Review: Far from Perfect: Life Inside a Global Pandemic

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020

Images from the Internet

Far from Perfect: Life Inside a Global Pandemic

Directed by Lenny Schwartz and Nathan Suher

IM Filmworks

142 minutes, 2020

Available on Amazon Prime

First of all, props to whomever designed the poster/logo of the Earth as the Corona Virus. Brilliant.

Even for those not directly affected by the Covid 19 virus, we are all mutually suffering through it. For some, it is being locked away and sequestered like Rapunzel, and others it’s a tantrum reaction to being told to stay inside so they bring out their misspelled placards and guns. But if you are talented and involved in the arts? It can be an opportunity to spread those butterfly wings (okay, not literally…).

Michael Thurber

The East Coast has been hit hard, and what’s a New England writer for film and theater supposed to do to take up the time? Well, if you’re Lenny Schwartz, you write a screenplay about the sitch. Plus, thanks to the Found Footage style genre, use of Skype, Snapchat, WeChat and now especially Zoom (among others), combined with a culture of selfies, artists who are used to being in front of the camera, even if it is their own, can still work from their locus. Then with Nathan Suher, you turn that into a visual work of art.

Lenny wrote a long screenplay that fits in 117 actors as characters, many from his local New England part of the world, and has them leapfrog each other; or another way to see it is as a game of Tag-team. As one quick story end, usually lasting a minute or two, it concludes with them describing someone like their neighbor, friend, spouse, parents, “essential workers,” etc., and then we meet them. It’s like a railroad apartment of actors, going from room to room sequentially.

Jamie Lyn Bagley

Each has a different story, possessing its own tone, with quite the wide range. It can go from hysterically funny, to tragic, to a “yep, that’s what it’s like for me” moment for the viewer. We see people who are loving, fighting, depressed, really getting into the separation, and so forth (and scooby-doo-bee-doo).

As I indicated, the cast is mainly actors, directors, and crew of independent film and local theater troupes. For example, there’s Michael Thurber who runs the Theater Company of Rhode Island, Scorpio Releasing film director Richard Griffin, and a whole menagerie of actors like underrated Jamie Lyn Bagely (who is also a mindfulness/yoga instructor), Samantha Acampora (also a Rocky Horror Picture Show reenactor), Chad Kaplan (also an film animator), Sheri Lee (who was wonderful in the short film Doll House), and a host of so many others, all worth mentioning but… who has the time? Go look it up on IMDB. Or better still, watch the film. Anyway, as I was saying…

Richard Griffin

There are a lot of really smart moments, such as the teen girl who sells her engagement ring and goes to party on a beach in Florida, or a couple who wake up their marriage by robbing from closed stores. While some of it sounds a bit fantastical, most of it is a realistic montage of moments of pathos and joy, sadness and surprised bliss, and the occasional just plain wackiness. Some find inner peace; others find their fears.

Samantha Acampora

One of the aspects of this whole event that it touches on indirectly is that people are losing their minds over two-three weeks of isolation. How do survivalists plan to – err – survive for months in seclusion in shelters? Speaking of survivalist types, despite it’s length I really would have liked to have seen more representatives of the extreme right wing (like those maroons protesting with armor that they want haircuts and to dine in restaurants – talk about White Privilege) and religious fanatics that believe Jeebus will cure all who believe. I am, however, happy how little the President, who holds much responsibility for what is going on that triggered this film, is mentioned (he would love that).

Sheri Lee

When all is said and done, even after the quarantine is lifted and life goes back to relatively normal work-eat-shit-sleep, this will remain as possibly an important time capsule of what it was like “in the time of the plague.”

From beginning of the concept to the final editing took a total of three weeks, and many characters mention being locked up for two weeks and going stir crazy. I have been home for a month now, and I gotta say as much as I would like to go out, it has not been that bad. The house is clean, I have seen some really interesting films like this one, kept in touch with friends and relations, and done quite a bit of writing. Perhaps when the second wave hits, as it is supposed to happen around the beginning of the New Year (Happy Holidays everyone…), just when we hopefully usher in a new President, we may see volume two? I am not wishing for it, just curious, as I would concerning a sequel about after the whole megillah is over and done.

There is no trailer, as of yet.

Film Review: Nothing Good Ever Happens

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2018

Images from the Internet

               

Nothing Good Ever Happens

Written and directed by Henrique Couto

New Dynamic

91 minutes, 2016

https://www.facebook.com/nothinggoodeverhappens/  

Normally, when a director switch-hits genres, it’s either sub-genres within the same genus (horror comedy, horror drama, horror Giallo, psychological horror, etc.), or it’s a one-off to push their own comfort level as an experiment, and then go back to the theme from whence they came. Hence the auteur label.

Henrique Couto, the director of this micro-budget film is a bit different in that way. Yes, there is a stylistic similarity which is pretty inevitable (as an example of that theory, does the name M. Night Shyamalan ring a bell?), but Couto does manage to genre-hop like few others do. Sure, he does horror (e.g., Devil’s Trail), but there is also the likes of Westerns (Calamity Jane’s Revenge), warm and romantic themes (Making Out) and family-oriented releases (A Bulldog for Christmas). He’s also done at least a couple of comedies about depression, such as this one.

Bradley Diehl and Josh Miller

A comedy about depression? What’s more, a decent comedy about depression?! In the words of that deep, spiritual philosopher, Keanu Reeves, “Woooooh.” For this story, Neil (Josh Miller), in a role similar to the Ben Affleck character in Chasing Amy (1997), is an artist who is suffering through some tough breaks. These include a go-nowhere career as a for-hire industrial artist, some friends that bully him, and most importantly, his live in girlfriend Amanda (the always wonderful Erin R. Ryan, who appears in many Couto films) leaves him with little warning, though the viewer gets see a few of the signs. To make matters worse, he accidentally drinks a glass of bleach while in a drunken stupor, and no one will believe him that he was not trying do away with himself over Amanda.

This is where we pretty much pick up the story, as it is told in a mixture of being in the moment and flashbacks. But the basic plot, which in itself is enjoyable, is not all of what makes this film stand out to me. Rather, it’s the way Couto plays with the convention of the story, switching thing up in ways one would not expect, especially in this type of story. His formula is to not be formulaic. Sounds like a contradiction, I know, but that’s what makes it work.

Erin R. Ryan

For one example, most of his friends, including his ex-, turn out to actually be quite toxic, but one of the truest friends who sticks by him, is the not-too-smart, occasionally racist and complete boneheaded Dave (joyfully played by Bradley Diehl). His idea to cheer up Neil is to make up a screechy song called “Neil is an Asshole.” We’ve all had good friends like this, that others would look at and think, what do they see in each other, but it works. Also, that Dave is a sympathetic character rather than being merely an annoyance, shows in both the writing and the portrayal. Another true friend turns up who starts as a rival, Mia (Marylee Osborne, in a really spot-on and impressive reading of her role). Both of these are probably just who you would not expect to be helpful, and in turn it’s the good friends that are toxic and the ones who usually end up in the buddy role in most films.

In a similar fashion, there is a nice little twist in the story about a possible love interest that I will not give away (hopefully) that just shows how smart the film actually is, as opposed to being merely a Lifetime Move-of-the-Week type.

One of my favorite characters in the film is the court-ordered psychologist (Chandra McCracken) who Neil is to obligated to see. She is a wound up looney (reminding me Dr. Cheryl Kinsey, a sex psychologist played by Andrea Martin on “SCTV”), and scarily similar to someone that I once saw as a teen in a similar capacity. She asks really personal questions in a negative-yet-monotone-yet-distant tone, and is hilarious.

