Pet Shop of Horrors (1999)

 

Director: Toshio Hirata

Screenplay: Yasuhiro Imagawa

Based on the manga by Matsuri Akino

(Voice) Cast: Masaya Onosaka as Leon Orcot; Toshihiko Seki as Count D; Hiroshi Yanaka as Mr. Hayward; Kouji Tsujitani as Robin Hendrix; Miho Yamada as Q-Chan; Miki Itō as Louise; Mitsuaki Madono as Roger Stanford; Mitsuru Miyamoto as Kelly Vincent; Narumi Hidaka as Nancy; Ryūzaburō Ōtomo as the Kirin; Satsuki Yukino as Jill; Sayuri Yoshida as Alice; Sho Hayami as Jason Grey

A Night of a Thousand Horror (Shows)/A 1000 Anime Crossover

 

Among the many anime adaptations of horror manga I wish had lasted longer, as a one off four episode television production, Pet Shop of Horrors is a good example. An anthology series all centered around a supernatural pet shop, these four tales of “be careful what you wish for” fully commit to bleak endings and introspection as the choices made by the customers with their pets, always breaking the contracts, cause pause for thought as much as means Count D, our ethereal (and cake loving) androgynous anti-hero, is technically not culpable if anyone dies for breaking the rules that Gremlins also warned of in not feeding the mogwai after midnight. This original manga still continued over multiple series, but sadly the anime did not, in real need of another adaptation down the line to expand these tales.

For the full review, follow the link here.

Stephen King's Rose Red (2002)

 

Director: Craig R. Baxley

Screenplay: Stephen King

Cast: Nancy Travis as Dr. Joyce Reardon, Matt Keeslar as Steve Rimbauer, Melanie Lynskey as Rachel "Sissy" Wheaton, Kimberly J. Brown as Annie Wheaton, Judith Ivey as Cathy Kramer, Matt Ross as Emery Waterman, Julian Sands as Nick Hardaway, Emily Deschanel as Pam Asbury, Kevin Tighe as Victor "Vic" Kandinsky, David Dukes as Dr. Carl Miller

A Night of a Thousand Horror (Shows)

 

Well, I’ve never heard Glen Miller out of a flower before.

Unlike other Stephen King adaptations, this is not actually adapting one of the legendary author’s stories to the screen, but is an entirely original tale King himself wrote the screenplay of. This one has some history, in which in the nineties he had pitched a haunted house story to Steven Spielberg, remaking The Haunting (1963), the legendary horror film adapted from Shirley Jackson’s seminal novel The Haunting of Hill House (1959)¹. Spielberg would produce the 1999 remake of The Haunting, whilst here King’s original idea would finally find its form in an entirely original story, a four plus hour mini-series, directed by former stunt man, former stunt coordinator, and the director of Stone Cold (1991), an action movie attempting to launch the film career of American football player Brian Bosworth. Craig R. Baxley would become a regular director of Stephen King mini-series during the 2000s, there is nothing but playful humour in the later reference.

Effectively this does reimaging Jackson’s seminal supernatural novel and original version of The Haunting, if by way of influences in real life. One clear influence is the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, California, home of Sarah Winchester, the widow of firearms magnate William Wirt Winchester. Alongside stories of the mansion being haunted, it was also a building Sarah Winchester had constantly under construction, building mazes and weird unconventional additions to the building which it can be legitimately possible to get lost within.

