up in episodes of "The X-Files" and "The Shield," I always say, "Hey, it's that guy!"

Writer/director Robert Resnikoff has nearly no career to speak of beyond this. Funny, being that the The First Power doubled its budget during its theatrical run (according to IMDB). Even the biggest turkeys lead to more work for their directors, so long as the money rolled in (see Michael Bay’s entire career). But The First Power is Resnikoff’s sole feature credit as a director, and one of four where he served as writer. That’s kind of a damn shame, for the skills he showed behind the camera for this particular film would definitely have led me into seeking out more of his genre work. He stages several thrilling sequences, including the aforementioned church scene, or the horse-led stagecoach race through the city streets. Special mention must be made of the scene in which the body of a detective is discovered crucified and hung impossibly high off the ground under a bridge. The shot begins in a car-propelled push through a dark tunnel and ends with a sweeping shot to the mangled cop, and it's an effective introduction to the madness Channing will wreak upon those who tried to stop him the first time. Like action director John McTiernan, Resnikoff likes to shoot the eerier focal points of his scene from the protagonists' point of view. We, the audience, don't have the kind of omniscient view that we often do; instead, we see what Logan sees, or Tess sees. Some of creepiest things we see Channing do are shot very far off; one would think that might subdue the power of whatever nasty or fucked-up thing Channing's doing, but, very much the opposite. And given the kind of John Carpenter's The Thing-type identity paranoia that's present here, that's definitely an appropriate choice.

Speaking of Carpenter, composer Stewart Copeland turns in a nice subdued version of a Carpenter score, borrowing the style, but choosing to let the music complement a scene instead of assault the audience's senses with it. Additionally, the sea of demonic whispering and laughter that washes across various scenes featuring Channing are incredibly unnerving and effective, especially when layered over the previously mentioned scene of Channing's mock crucifixion.

The First Power is the best definition of “turn your mind off” entertainment that I can think of. It doesn’t demand all that much of you, and thematically, there’s not all that much going on. For a movie about God and the Devil, it doesn't have much to say about either, other than: God good, Devil bad. But thrilling it is, creepy it is, and you’ll never be bored. Blood flies (as do homeless women), and not everyone makes it out alive.

The end of the film teases a sequel, and it’s one I would have enthusiastically watched. Unfortunately it never happened – likely because Robert Resnikoff got on a rocket ship and blasted off to space after finishing this film, as he never made another feature,

To close, I say again: The First Power is an enjoyable film. Is it good? I honestly don’t know. I’d argue that Friday the 13th: Part VII–The New Blood is a good film because I loved it when I was eight years old, and that love has been grandfathered into my more particular adulthood. When it comes to childhood titles, my meter is probably way way off.

Unsurprisingly, the no-frills MGM DVD is out of print, but Scorpion Releasing has done a fine Blu-ray release for this title, even inviting back Phillips and Kober to recollect on the shoot. (Both seem enthusiastic about their involvement, but in different ways.) Give it a watch and see what you think – I’d be curious how first-time viewers react.

See you around, buddy boy.

HEY, KNOW WHAT'S A REAL MOVIE?

SPRING CLEANING

"We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow."

REVIEW: WEREWOLF FEVER

How on earth does one properly review a film such as Werewolf Fever?

Because, just look at this:

 

Werewolf? More like…I dunno. Not a werewolf. (That looks nothing like a werewolf.)

Werewolf Fever is a movie I should be eviscerating. I should have hit the ground running here and made 30 jokes about how completely inept it was before I ever gave you a trite rundown of the plot. I should have said something like, “This movie is so bad it might as well have been some sort of pornographic film involving werewolves.” Or, you know, something zippy and fun, like that.

I don’t really want to do that, though. I’ll be honest: I enjoyed this farce. I enjoyed the extremely hammy story. I enjoyed the superbly terrible performances. And I enjoyed the gooey effects, consisting of a bunch of severed limbs, a terrible weasel-looking werewolf, and a lot of blood. All of Werewolf Fever’s on-the-surface shortcomings – the acting, the effects, and the awkwardness synonymous with low budget filmmaking – really did nothing but enhance my enjoyment.

Here is that plot rundown I mentioned earlier, which is as simple as it needs to be: A bunch of teens working at Kingburger Drive-In deal with a werewolf that comes stalking, killing any hapless individual that tries to escape. Arms and legs go flying, and people are turned into skeletons covered in chunky meat. Humor ensues – sometimes on purpose, sometimes by accident – but it’s always welcome.

What I most appreciated about Werewolf Fever is that it is most definitely a throwback to the creature features of the 1950s, when werewolves reigned supreme. And the idea of the Kingburger Drive-In – where waitresses sport roller-skates and vintage muscle-car shows take place – harkens back to that bygone era. Adding to this homage is a minor character whose heart has been broken by one of the Kingburger waitresses, and who rolls through the drive-thru to recite a poem he had "written" himself, which is stolen from Stephen King’s It (the bulk of which takes place in the ‘50s, and which also features a werewolf). Said character wears a leather jacket and carries a switchblade. All he needs is some greasy hair and several claims of harassment from male masseuses and he is literally Danny Zuko. For me, this recapturing of 1950s werewolf cinema was the biggest selling point and the most rewarding aspect of Werewolf Fever.