Coquette du Jour

In other words, the film is definitely character-driven, and sometimes it’s the moments that impress, such as a disappearing parent, a rebound relationship that takes some surprising turns (with the lovely professional burlesque dancer Coquette du Jour), or a just-met family friend (a nice cameo by Al Snow, who keeps impressing me with his mostly short bits, that I’ve seen, in indie films of various genres).

As with many indie filmmakers who work on micro-budget productions like this one, they find their niche location, and with Couto, it’s the Dayton, OH, area. He has a community, and many of these actors have worked together enough to know each other’s rhythms, and have learned how to play off of each other in ways that give great chemistry, and help move the film along to make it both more believable and especially give a human touch that many large-moolah productions lack.

Again, while the dialog is humorous and the plot is filled with some unexpected twists and turns, it’s not only that and the characters that make this film successful, but also that these fictional beings are given some level of respect, even within the disrespect they sometimes give each other. It’s warm without being mushy, it’s romantic without being sloppy, and there’s some raunchy bits without it being embarrassing for couples to watch together.

Trailer:

Entire free film:

Bonus short 

DVD Review: The Scarlet Worm

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

The Scarlet Worm
Directed by Michael Fredianelli
Unearthed Films, 2011
93 minutes, USD $14.95
Unearthedfilms.com
MVDvisual.com

When I think of no-to-low-budget, independent films, the genres that tend to crop up are either low-ball horror or lower-ball (pun intended) comedy (or a mixture of both). It’s certainly not a western, and especially not one as well made as this.

In addition, when one is viewing indie films on this level, there is a bit of an expectation that the acting will be more along the line of John Lithgow sit-com scenery chewing, rather than John Lithgow dramatic film acting. While there are a couple of somewhat stiff performances here and there from minor roles, generally the performances are top-notch and equal to many of the majors.

The story takes place in 1909, and revolves around Print (Aaron Stielstra), a hired gunslinger for Mr. Paul (Montgomery Ford, aka Brett Halsey), a corrupt cattle baron. Apparently this is a serial position, as Print was trained by previous gunhand Hank (Kevin Giffin), who was in turn instructed by Mr. Paul. Now it’s Print’s turn to pass on his knowledge to Lee (Derek Hertig) a youngn’ assigned by Mr. Paul.

See, while Print ain’t the sharpest stick in the stack, he believes he is, and that is just part of his (literally) saving grace, because what he lacks in thought he gains in instinct. Along with an artistic flair that is way out of place in the Wild West, he turns his many, many, many killings in his “paintings” by posing the bodies, or by the style and grace in which he kills. Death is his poetry (though he claims to write some, which we never actually hear, probably for the better good).

Stielstra, looking like a cross between a shorter Sasha Baron Cohen, Frank Zappa and Tony Shaloub – and I could also add in Daniel Day Lewis in his There Will Be Blood role – is ideal as Print. Having worked with director Michael Fredianelli a few times, he smartly underplays the character, as is mentioned in one of the commentaries, because Print is such a weird and anachronistic dude that it could easily have been done over the top, but by reigning it in and using his eyes and mouth twitches to emote a lot, he brings more of a reality to the character. Even when some of his dialog is neo-Dirty Harry or Pulp Fictionesqe, he finds a way to pull it off without sounding hokey, such as when he describes his Smith & Wesson pistol (though mostly he uses a rifle): “It’s about as pretty as a Sunday morning…I got a feelin’ it’s the kind of gun that God might carry.”

As with most indie films with almost no budget, the crew hold multiple jobs. In this case, Stielstra also wrote much of the original music, including singing up front with the Road Apples (lyrics by the film’s writer, David Lambert), and also handled all the exploding squibs (i.e., “blood” filled condoms).

Hertig, who plays his protégé Lee, has a Rick Schroeder vibe going, especially with the deep blue eyes. At times he acts like a deer-in-headlights, which actually contradicts his wilder “young” days shown in B&W flashbacks. Still, he portrays the character well, starting as someone who’s never killed a person to one who makes up for lost time. Gratefully, the makers did not go the cliché protégé vs. mentor route, but rather an entirely different path.

The role of Hank essentially mirrors the Gene Wilder character from Blazing Saddles in many ways. Written for an older person (Wilder’s was written for John Wayne, who turned down the role), Giffin takes the role and makes it work even as one not much older than his trainee (Print). Like “the Kid,” Hank got tired of killing and crawled into a bottle when not a barber, but comes back as a rescuing hero (without getting shot in the ass by a prepubescent). While being hard, Giffin also shows some of a humanistic side that makes the character likeable.

Before I discuss the next main characters, I need to make something clear. On one of the commentary tracks, Producer Mike Molloy adamantly insists that this film is not based on the style of the Spaghetti Western, but rather later revisionist westerns, and I wholeheartedly agree. A better comparison would be, say, McCabe and Mrs. Miller or those by Peckinpaw than anything by director Leone. I mean, nearly everyone is just filthy, with dust and dirt smeared on their bodies, faces, and clothes. Okay, that needed to be said before I went forward, because the plot of the story is Print being hired by Mr. Paul to kill a brothel owner who performs abortions when necessary (which is apparently often) on his prostitutes (I counted five of the ladies). It is for this reason that the film is broken up into five chapters, each with an antiquated term for the prenatal development of a child (e.g., A Quickening, Ensoulment, and Curettage).

As a side note: practically the only women in the cast are those who work in the cat house, and are severely underwritten compared to most of the men. This is definitely a weak spot, as at least one of them could have been a much better character. Rita Rey plays Annabelle, to whom we are introduced mid-abortion. Her actions change the course of the film, yet she gets very little dialog, and what screen time she does get she is naked more often than not.

Getting back to the matter, as with Leone’s A Fist Full of Dollars, Print is caught between two powerful men, both with heavily armed hired men behind them, and who hate each other for reasons that seem obvious at first, but there is something underlying that we learn a bit later. Along the way is a huge body count that makes most horror films pale in comparison. And yes, there will be blood.

As the first of the two butting heads, Mr. Paul is played by Ford (née Halsey), a veteran actor of high caliber (pun intended) dating back a large number of years, but his specialty was – yep, you guessed it – westerns, and especially of the spaghetti subgenre. You’ll probably recognize him, as he’s also been in hundreds of television shows, usually as a guest star rather than a series regular. His acting is nonchalant and natural, more like he’s talking than playing a character. He makes it look very easy to be both evil and likeable.

On the other side of the equation is the brothel proprietor, Heinrich Kley, played by veteran German actor, Dan van Husen. Husen has a long history of playing Nazis in some A-level films, and in – yes, again – spaghetti westerns (many with Lee van Cleef). Kley is initially also likeable, even though he forces his “girls” to abort their babies, which he considers necessary evils. A religious man, he backs his actions as getting rid of the children of demons (e.g., drunks, violent men). Having Print go after him on the proposal of his being an abortionist has a pro-life feel that made me uncomfortable (the film’s writer, Lambert, claims this was not the case, though), but even Print is somewhat persuaded by Kley’s reasoning. Kley actually comes across as a level-headed guy until he feels betrayed, and then shows some of his true nasty stripes.

Print, through setting up a situation with rival cowhands that he’s angered, works his way into Kley’s trust, and starts working for him as his enforcer. Lee tags along as his son, who falls for Annabelle (apparently his first).