A college professor Dr. Joyce Reardon (Nancy Travis), with a very liberal attitude to the paranormal, is self funding an expedition to Rose Red, the equivalent to the Winchester House but with a significantly larger body count in its tragic history, and absolutely the example of something so evil you should just torch the place rather than enter it. Deciding regardless of the risk to collect together a group of psychics, she wishes to prove ghosts exists with what eventually develops into the maddened zeal of Captain Ahab and a white whale. Among the psychics brought into the manor is Annie (Kimberly J. Brown), who gets a prologue introducing her, who is a trope in King’s work, that of figures with disabilities or significant ostracization in society possessing unnatural abilities. As someone born with autism myself, I was concerned – with childhood memories of Dreamcatcher (2003), a notorious King adaptation for the silver screen where, alongside “shit weasels”, there was Duddits, a disabled character with unnatural abilities which was broadly dealt even from the perspective as a younger viewer. This was more so the case here as Annie is explicitly depicted as autistic here and could be a misfire. Thankfully it is not the case – she would be on the more severe spectrum in difficulty in communication, not directly communicating with people, acts of repetition which even I do which offer comfort or pure enjoyment (her obsession with Glen Miller, to rearranging dominos, which do not come off as broad. As a character among some broad (and questionable) stereotypes, she comes off well. Even when characters start making more crueler comments on her, as a person who would need to be in care even if her paranormal abilities are more advanced, it comes from when feces hits the fan and it comes clear. As someone ultra-gifted to the point she can rain stones from the sky, placing her into Rose Red, which can use her, was like bringing a nuclear missile to Godzilla, so the tone does not feel insulting but contextually when other characters start to lose it and others have already died.

The broadness of some of the characters here is an issue in other cases. Among the psychics is Emery (Matt Ross), whose pre-cognitive warnings from ghosts about Rose Red are useless when he has all the bills to pay from his mother’s overspending, even if you leave the fridge a bloodbath. His mother herself is a broad take on the domineering mother which you can accuse as being a tasteless stereotype, the large figured and overprotective stereotype with no real point to her but to be a grotesque domineering stereotype. Rather than say, for a good example, what “mother” is to Norman Bates in Psycho (1960), this plays to stereotypes of ugliness which have not aged well. You will also have the surprise that, with an arsehole stereotype of a rational skeptic in Dr. Carl Miller (David Dukes), a fellow professor who wishes to bump Dr. Reardon off her tenure for her “irrational” believe in ghosts, King punts a figure totally opposite for what he has done with Christian zealots. Some may be angry about him, but let us be blunt, Marcia Gay Harden’s Christian fundamentalist in The Mist (2007), one of the more acclaimed King adaptations from the 2000s, was also a broad one-dimensional stereotype, but with the unfortunate reality that too many Christians are terrible examples of their faith, making it more digestible to kick them in the gonads in horror films for many as they are more frequently a problem in modern politics and culture. It posits, the more of King’s work I have grow up with, a family collecting the films and mini-series, and reading his work, that the author just despises holier than thou figures of all types, authority for him delusional, especially as, initially sympathetic, the Captain Ahab comparison is perfect for Dr. Joyce Reardon. He is entirely sympathetic to the psychics themselves, all likable and with real powers among those here, but Reardon’s hair trigger temper on the subject of the supernatural warns that, wanting to prove it, she will sacrifice people and eventually be burnt by the supernatural fire she wishes to claim. King follows a well worn trope in horror, a good one, of the dangers of acquiring unnatural knowledge without realizing the respect and risk than entails with the occult.

The mini-series is a broad, brash haunted house metaphorically, not subtle in the slightest and spooky like a jaunted spooky train ride in four plus hours, split over three parts originally. Aptly the setting is cool, like a great haunted house, including its influence from the Winchester Mystery House in some of the more unconventional sets built, such as an upside down room or the tiny model version of Rose Red in the lounge. A shame is felt that they could have lent on the optical illusions of the location, even on a TV mini-series budget, especially as one of the aspects that Rose Red has is its ability to expand and change rooms to trap victims. A lot of the first half, taking a part before even getting to Rose Red, is bringing up the back-story of the home, which becomes more a nicely ghoulish series of disappearances, deaths and a man choking to death on an apple. Even if there is some violence, and severed fingers, the lack of gore, and only a subtle nod to the morbid and decayed, feels like an actual haunted amusement attraction, especially as the mini-series is ambitious (despite the seams being visible) in using unsubtle CGI for evil statures or bees. The difference is that, as a story, it is a spooky movie allowed to be more fleshed out in its longer length, and that this is a haunted house ride where you get to go with Julian Sands, the British actor arguably the highlight as a likable English psychic who takes to the environment with common sense and white.

In terms of King works, adaptations or original ones, the broad strokes in characterization and wishing to have a complete lack of subtlety in the premise, neither next to The Haunting or the Shirley Jackson source material, are not going to leave it as appealing to the more acclaimed adaptations. The Shining (1980) this is not, and infamous King hated that adaptation and a 1997 TV mini-series properly told the source novel, so what he considers the appropriate tone for a story of a haunted house may not appeal to everyone. Personally there was a lot of fun for me here, in mind to that comparison to a literal haunted house ride than a profound psychodrama.