Director Brian Singleton had very little money to work with – that much is evident – and what money he did have went to special effects. In that regard I can't judge too harshly. But if it were possible, I would have excised a couple gore gags and put that money towards developing a werewolf costume that was more...indicative of a werewolf. The film comes dangerously close to looking like Pekinese Fever.

But at the end of the day, I can't complain too much. It really didn't affect my enjoyment of the film, so, there's that.

"Mind if we obfuscate?"

Low budget filmmaking – especially horror – can be extremely polarizing amongst genre fans. Some factions love the approach while others loathe it. I’ve always been somewhere in the middle. Time and time again it has been proven that a budget does not equate to quality, but obviously that’s not to say that every low budget effort, even if the filmmakers’ hearts were in the right place, was a slam dunk.

In terms of a general viewing, Werewolf Fever is neither a slam dunk, nor a condemnable piece of shit. It lies somewhere in the middle. But what I can say is that fans of low budgets and hammy monster costumes will find a lot to enjoy about it. It’s completely disposable entertainment, but that’s okay. So long as we enjoy ourselves.

Plus, I love that poster.

LIKE PICTURES IN A BOOK

No idea if this is legit or not, but if it is...this is pretty cool.

Stanley Kubrick's own notes made in a copy of  The Shining.

Click the photo to embiggen.

Stolen with love from The Daily Dead.

IT AIN'T THAT BAD – BOOK OF SHADOWS: BLAIR WITCH 2

In this column, movies with less-than-stellar reputations are fairly and objectively defended. Full disclaimer establishes that said movies aren’t perfect, and aren’t close to being such, but contain an undeniable amount of worth that begs you for a second chance. Films chosen are based on their general reception by both critics and audiences, more often than not falling into the negative. Every film, no matter how dismal, has at least one good quality. As they say, it ain’t that bad. 

Spoilers abound. 

A sequel to The Blair Witch Project was probably doomed from the start, no matter what direction was attempted.

A direct-direct sequel? What, it turns out – oops – Heather, Michael, and Josh survived their encounter and fled that awful Parr house back into the woods for more dark-screaming?

No thanks.

Perhaps a group of investigators set out after having located the recently unearthed footage and try to find traces of the missing kids, this time bringing along their own camera crew?

Perhaps if the first Blair Witch had been released after Paranormal Activity, which had proven you could go back to the same well using the same schtick and find success, then maybe that would’ve happened.

But it didn’t.

Blair Witch’s success at the box office rang the dinner bell for an inevitable sequel, and so franchise owner then-Artisan Entertainment became intrigued by a pitch that would’ve made the first movie just that: a movie.

Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 takes place in an environment where The Blair Witch Project is recognized as the fictional narrative piece of pop culture phenomenon it legitimately was when it was released back in 1999. It follows a group of people so obsessed with the movie that they set out on some kind of Blair Witch Weekend Extravaganza to immerse themselves in everything that made them total suckers for the movie.

I give Artisan and director Joe Berlinger heaps of credit for trying it this way. You have to admit, it’s a pretty ballsy move by putting all your eggs in the basket of “you know that movie you love and which made the world come out in droves to see it? Turns out we’re retconning it all and having it be just a movie.” And it was even ballsier in picking documentary filmmaker Joe Berlinger (the Paradise Lost trilogy; Brother's Keeper) to take the helm of his first (and so far, only) feature film.

The screenplay by Berlinger and co-writer Dick Beebee (the House on Haunted Hill remake, “Tales from the Crypt”) is actually not just some kind of exploitative rehash of familiar horror tropes (or at least wasn’t meant to be), but was actually about our dependence on pop culture and the power of mass hysteria. All of the characters come from completely different walks of life – a former patient of a mental institution, an unstable weirdo (and hot) Goth, a married team of writers researching for a book, and a new age Wiccan out to dispel the notion that all witches are evil bitches – and yet they have all ended up in the same place, and it was their obsession and/or infatuation with The Blair Witch Project that led them there.

The best part of the film belongs to the opening five minutes (not including the terrible credit sequence), which is a compilation of news reports and entertainment talk shows discussing the explosive reaction to The Blair Witch Project – from MTV's Kurt Loder (remember him?) to Jay Leno – which is intermingled with interviews of “real” Burkittsville residents who discuss their love/hate relationship with the film. It’s an incredibly clever and intelligent opening to a film that is trying to tell its audience right off the bat, “We’re trying something different.”