Duplicity and lust leads to a couple of stupendous shoot-outs with dozens lying dead, and even some of the anti-heroes in rough shape. No, I’m not going to give away too much of the well-written and multi-layered story.

The look of the film, under the eye of cinematographer Michael Martinez, is quite outstanding. He uses a bit of a washed-out look to the film, and with an almost sped up look like it’s shot at 20 frame’s per second, especially during the action sequences. The lighting is glaring sometimes in an appropriate way (such as the red shades across Print’s face when he’s talking to Kley). There are a couple of scenes where the light looks a bit different from different angles, but what the heck, the end product looks great.

There are two commentary tracks, but none with the director, sadly. The better is the first one, with writer David Lambert and some of the actors of secondary characters, but worked as crew as well. While about 20 percent of this is whatever, there are a lot of really good nuggets in the rest, including how the film got made, anecdotal stories about the cast, opinions on specific scenes and shots, and other little detail tidbits we love. Apparently, Lambert is a Wild West buff, and he used a lot of his research in the film, which shows. One fact he points out that got my interest is that Print’s character is based on two actual people from the period, one of whom was named Killin’ Jim Miller. I would have, however, loved to have heard a bit more about what the title means, which is explained in the film, but I just didn’t get it.

The second voiceover track is with producers Mike Molloy and Eric Zaldivar, the latter who also does well playing Kley’s weakest-link son, Gus (he was also second unit director). While there is quite a bit of additional information about the making of the film and its crew, they seem a bit less confident in this off-the-cuff role, and tend to step on each other. Zaldivar (who is not as well mic’d) commonly asks, “Should we talk about (so-and-so)?” Molloy keeps second guessing himself with statements like, “Well, I don’t know if I’m supposed to mention (so-and-so), but…” However, I would like to add that I have heard so much worse tracks than this, and there is quite a bit of data, making it worth the listen. Though, I have to say, for a low budget film, two commentary tracks, really? That’s 3 hours above the time of the film itself. It may have been better, in hindsight, having Lambert and Molloy do it together.

Anyway, another bonus is subtitles, but only in Spanish. There are also about a half-dozen trailers, including some by the various crew of this film. There is also a brief seven-minute featurette with the long title, “Of Worms and Dogs: How Wild Dogs Productions Made The Scarlet Worm.” Directed by Molloy, it’s a light piece of fluff that doesn’t really have much point, looking like it was directed by someone in a college film class, but it also obviously was quite work intensive with many edits. Am I sorry I watched it? No, it was enjoyable, just not essential. Best part was getting to see the cast/crew be themselves.

This is a low-budget film, and in case one forgets that, there are a couple of reminders here and there. For example, a couple of times someone who is wearing a hat is shot in the head, and after a spray of blood, of course they die. However, as they fall, their hats come off and the head is unwounded. I found this amusing. As for the story, there is one big potential opportunity missed at the end: a certain character is killed off who is a bit of a milquetoast, which I think is a mistake. Having him come back as a killer bound for revenge in a sequel would have been the right move. And from the commentaries, it sounds like a sequel is in the works, though no mention of it is made on any Websites, and the director has made half a dozen films since this one. I hope it gets made, and I look forward to more of Michael Fredianelli output. This one really shines.

DVD Reviews: House of the Damned and Lust for Vengeance

The reason these two reviews by Richard Gary are grouped together is that they are both made by African-American auteur Sean Weathers, who is based in Brooklyn, New York. He started making films in the genres he liked at a young age, usually with the assistance of producer Aswad Issa and cinematographer George Lopez.

Text © Richard Gary / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

House of the Damned: 15th Anniversary Edition
Written and directed by Sean Weathers
Full Circle Filmworks, 1996 / 2011
72 minutes, USD $9.95
Fullcirclefilmworks.com
MVDvisual.com

This is the 15-year rerelease of indie filmmaker Sean Weather’s first film. Shot in glorious black and white, and mostly in Brooklyn, it doesn’t get very deep, but it’s built on an imaginative foundation.

Here’s the basic diggity (and I’m not giving away anything that’s not on either the box or common literature about the film): Liz (Valerie Alexander) comes home after her dad’s murder (in his own house). Living there is her youthful-looking mother, Emily (Monica Williams) and grandfather. They both have a secret that Liz is about to find out before the end of the night, which happens to be her 21st birthday. Four friends (aka the fodder help her celebrate, and while they all meet their fate in sometimes ghastly, other times questionable ways, Liz is actually the target of the whole affair, and so naturally is the only one that delays that doom.

There is a lot packed into the film, including witchcraft, slasher elements, zombies (the voodoo-forced-to-obey kind, not the braaaaaains ones), all with a haunted house feel. In many ways, this is a very successful film, especially considering it’s a first one by this collective, though one may say it arguably tries to cover too much. I don’t have a complaint with that, though, since Weathers doesn’t attempt to overlap genre types often enough to make it confusing. Heck, there is even a bit of nudity and a hint of lesbianism, as well as a moment of bad rapping (purposeful, I believe, considering a comment by Liz at one point).

I’m not sure what element he was using, be it VHS or s-VHS (I’m guessing one of those by the age of the film), but the black-and-white is highly grainy, and the handheld camera looks it. Still, there is a consistent tone throughout which holds up even after all this time and changes in technology (e.g., if this was some form of videotape, then odds are it was cut on editing bay equipment, rather than on a computer, which is much more time consuming and laborious).

There are a few holes here and there that are common with both indie and especially first-time writer/directors which are kind of blatant. For example, when one of the friends is done in while in the basement, we see the reaction of Liz and her erstwhile rapper boyfriend as they stand in the doorway, but we never see what they saw (the moment in is the trailer, below).

But the biggest flaw for me is the lighting, or lack thereof. The scenes on the roof and in the basement, for example, are creepy for certain, and in that they’re effective, but sometimes the shots are so dark that we’re left not being certain at what we’re seeing.

It is important to remember that writer / director Sean Weathers was 16 when he made this film, not actually something that is well-publicized, but his IMDB bio states he was born in 1980. For someone that young age, this is a pretty complex feature with lots of elements. I’m guessing many of the actors are among the same age group, and good on them for that.

It’s obvious what some of the roots of this film are, such as the Evil Dead and The Return of the Living Dead series. Weathers is evidently a fan of the genre, and that he wants to create his own and give back is a beautiful thing.

As far as I know, none of Weathers’ films, including this one, went the theater route, but rather direct to home market. This was actually quite smart maneuvering on his part, especially if he hit the horror convention circuit. Bet they did really well locally at the neighborhood video stores that were prevalent at the time.

The extras include some of his subsequent trailers, such as this one and the film below, and others like Hookers in Revolt (2006). There are also outtakes and clips from his The Unfinished Works of Sean Weathers (2004).

There are two interesting featurettes also included. One is a present-day interview with the lead actress, Valerie Alexander, who discusses what the shooting experience was like, filmed by an unseen interviewer (a self-deprecating Weathers). Some of the questions are just plain worthless, such as querying which male cast members would she “marry, fuck, or kill” The more interesting bits were actual anecdotes about the filming. The second short takes the viewer back to the house in the present, and starting from top to bottom, Weathers discusses the shooting with the camera person. The basement part is as creepy as the film, so that’s effective.

Lust for Vengeance: 10th Anniversary Explicit Edition
Written and directed by Sean Weathers
Full Circle Filmworks, 2001 / 2011
85 minutes, USD $9.95
Fullcirclefilmworks.com
MVDvisual.com

The director, Sean Weathers, watched over 100 Giallo films before he made this picture. What’s a Giallo? He explains in a title card at the beginning: Giallo is the name for a distinct set of Italian thrillers from the 60’s [sic] that combined crime, murder, eroticism, nudity, mystery and whodunits, with stylish visuals.