====

1) Stephen King's Rose Red Was Originally A Remake Of The Haunting, written by Michael Kennedy and published for Screen Rant on March 5th 2021.

Two Orphan Vampires (1997)

 

Director: Jean Rollin

Screenplay: Jean Rollin

Cast: Alexandra Pic as Louise; Isabelle Teboul as Henriette; Bernard Charnacé as Dr. Dennary; Nathalie Perrey as a Nun; Anne Duguël as Mother Superior; Tina Aumont as the Ghoul; Véronique Djaouti as Venus

A Night of a Thousand Horror (Movies)

 

As a film made in the mid-nineties, it befits that French filmmaker Jean Rollin made a film which does not feel of its era at all. As much as I admire the nineties, one part of it is that it can be gleefully tacky as much as rich in great filmmaking. The one thing that is anyway comparable to the trends of that time is that, as many films reflected culture from an entire decade before, Two Orphan Vampires is the same, the opening contrasting postcards of religious paintings, fantasy and fairy tales, part of a work that will nod to advertising art for Houdini and magic shows, fantastical art and even Immoral Tales: European Sex & Horror Movies 1956-1984 (1994) by Cathal Tohill and Pete Tombs, a book which helped praise Rollin's own work alongside other European auteurs in genre cinema who were known for blending erotic and horror cinema together. Here in the autumn/winter of his career, Two Orphan Vampires even if a horror film with blood and nudity feels at odds which what would be expected, as much an art film even against other titles in his career. It is amazing to think you can compare this to the work of fellow French director Eugène Green, of The Portuguese Nun (2009), with his long, almost Bressionian moments of dialogue, dangerously near the precipice of pretentious but ultimately charming and rewarding in being a bit more freer to let scenes play out as far as needed for mood and effect. This in itself will be an acquired taste even for those who can appreciate The Shiver of the Vampires (1971).

At Glycines Orphanage are two girls named Louise (Alexandra Pic) and Henriette (Isabelle Teboul), who one day could see in black and white, and then became blind, adored by the nuns as angels in mortal form. In truth, they are two vampires, who can see when it is at night, and still need to feast on blood. Theirs is a bitter sweet tale as it is clear in the dialogue between them, in their friendship/platonic love with each other, that they have died and reborn multiple times before, fearing the time they will not come back if it happens again. Immediately distinct in their identical clothes and white canes, the two are sympathetic in that, while they need to feed on the living, they are clearly close, engaging in their ponderings on existence, and obsessed with books on Aztec culture and magic while they believe they are reincarnations of the Aztec goddesses. The film is a series of events, ones from their previous lives, able to come back to life after being killed, as well as ones from their new life, as a doctor adopts them and they continue to explore the world around them. They are anti-heroines but in a way close to classic transgressive art of the early 20th century, fitting as they spend a night finishing Georges Bataille's Story of the Eye (1928) at one point, where there is more weight to this film's gleeful undercutting of religion, where they are the perfect pair in the daylight, going to mass and loved by all, but by night are blood thirsty vampires. The fact the film is sympathetic to the nuns, whilst doomed to eventually know their real selves, emphasizes this further They do encounter other supernatural entities, all of which are women, such as a she-wolf in a flashback who haunts a train depot to a female flesh eating ghoul. There is also a brief cameo from Brigitte Lahaie, whose work with Rollin became iconic in the likes of Fascination (1979). Baring the doctor who adopts the leads, there are no male characters in the film barring extras or minor roles, a world as a result onscreen which is frame entirely around who have the discussions on the meaning of life as well as the small dramatic plots. 