Obviously, though it's shot traditionally, there still needed to be that amateur video aesthetic that made Blair Witch so successful and effective. And so elements of video captured by our cast becomes the catalyst for the film's conclusion. Because what the video shows them doing does not at all match up with what they're absolutely sure happened, according to their own memories. The things they experienced – and believed to be the real truth – are easily shattered when played on a computer screen in front of them. And what the video shows is them committing murder, participating in orgies, and offering sacrifices to the "real" Elly Kedward. But we, the audience, never saw these things. We saw a bunch of white kids drinking copious amounts of alcohol and each discussing his/her own ties to The Blair Witch Project. They were obnoxious and antagonistic and sometimes irritating, but never murderous. So how was it this footage was captured? Are we, the audience, being lied to? And if so, who are the perpetrators? The kids? The witch? Our own eyes? The true mystery lies in a statement made by Jeff, the leader of the Blair Witch Hunt, when he says "Video never lies. Film does, but video never lies." Work that around your noggin any way you see fit.

Unfortunately what was to be a more highbrow and classy affair was corrupted by Artisan Entertainment, who demanded that corny gore and Marilyn Manson complement the opening credits. Blair Witch 2 became a real Frankenstein affair, and Berlinger’s commentary on the DVD is quick to point out which scenes he was forced to include in order to appeal to a more broad (read: stupid) base.

In some regards, I am the lone cheerleader, and unendingly optimistic. But in others, don’t worry – I’m not delusional. For instance, I recognize that the acting is pretty atrocious. Though some members of the cast went on to other notable things (Erica Leehrsen did 2003’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Wrong Turn 2; Jeffrey Donovan ended up with "Burn Notice"; Kim Diamond became Spike Lee’s muse), there is no short supply of horrendous acting and/or dialogue.

For instance:

“Witch bitch!”

“The witch…kills…children!”

"Fucking witch!"

Etc.

(But let it not be said bad acting has killed a horror movie. Mia Farrow’s flat and corny performance in Rosemary’s Baby didn’t deter its then-and-now legendary reputation, and Heather Langenkamp didn’t exactly graduate from the actor’s studio before taking on A Nightmare on Elm Street.)

BUT!

Lanny Flaherty as Sheriff Cravens gives the best performance…ever.

In the movie’s final act, in which reality (or is it?) is slowly meshing with fiction, there are some nice nods to the first film, such as the very greasy Rustin Parr-looking repairman saying, “I’m finished now,” after fixing a soda machine (although they did blow the line they were trying to homage, which was actually “I’m finally finished”). Additionally, his assortment of tools, when piled together, depict the infamous stick figure that became synonymous with the first film.

The resurrection (forgive the pun) of the Burkittsville Seven children murdered by Parr make several appearances as ghosts, and while the idea of including them is nice, and even appropriate, their make-up is beyond pitiful, and comes off like an elementary school Halloween parade. There are also nods to Kyle Brody (the 8th and only surviving victim of Rustin Parr) and Eileen Treacle, who was allegedly drowned by the witch in a very shallow creek. While these inclusions are clever, it also adds an additional layer in that, yes, the first Blair Witch was just a movie, but all of the events discussed in the film – Rustin Parr, the seven murdered kids, etc. – all allegedly happened. So what we're dealing with is a sequel to a movie that calls it just a movie, but which is based on a "real" history that was completely fabricated for said first movie. Still with me?

Carter Burwell turns in a clever and nature-driven score, using a combination of water and stones to create a patchwork of very woodsy-sounding themes.

Humor is a welcome presence from time to time, normally courtesy of Jeffrey Donovan, and I do also love that “Heather Donohue/light bulb” joke, where the punch line is screaming. (I have an affinity for very stupid jokes.)

As far as horror sequels go, Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 gets a bad rap. It’s not as abhorrent as, say, The Exorcist 2, but it’s also not held up to legendary status (and fairly so). It’s big on ideas and nearly-but-not-quite ruined by a meddlesome studio throwing shit at the horror wall to see what sticks. Berlinger has a keen eye, and portions of the screenplay are clever and intelligent. I'd love to somehow see the original director's cut of this – I have a feeling it didn't include owl eating.

Because we'll never really know what Book of Shadows was originally meant to look like before all the studio tampering, it's hard to assign the appropriate level of blame to director Joe Berlinger. The end result is a somewhat irritating hodgepodge of ideas that, while based on an interesting concept, is ultimately dampened by lowest common denominator-type shock value, awful teen rock'n'roll (Nickelback yay!) and the typical amount of violence usually reserved for Friday the 13th. A shame, since the first Blair Witch's level of violence amounted to a couple of red squishy things wrapped in a shirt – and yet it still managed to be a box office and critical juggernaut – so why Artisan felt the need to cram in generic horror blood-n-guts is something we'll never really know.

A really great idea exists at the core of Book of Shadows, and if you can let the film be and examine it with a less discerning eye, sometimes you can catch glimpses of the director's original vision.

I urge you to revisit this particular fright flick. You might just be surprised.