Weathers had come a long way in the five years from his first release, above. He seems more assured about his direction, and the narrative is complex, yet cleaner. Ah, yes, the storyline.

Five women who have been friends since childhood are being picked off, one by one, possibly by a male acquaintance from their junior high days named Michael Richards (I am assuming that he was named for the “Kramer” actor, ironically half a decade before his racist rant) who had, after some false accusations, accosted one of them and was sent away to the sanitarium. The story of the events that surround these women meeting their fate is told to us, as described in another early title card, in five separate chapters (averaging about 13 minutes), in non-linear order. Helpfully, though, we are told the order by each chapter’s title card, such as “Anna (4).” If this sounds confusing, it’s actually not while watching the film, which is kudos to Weathers. There is very little suspense on who is the killer, though he is dressed in black leather with a motorcycle helmet with dark visor (what confused me is the person in disguise who kills Stephanie (2) looks to be female…).

Each of these women has a vice, be it drugs, bulimia, or sexual addiction, and we get to see it all in detail. While not stated, I am assuming that their relationship with this guy from their past who was seen leaving the first killing (victim’s name is Jennifer Lopez!), according to a police detective who questions the women a few times, has affected them to the point where they do these self-abusive behaviors as an escape from the memory.

Using grainy video to emulate 16mm, I am again assuming (let me know, Sean), the camera often floats around the actors (who are fully nude at some point or another, including women and most of the men), in a very Mario Bava way. While there are few sharp zooms and super close-ups of eyes, as is common in Giallo (especially Dario Argento), Weathers does an interesting thing with the film’s hue: whether the film is in black and white or color, there are extreme tints used so the image is either red, yellow, blue, green, orange, or others, varying from scene to scene. This was a really nice touch.

As with the previous film, there is a dark sense of humor, such as a character here named being Putney Swope (if you haven’t seen the film by that name, you really need to do so; not only is it smart and hilarious, it has a similar feel to Weathers’ and was directed by Robert Downey Sr.). Another is when a character is being held by the killer with his hand over her mouth, and a roommate walks right by shielding her eyes because she thinks the noise she’s hearing is her pal having sex.

Many of the actors in this film are non-pro, with this or other Weathers’ films as their only credits, but they all do relatively well for their experience at the time, and the nature of the film (i.e., a low budget indie). However, they all bravely are willing to simulate (I’m assuming, once again) sex or at least be naked as they wind their way through their first cinematic endeavor in most cases.

Weathers makes few missteps, which is common in the genre. A key one is that we never see Lisa (5), the last on the murderer’s list, done in. Does she survive? This is unclear. And why is someone who is smitten with Stephanie killed, other than being a clingy creep? I believe perhaps he was in her apartment (as he’s smelling a female’s underwear at the time), but if so, how did the killer get him out? Another is a gratuitous lesbian scene on a beach between two characters in the Jennifer section that have nothing I can tell to do with the actual storyline. One minute they’re complaining about their boyfriends, and the next they’re nude and, well… The biggest bug in my bonnet, though, is that I would have liked to have had more detail about Richards and his motivations.

The extras are similar to the first film above, with trailers for Weathers’ films, and clips of outtakes of various projects. In one section are more title cards, this time with trivia about the making of the film. There is also an interview with Weathers on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, one of the few location shots in the film outside of apartments. Here he discusses the film’s progress, but I would have liked to have had a more thorough commentary track, as well. Weathers is a remarkable guy with interesting ideas, and his work process seems to be something worth hearing.

While I figured out the final shot of the film about 20 minutes in, this was still a fun ride to see where it was going, and how it got there. As a low budget indie goes, sure there is more that ‘Weathers and crew can do to improve, but all things considered – especially comparison to some other films of this nature in the genres he’s hooked into – it shows so much promise. With all sincerity, I would love to see what Weathers could do with some real mentor guidance and bigger bucks backing him up. That could prove his real mettle or his downfall. It would be nice if someone gave him the chance to find out. Meanwhile, I will pay respects to Weather’s Full Circle Filmworks, whose slogan is “Stickin’ it to the man 24/7.”

DVD Review: Andy Warhol’s Bad

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

Andy Warhol’s Bad
Directed by Jed Johnson
Cheezy Flicks, 1977
105 minutes, USD $7.95
cheezyflicks.com
MVDvisual.com

Even though he probably didn’t really have anything to with the films other than being willing to publicize it by having his moniker attached, Andy Warhol apparently loved titles with one word following his name, such as Andy Warhol’s Dracula, Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein, Andy Warhol’s Trash, Andy Warhol’s Flesh, and Andy Warhol’s Heat.

Most of the films had a strong amateur quality to them, which actually made them feel all the more gritty and real, rather than taking away from it. Thus is the case with the film at hand, Andy Warhol’s Bad.

The basic plot revolves around Hazel Akins, played in middle age by Carroll Baker (who sizzled up the screen with the likes of Baby Doll), a Queens, NY, cosmetologist (i.e., does electrolysis from her home) is a crime pimp. She takes orders from regular customers on transgressions upon request (e.g., the opening scene of Cyrinda Foxe trashing a lunch counter’s bathroom). She only deals with women criminals who get paid and then give her a large cut that she calls “rent.” That is until…

Enter Perry King as L.T., a grifter drifter who manages to sweet talk Hazel into letting him stay at her house until he hears from the person hiring him; the only reason she agrees is because of the large share of her cut. Y’see, Hazel is greedy. Even though a cop is hanging around (Charles McGregor, of blaxploitation and Blazing Saddles fame) asking for a name to arrest so he can look good, she won’t turn anyone in simply because of she doesn’t want to lose the commission, not because of good will.

I knew I was going to like this film from the first piece of dialog said by King. He walks into a lunch counter (yes, the same one as mentioned above) and he says, “Coffee. Light and sweet.” I haven’t heard those words since moving to Canada. For those up here who don’t now, it’s the original “double-double.”

In fact, one of the great joys of this film is the harsh Brooklyn and Queens accents, which come naturally, unlike most of what you hear in the media (e.g., CSI: NY). It’s just brutal happiness. Rosie O’Donnell, when she was much younger and doing stand-up, posited that no one would have listened to Einstein if he had a New York accent. But I digress….

Morals are a bit hard to come by with this crowd, as the range goes from casually reading other peoples mail and snipping off fingers for personal pleasure (and then putting it in someone’s mustard jar), to assaults on pets, autistic kids and infants. Oh, John Waters is not the only one holding up a Filthiest Family (albeit no one here eats dog crap). As Mary, the screechy daughter-in-law, played by the wonderful and underrated Susan Tyrrell states, “People are so sick; the more you see ‘em, the sicker they look.” Sing it, sister.

Among the strangest inhabitants of this world are real life Brooklynite siblings, Geraldine and Marie Smith, who also play sisters in the film. It’s a joy to hear them talk, whatever they’re saying. One’s a pyro who sets fire to a movie theater and the very car they just robbed as they tool around.

While Warhol isn’t in the film, his presence is still subtly felt by some of his Factory crowd appearing in the film, such as Brigid Polk (as an insaniac who orders the doggie do-in) and Kitty Bruce (Lenny’s little girl).

Considering how shrill the film is, and how vile the storyline, the picture actually holds together better over time than early Waters’ has, becoming camp in a different way: AW’s Bad is more urban gritty in a Serpico or Taxi Driver kind of way, whereas Waters’ – whose films I truly enjoy – are more suburban mythical. And, may I add as a note rather than an insult, the people here are much better actors than those who appear in the early Baltimore auteur’s work (apologies to Divine, RIP).

AW’s Bad reminded me of other low-budget films of an earlier time, such as Lady in a Cage, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and even Arch Hall Jr.’s The Sadist. It’s certainly more shocking in a humanist way, than some of the other Andy Warhol-related releases, such as Frankenstein or Dracula, and the film is certainly better directed by Jed Johnson than, say, Heat or Trash (mind you, I haven’t seen those latter two films since the ‘70s, so I’m relying on a 30-year-old memory…jeez, I’m old…).

This is not a feel good movie in any kind of way, but it is sharp, in part by the sheer will and emotion of its actors, even when they’re being cool and suave like King, or cold and calculating like Baker. But it’s the others who have a scene or two that really make the picture into the true horror show that it is. Not for the squeamish at heart, but a wondrous slice of life of the truly bad.

DVD Reviews: Renfield: The Un-dead and My Stepdad’s a Freakin’ Vampire!

Text © Richard Gary / FFanzeen, 2011

Images from the Internet

                            

I put these two reviews together because, well, they’re both independent films about vampires! Duh!

Renfield: The Un-dead

Directed by  Bob Willems       

Distributed R-Squared Films, 2010

120 minutes, USD $19.95

Rsquaredfilms.com

renfieldthemovie.com/

MVDvisual.com

There have been two really great Renfields in cinema history that led up to this film: Dwight Frye in the original Tod Browning’s Dracula (1930; starring Lugosi), and musician Tom Waits in Francis Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992). In both (and the original novel), he was, indeed, quite mad. Over the years, it seems, the cinematic character has been interchanged with Jonathan Harker, who originally went overseas to see the infamous count in Transylvania about a land sale in England.

This new telling and updating takes place in the mythical American city of Bayou City (though many shots are of the Ginni and Richard Mithoff Trauma Center, which is in Houston), as we find the police looking for a supposed serial killer by the name of “the Butcher,” who apparently likes to remove heads. Of course, I don’t think I’m giving anything away when I say that it’s our pal Renfield, who is chopping the heads off the victims of fellow vampires Mina Harker (Roxy Cook Hixon), and her long hair and mustachioed hipster son Quincy (Tyler Tackett, who also was the film’s creature effects assistant), to keep the prey from becoming vamps themselves. To give you an idea of the Quincy character, when a soon-to-be target asks him how he moved so fast, his response is the humorous, “I’m a vampire, dumbass!”

The titular character here is played with constant energy by the short-but-muscular Phil Nichols, who also wrote the story, the screenplay (with adaptions from the original novel, the ’29 film, and F.W. Murnau's (1922), though there is a shadow nod to Coppola’s, as well), co-produced, and co-designed the special effects and make-up (he is apparently a maven in this field, and was trained by the Dick Smith). He plays Renfield as a loon, with a constant laugh that sounds a bit like Cesar Romero’s Joker from the television Batman (1966), looking like a biker with his bald head and goatee beard. His veneer shifts often from just a bit of a pancake look, to complete white face, to having full vampire-on (again, with nods to Murnau and Coppola). The make-up design for him and Dracula (also well played by John Stevens, with a Malcovitch vibe; this is his only listing in IMDB!) are fun, with big pointy front teeth (again, Murnau). For Mina and Quincy, though, the only make-up seems to be huge, oversized teeth that don’t work as well. Most of the other appliance effects, especially, are fun, though occasionally overdone (i.e., the bug headed ex-cop, the final battle between Renfield and Drac). The visual special effects are WTF, though, and I say this amusedly. Obviously occasionally filmed in front of a blue screen, there is heavy use of computer graphics (rather than CGI), like a cartoon or video game from 10 years ago. Once in a while, it may blank out behind someone, and you can definitely see the wires in one shot as a vampire hovers. While this cartoony effect may be seen as a detriment, I actually enjoyed that part of it! Like the rest of the film, it was a hoot (or as Renfield may say, “hoo-haa-hee-haa-hoo”).Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens

Getting back to the story, Renfield is in possession of Dracula’s skull, which Mina and Quincy want to find to resurrect the villain through a blood ritual. Along with a well-done origin story for Renfield, we get to see some fierce battles between the forces of, well, evil and more evil. Drawn into this action are forensic doctor Bonnie Johnson (Keli Wolfe), and her ex-husband, Cranston (British actor Paul Damon), who is the head detective on the “Butcher” case. Wolfe delivers one of my fave lines in the piece: as Renfield is about to walk out of the autopsy room, after creating havoc, he says to Bonnie, “I’ll see you soon,” to which she whines, “Oh, God, I hope not!” (See the trailer, below.)

As a life-long fan of the horror genre, I noted many tips of the hat to previous Dracula incarnations, especially Browning and Murnau, both of whom are thanked during the end credits. Here are some examples:

• The sea captain (I am assuming of the Hesperus) who is killed during the crossing that brings Mina and Quincy to the States is named Max Schreck, after the actor who played the Nosferatu character in Murnau
• Of course, at some point, Renfield rises up straight as a plank, as Drac did in Murnau, and then was repeated in a similar honor in Coppola’s retelling.
• When Bonnie is taken to Renfield’s lair, which is a cemetery tomb, he repeats the famous Lugosi line, “I bid you welcome. Enter at your own free will.”
• In a flashback scene, Dracula comments to Renfield about howling wolves being “the children of the night,” and of their music.
• In one of my favorite and possibly most subtle homages, when we first meet Dracula in the flashback, he enters the room exactly like Schreck did in Murnau.
• There is also the shadow of Nosferatu clutching Mina’s heart, as well as his grabbing her breast as he sucks her blood (yes, the 1922 version has that).

There are a few other clichés here and there, like Renfield telling Bonnie, “Come with me if you want to live!” though its delivery is projected so that the viewer is not to take it as anything but recognition.

At a cost of an estimated $170 grand, I’m sure most of it went to effects and perhaps a bit to pay for some of the large ensemble. This is cheesy entertainment, but it is so obviously not expected to be anything but. One aspect I like about independent films, especially in the horror genre, is that it is so obvious that they are out to have some fun, as well as having a final project. Well, Willems and Nichols succeeded here. Despite the blood, gore, and gratuitous female nudity, this is certainly above, say, the Troma level, but not rocket science either. Just a fun blast. In fact, this film was the Remi winner at the 2001 World-Fest Houston International Film Festival, and an official section at the 2010 Bram Stoker International Film Festival.

The extras as a bit skimpy, being the films trailer and a few from R-Squared. But, there is a title card at the end of the film proper indicating that there will be a sequel (which would probably explain the flashed scene of Mina Harker full-on kissing Lucy Westerna). Something to definitely look forward to in the future.

See trailer below

My Stepdad’s a Freakin’ Vampire

Produced and directed by David Matheny           

Level 33 Entertainment, 2009 / 2011

85 minutes, USD $16.95

Level33Entertainment.com

mystepdadvampire.com/

MVDvisual.com

I don’t believe it would be any stretch of the imagination to state that this has a really bad film title, right up there with So I Married An Ax Murder and Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies.

Part of the reason for it being so is that it sounds more like a 'tween Afternoon Television Special than the slacker high school black comedy that it is (such as The Faculty). Borrowing heavily from the likes of Fright Night, My Stepmother is an Alien (hey, another great disaster of a film name), and the “Head of the Class” episode of long-gone television anthology series Amazing Stories, the premise is that small-town anti-hero and rebel high school student Rusty resents his new step-dad, Richard, for recently marrying his mom. While she’s away on a business trip, a surfer-type mailman friend of Rusty’s disappears and then reappears later fanged and in thrall to Richard (after the title, I don’t think I’m giving away much on who is the vampire here), and yet retaining his duuude-ness (aka, the comic relief, well played by Casey Myers). Rusty and friends set out to stop Richard from finding a key that will open the door to an army of hungry (and drippy/slimy) vampires. And, of course, it’s Halloween.

Rusty (played by the diminutive Lachen Anajjar, who looks like a cross between a much-younger David Schwimmer and Jason Schwartzman), does well as the go-to-guy who the school’s administration hates (except for one of the school counselors, who happens to be duuude’s bro, bro). He’s kind of too cool (you can tell because he often wears his hoodie up) for his own good or even credibility to the story, but that’s just one of many “suspensions of disbelief” that run through this film. I’ll get to a couple of them here and there, but will try not to give away too much. Being more of a buddy film than anything else, we meet Rusty’s best pal (Brandon Martin), and a kind-of doofusy guy (M.A. Alford) who wants to hang out with the cool kids, and the girl the latter likes (Anita Cordell). Oh, other than the mom (Kate Forristall), she’s just about the only female in the film with any screen time, and she’s in it for like five minutes at the beginning and end. Naw, it’s just the three school buds, the “mentor” janitor, the duuude and his bro (called “Mr. B” by the “cool” guys), and of course the titular vamp.

For an indie film, there are actually some high quality effects throughout, including some CGI zombies, exploding heads, and impalings. Lots of appliance and make-up effects as well, especially with the risen vampires, and oh, those fangs. Most of the teeth look pretty good (especially the duuude’s), but Richard’s are way too big for his face to the point (pun intended) that the Robert Kennedy-look-alike Larry Peterson – who is also the best actor of the bunch – can’t even close his mouth. It’s kind of obvious they had to overdub his voice during these scenes because there is no way he could have said his lines with that monstrosity in his maw. But since he’s the big cheese, the head honcho, the grand high exalted mystic leader, his teeth obviously had to be the biggest.

Director David Matheny seems to be confused a bit when it comes to whether or not this is a horror (albeit comedic) flick or one geared towards 14 year olds. The risen vampires apparently are way too easily dealt with (despite the occasional flight, they move more like the vampire examples of the Romero zombies, or Chaney Jr.’s mummy), and the only ones who really seem hard to get rid of are Richard and the duuude. And while there is the spurt of blood here and there, present is also a Nickelodeon green goo level that is overused. Also, not only are the kids the heroes (okay, they look more like college age), but there is no cursing or even the hint of sex anywhere to be seen.

Extras include the film’s trailer (and others by the film company), a gag reel that is “meh,” and a full-length commentary by the composer of the music for the film, which is totally skipable (other than the first five minutes when even he mocks the title: “With that name, It’s either going to be really good, or really bad, but either way I wanted to be involved”.

And yet…

For what this movie is (and titled), it was definitely a fun ride; it has even won some awards, such as Best Feature at the Black Swamp International Film Festival, the Killington Film Festival, and the Little Apple Film Festival. I whole-heartedly suggest that if you do see it, watch it as a group. This is just the kind of film that it’s fun to talk to the screen, so have some fun with the buds. Or the duuudes.

DVD Review: The Puppet Monster Massacre

Text © Richard Gary / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet



The Puppet Monster Massacre
Written, puppeteerd, edited, executive produced, and directed by Dustin Mills
MVD Visual, 2010/2011
70 minutes, USD $14.95
MVDvisual.com

There is a sub-sub-genre of puppet-charactered horror and exploitation films that goes back a few years. Some titles include Mad Monster Party (okay, that one was rated G), Peter Jackson’s early Meet the Feebles, parts of Night of the Living Dead: Reanimated (reviewed in an earlier blog), the all-out hardcore Let My Puppets Come, and now this new splatterfest. These are hardly Puppetoons you would show along with Frosty the Snowman to the kiddies.

With tongue in cheek (and hand in felt) writ large, Dustin Mills does an homage to the early plethora of cheesy video-era horror flicks; this one takes place in 1985. Some of the puppets, which look similar in style to the Henson variety, were created by Dustin’s mother, with varied and imaginative looks. It’s not just the gore (of which there is plenty, some of it CGI splatter), the nudity or the sex, it’s the writing that that truly makes this something worth seeking out...other than the novelty of an all puppet exploitation film, of course.

The central theme is that the evil scientist Dr. Wolfgang Wagner (voiced by Steve Rimpieri) and his sidekick penguin, Mr. Squiggums (aka, the comic relief), has built himself a monster parasite that he plans to feed through inviting some town teens to come stay at his house under the premise that if they spend the night, they get… one million dollars.

The first teen (and main character) is Charlie (Ethan Holey), who is afraid of his own shadow, especially compared to his apparently loony World War II hero grandpa (supposedly, grandpa kicked Adolph in his Hitlers…actually – and I doubt this would make Final Jeopardy – the German leader actually only had one testicle, FYI); shame Grandpa (Bart Flynn) couldn’t have been in the movie more as he is so much fun (the crusty and vulgar old man film stereotype that Alan Arkin has embodied so well), though he is actually in the film just the right amount for the story. However, Charlie wants to restore the family honor by reopening the family dollar store (what, you’re looking for sense in a horror puppet movie? What is wrong with you?).

Also invited is Gwen (Jessica Daniels), the hoodie-wearing girl Charlie has been in love with since kindergarten and is now his best/only friend, but is afraid to ask out. We all know where that relationship is heading (some cliché’s remain true), if you’ve ever seen any of a thousand Sixteen Candles kinds of flicks. She comes across smarter, braver and more logical than him, but remains unassuming.

Third is Raimi (an obvious tribute, voiced by Mills), an Elmo-colored film geek/freak who talks in quotes and references. He is buck-toothed, has what I’m assuming are pimples (though they could be blotches; they move from one side of his face to another in different scenes), and has a Wolowitz kind of relationship with his mother (also unseen here). Actually, his oversexed, under-experienced annoying nature is also similar to the Big Bang Theory character, but is hardly a rip-off.

The fourth invitee is a bald tough guy named Iggy (of course) with a too-thick Cockney accent and lots of piercings, who is obviously monster fodder (ah, but will he have a comeuppance? Or is that a comeupuppetance?). Iggy (also Bart Flynn) brings his uninvited gothic, mohawked girlfriend, Mona (portrayed by Mills’ real-life girlfriend, Erica Kisseberth; also the voice of Raimi’s mom), who supplies the “nudity” in a couple of occasions. She is tough as nails and has more than a larcenous streak to her.

The five show up at the Rocky Horror-inspired house, turrets and all, of course on a rainy Friday night. Plot-wise, what happens from then is highly clichéd, but there are moments of lunacy equivalent to the Bugs Bunny cartoon where a horse is walking in the middle of the air who states, as Bugs flies by in Superman style, “A rabbit? Up here?” There are bunny farts (actually there are a lot of farts from numerous characters) and, well, isn’t bunny farts enough? But there is more.

It’s all very amusing, and I can understand why this won the 2011 Motor City Nightmares Film Festival’s Best Animal Film award. In the end credits, Mills lists some who inspired him to make films, such as Guilliamo Del Toro (imagination), Kevin Smith (zippy dialog and lower-level humor situations; even in Smith’s best film, Dogma, there’s a shit demon, or “poopy-boy,” as Muse/Selma Hyack calls it), Robert Rodriguez (action pacing and editing; his Planet Terror is a joy to watch for that), the aforementioned Peter Jackson (certainly not for his Lord of the Rings work, but rather his also excellent early films), and Jim Henson (well, that’s kinda obvious, doncha think?). Bugs Bunny (hey, bunnies run through the film, so why not this review?) and/or Scooby Doo can be added in such scenes as when Raimi and the monster duck around each other in varied directions.

There are two commentaries, one by Mills alone, and one by him and assistant director Brandon Salkil. While Mills mentions that he feels the one both of them is better, in actuality, they are both excellent. In either/or, he details how the film cost $3500 (for copyrights, camera, computer, software, felt), and goes on to explain that “An average day of filming was two Jackasses [Mills and Salkil] in my living room with a green screen and bunch of puppets.” Two of the characters are portrayed by professional (i.e., as Mills explains, they’ve done it for money before) voice actors: Rimperi and Flynn; they emailed in their readings, and Mills has never actually met them at the time of the commentary).

Mills goes on to explain why he made the film, his plans for the future, scene by scene his finest and least favorite (a certain CGI shot) moments, and the experience as a whole. He does a better job than most in keeping in the moment on both tracks, which is appreciative as so many other commentaries are wastes of time (including by one of his inspirations, Kevin Smith). There are also two short examples of monster styles that were not used, the second not too bad.

You really have to be of a certain type to like this kind of film, and I’m fortunate that I am, because I had a lot of fun watching the whole she-bang, and listening to all of the two commentaries. Whether there is a sequel or not (there is a typical ‘80s-style hint of it at the end), I hope these guys keep going. Texas Puppet Massacre? Last Puppet on the Left? Night of the Puppet Dead? Puppetzilla (Mills mentions that he has a thing for giant monster films)? It! Puppet From Beyond Space? The Puppet of Gore? Incredibly Strange Puppets Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Marionettes? Okay, I’ll stop now while you order this film…

DVD Reviews: Two More by Creep Creepersin: he and Peeping Blog

Text © Richard Gary / FFanzeen, 2011
Live image © RBF
Cover images from the Internet

As promised in an earlier blog, here are a couple more of Creep Creepersin’s indie, shot-on-digicam full-length releases. He is fast becoming one of my favorite DIY directors, showing an artistic side to his releases. The reason I put these two reviews together is for a number of reasons: they co-star both Ariauna Albright (who RBF met in the early 1990s at a Chiller Theatre show in Rutherford, NJ) and Creep, himself, is the main actor. In both, they are unnamed. These are more psychological in nature than most of Creep’s works, and if fact, Peeping Blog could easily be considered as he’s sequel.



he
Written, produced, directed by Creep Creepersin
MVD Visual, 2009 / 2011
70 minutes, USD $14.95
creepersinfilms.com
MVDvisual.com

”…and drop a smile passing in the hall
But there’s no laughs left ‘cause we laughed them all
And we laughed them all in a very short time…”
- Paul Simon

“You oughta scratch from the human race
You are a waste of a name
A waste of time and a waste of space
You’ve only one claim to fame:
I don’t like you.”
- Stiff Little Fingers

For the opening of the “making of” short, director (etc.) Creep Creepersin states, “I don’t remember really writing it or doing it; I just remember we decided we were going to make a movie, and we made the movie.” From the detail given by him during the commentary, however, that is obviously not the case, but is Creep playing mind games in a film full of mental questions.

This is the third film of Creepersin’s I’ve seen in a row. While it’s one of his early full-length efforts, it’s also among his best. he is a tight psychological drama about an unnamed man and his ever increasing descent into mental illness.

When we first meet “he” (as the character is listed in the credits; apparently it is always lower case), played by Creepersin himself, he’s just gotten out of bed as we watch him bring his very crunchy feet into the shower, while still wearing his glasses. This is to symbolize, I’m assuming, his tenuous connection to what’s really going on in the world though he does his best to see it.

His long-suffering wife (listed in the credits as “the wife”), both touchingly and scarily played by scream queen Ariauna Albright, comes to the bathroom door in a thick leopard print robe open over a black, cleavage-exposing bra that she wears for most of the film. She is obviously unhappy and dour in her life, especially the one she shares with him. Wait, is that a kitchen knife in her hands?

As the credits roll over yet another Creepersin breakfast eating scene (is he obsessed with this meal and tooth brushing, or what?), we start to see how the cracks in the relationship are imbedded, as he obliviously drinks his coffee with long, loud slurps, and mashes the food into his mouth. Not a turn-on for her (or us), as we watch her winch at every sound and action. We also shortly learn that she wants a baby, and holds him responsible for her lack of progeny (despite neither having ever been tested). It becomes explicitly clear quite quickly that they both are having psychological problems. It almost seems like she has a form of severe depression, or PTSD.

After believing the wife has a kitchen knife early on, it become increasingly clear that he’s becoming delusional. For example, after being out of work for an undisclosed period of time (though the impression is it’s been quite the while), he receives a letter that to him says “Proceed,” in big, handwritten letters, but when she reads the same paper (i.e., the real world), it’s a job offer. The viewer gets the distinct impression that he is not exactly excited about it.

Along with these little bits of weirdness, he starts envisioning a hit man (Matt Turek) after him (supposedly hired by his wife who, as we see, gets the idea from doing crossword puzzles; question is, is the puzzle his delusion, or hers?), two business men who hide in the house, a silent watcher with a thick head scarf over her face, a radio dj that talks directly to him in his car, and a couple of times he even sees himself laughing at him and taking physical control of a situation. His most frequent vision is a woman (Malina Germanova) who speaks only in Russian (with English subtitles, but he understands her and answers in English) and will only answer questions, between demanding he run out and buy her cigarettes. It is during this exchange that the viewer starts to realize the extent of his damage, as he keeps pleadingly asking her, “What am I supposed to do?” And then, of course, he’s convinced he’s being watched, in one of the few funny dialog moments that leads into a tense scene.

There are goofy moments here and there that could easily be snipped, such as he singing a nonsensical vagina-referenced song during an extended, unedited close-up shot of him driving for those cigarettes. This reminds me of a similar shot of the Doug character in Ding Dong Dead; it’s definitely the same car, too, by the “grey” alien figurehead on the dashboard.

Speaking of Creepersin-isms, there are some stylistic choices that are reminiscent of his excellent Frankenstein film here, such as someone talking another language with subtitles (in F, it was the voice played backwards) or just nonsense (as an open box does here) without any reference, but in both cases, the protagonist understanding and responding normally. I actually like this gimmick, but hope he doesn’t overdo it in the future. And as for the filming itself, Gary Griffith does an outstanding job of cinematography (or as it is put in the credits here, “shot, edit and manipulation”).

[Ariauna Albright in the early 1990s – photo © RBF]

Creepersin does well to elicit the right emotions from the audience, and though he does a bit of scenery chewing here and there, his inexperience as an actor works for him as the clueless and frightened “he.” Albright absolutely shines as his long-suffering wife, her own anger and resentment usually held just below the surface. Despite the minimal dialog through the film, she is clear in her state of anxiety through her face and body motions. She really should be doing larger films (this being said though this is sadly the first of her in action I’ve seen, despite her long list of indie horror flicks).

There is an interesting 13.5 minute short on the “making of,” with Creep, Turek, and Griffith, who tell anecdotes of the filming. But the most attention-grabbing for me, in a bemused way, was how both Turek and Griffith say Creep’s real name, which is overdubbed by Creep himself saying, in a deep and creaky voice, “Creeeeep.” Of course, it’s easy enough to lip read that they’re actually saying [CREEEEEP]. There are also trailers to some of Creep’s releases.

In the solo director’s commentary, Creep describes in loving detail how the house used for this shoot was not only his home at the time, with his wife/producer Nikki Wall (who also plays one of the voices, as she did in Frankenstein) and their kids, but it’s where he grew up in Cypress, California. The house was also used in Ding Dong Dead and Peeper Blog (they have since moved to Burbank). It takes place at Christmas time (or, as “the wife” insists in the film for an unexplained reason, Xmas), and actually was filmed in December 2008, after a three-week pre-production, yet the house is full of Creepersin’s family horror memorabilia, making it look more like Halloween; this isn’t a complaint, just an amused observation…heck, I’ve had my share of posters, imitation skulls and monster models on my shelves during my day.

Creep goes on to point out continuity errors that would most likely be missed, like while he’s standing outside observing his neighbor’s (real) Christm…Xmas decorations, comparing it to his own, the audience can see the silhouette of his son in the upstairs window watching the filming. I love the humanity of that kind of thing, when a director not only admits to the flaws in his own films, but actually embraces them, as he should. It was also brave of Creep to admit that, “Watching it was harder than making it.”




Peeping Blog
Written and directed by Creep Creepersin
MVD Visual, 2011
75 minutes (bonus: 30 min), USD $14.95
creepersinfilms.com
MVDvisual.com

Let me start off by congratulating Creep for this film winning a Jury Award at the 2010 Polly Staffle Grindhouse Fest (aka Pollygrind), in Las Vegas.

That being said, lets discuss the film…

Didja ever see the Family Guy where Peter wins the Golden Ticket and runs home, tripping on the sidewalk in front of his house, and he sits there for a good minute or two holding his knee in pain, going “Oooo, ahhh”? Well, if you found that tiresome, you may want to hesitate before viewing this. Personally, I found that particular scene hysterical, even after numerous viewings.

After a brief intro where the unnamed protagonist (whom I shall refer to as the Peeper) creates a stalker blog site online (looks like Blogger to me, home of this very review), we are introduced to a scene that is one continuous shot that lasts for nearly 20 minutes. Filmed on digicam in the Peeper’s car (from the alien head on the dashboard, it’s obviously Creep’s car in real life, which was also used in he and Ding Dong Dead mounted on the dashboard, it follows another car (probably also belonging to the Creepersin clan, judging by the pirate skull head decal on the back window; perhaps Nikki Wall’s?) into a mini-mall full of chain stores. We then sit and watch the stalker’s prey (I’ll call her the Peepee…er, let’s make that Peeped), played by Ariauna Albright. She stops into a shop (won’t say the name, only that it is probably a Seattle First-Nations’ word for “bitter coffee”) and we watch sits at an outside table as she drinks her cup and talks to someone outside the camera range (perhaps a real-life fan?). After finishing the drink, she walks back to her car and we follow her out of the lot. Through all this, the only sound is the Peeper’s breathing and some minor ambient noise filtering through the car window.

That is one of the cool aspects of this film, that all the audience gets to see and hear is what the Peeper sees and hears through the very camera he’s using to stalk (hey, saves on having a camera and sound crew, too; this must be one of his lowest budget efforts yet).

The next extended shot is of the Peeper cooking what looks like either a hot pocket or burrito in a nuker (aka microwave oven), and we watch him eat it in extreme close-up (lifting a home-made full-face mask to do so). Yes, once again, a Creeper film where we get to watch someone eat a meal by themselves. He’s consistent, I must say, though I’m grateful we don’t watch anyone brush his or her teeth again. The following shot is as the Peeper hides behind a coat rack and the Peeped walks into a very white-motifed living room. She also nukes her food and eats it alone, perhaps a commentary on their mutual loneliness? A lot of Creepersin’s characters are lonely, even when they are with someone (such as in he). It’s then the audience becomes aware that the plate she is using has the same design as the one he used, and he’s inside her apartment. How he got there is unexplained, and why she can’t see him standing behind a coat rack even though she walks directly past it a number of times is, I guess, a suspension of disbelief. Meanwhile, he watches her sit on the couch in front of the television while eating. When she steps out of the room, he runs out to smell her knee-high boot, and then runs back to behind the coat rack.

After a phone call, the Peeped leaves and the masked Peeper walks around the apartment and into her bedroom, opening drawers, smelling intimate objects, and laying down on her bed. He’s in his usual spot when she arrives back, but she is not alone. Her sister (I’ll call her Sister, played by indie scream queen Elissa Dowling), who has just had a big fight with her boyfriend, is with her. Sister is invited to stay while the Peeped she goes out to work.

When the Sister steps out for a ciggy-butt, the Peeper walks around the apartment, putting down the camera to smell the Sister’s jacket. And, of course, the Sister comes back sooner than the Peeper expects. At that moment, things pick up more than a notch. Also, this is the point where I stop describing the plot (didn’t think I’d tell ya the whole story now, didja?).

If I had to describe this film in single words, what comes to mind is “dreary” and “humorless.” In fact, this is the least pleasing Creepersin release I’ve seen to date. With minimal editing, dialog, or any pleasantry whatsoever, it is a difficult show to watch, and it is all one chapter on the DVD, so you cannot jump to another scene. While not torture porn per se, such as the Saw or Hostel films, the violence of misogyny, both internalized and acted upon, makes this more than uncomfortable and claustrophobic. By putting the audience inside the camera with him, we are equally peeping voyeurs as well. For this reason, I think this is my least favorite of Creepersin’s work that I’ve seen to date. I’m not saying it’s badly done, and cinema violence is not something that I’ve shied away from in the past, but I was prickly watching this to its conclusion. Perhaps that’s the point? If so, then it is effective, and therefore not a bad film, just uneasy.

During an interview on the extras, Creep comments that Ariauna wanted to do a project where she was victimized because during all the years of her making indie horror films, she’s never been in that situation. Apparently, there was no script (despite Ariauna wanting one) to Peeping Blog, all of the dialog being spontaneous. Creepersin also goes to great lengths to show that the mask worn by the Peeper is not the same one worn by the imaginary he in he. Making masks, by the way, is one of Creepersin’s hobbies, he explains in a different film’s commentary.

Other than the trailer, another bonus feature is a 21-minute behind the scenes – err – documentary? Ariauna and Elissa lounge around the living room between shooting, and Ariauna comments on the hardness of a dildo she is smacked with in the film by the Peeper. That takes up a couple of minutes, and the rest of it is a very shaky camera following Ariauna around a Ralph’s supermarket (she even looks directly into it and smiles at one point as she passes by). Most of the image, however, is of the shelves, the ceiling, or Creeper’s thumb over the lens. Not the most exciting footage. Then they both get into their respective cars, and we watch as Ariauna sits in hers for a while (well, actually, we get to see the back of her car; is that the sound of Creeper’s real impatience I hear during this?), and then takes off. While the camera follows her out of the lot, she makes a left and the car with the camera makes a right. We follow along a few blocks until we get to the house Creepersin grew up in, where they filmed both he and Ding Dong Dead.

While this feels like a one-day project from inception to completion, it is at the least effective, even though I was turned off by the ending. And yet, I still look forward to more work by Creepersin.