Its brief story is more of an engaging character piece, of characters doomed to repeatedly die despite their happiness, both girls having to feed and relishing it, but always at a risk of being caught. Its presentation could frustrate people, but bearing in mind, digging deeper with what Rollin was obsessed by, this is a waking dream of a film crossed with the kind of aesthetics of book illustrations that look exceptional when used in the opening and end credits of the film. It has an atmosphere too, even managing to shot in New York City on the Brooklyn Bridge, famous in horror for Zombi 2 (1979). The bright, vast locations of the day time to the blue lit environments of the night time scenes set up the mood immediately. His obsession with sexuality and sensuality is still there slightly in the vampires' relationship, including the sexual nature of how vampires bite a victim's neck that has always existed in the mythology, but barring two moments or so of nudity, this is quite a chaste film more concerned with friendship. The bonding of Louise and Henriette, at times like teenage girls onscreen, other times very wise and adult in their reflections of the world around them, is the centre piece of the film that, even if it feels languid next to other Rollin films, will be the thing that will immediately win viewers over if they can vibe on its tone.

The film's mind is more on magic and supernatural creatures than carnality of other films of his I have seen, and in mind the film before this, Killing Car (1993), was an odd tangent in his career as a distillation of a revenge thriller and the old Godardian term of a "girl and a gun", this whilst closer to his trademarks still feels idiosyncratic to them. Probably the biggest reason why people could be put off Two Orphan Vampires, if they are not prepared for it, is because this strips away the blood and nudity in Rollin's films and leaves the unconventional plotting, where two vampires get bored of their predicament and do whatever they desire to escape it, presented not as a conventional three act narrative. For me it is nice to go through such an abstract, dreamlike film that paces itself well. The dialogue is all of interest even if it is unconventional at times. It is an interesting take on vampires that does not compromise the mythology while adding new things for its own depiction. The two lead actresses are very charismatic as their characters, to the point that their potential ego in believing themselves to be gods is actually sweet natured and understandable pride in their existence than despairing their "curse", whilst emphasizing the idea of transgression with an old school weight to it when, rather than the horrifying thing in reality, an Aztec blood ritual of thousands to the point blood covers vast stairways is pictured here as a moment of glowing bonding between them. The distinct age fluctuation in their appearance in fact adds a strange air to the proceedings which makes their characters more interesting as well. The directions the film takes make sense - a world of supernatural beings who are methodical and languid, none of the hectic tone of, say, the Twilight films, and most horror films, where two vampires can kill time as best friends for most of the running time.

Nothing feels contrived in the film in what happens, anything odd feeling appropriate for the dreamlike tone. It feels like spending a week with these characters in their immortal lives only with a few deaths at their hands taking place, and the danger they will be discovered and killed themselves adding dramatic tension. It looks good, and even if the score is dated synth for this decade when it is was made, it feels like it is actually from the eighties, the depth of that era's music here to and adding to the material. There is nothing in Two Orphan Vampires that feels amiss, and that Rollin made a film completely against what is expected with these genre tropes is admirable, more so in that he succeeded for me.

Mirror Mirror (1990)

 

Director: Marina Sargenti

Screenplay: Annette Cascone, Gina Cascone, Marina Sargenti and Yuri Zeltser

Cast: Rainbow Harvest as Megan Gordon; Karen Black as Susan Gordon; Yvonne De Carlo as Emelin; William Sanderson as Mr. Veze; Kristin Dattilo as Nikki Chandler; Ricky Paull Goldin as Ron; Charlie Spradling as Charleen Kane

A Night of a Thousand Horror (Movies)

 

Mirror, Mirror is a work which has gained traction - even appearing on Sight & Sound magazine's 100 overlooked films directed by women¹ - and it deserves so with the interest that, whilst the first sequel Mirror, Mirror II: Raven Dance (1994) would be directed by the co-composer/producer of the first film, Jimmy Lifton, this is a franchise that immediately stands out for having women in prominent creative roles especially with its first film, a female director working with a script by women in horror genre. How few female directors in horror cinema, let alone in others, came to be up to the 2000s onwards is not a subject to attempt to brooch here, as it would likely be a long document of possible sexism that should be written by an entirely different person than myself, but this comes sadly with knowledge that Mirror, Mirror is a good film, and that, unfortunately, director Marina Sargenti has only made a few other titles and episodes of television. This is a shame knowing alongside her collaborators onscreen and off it, this takes a concept from an old radio horror program, a cursed mirror, and gives it a nicely fleshed out form within context of peer pressure in high school.

The co-screenwriters Annette Cascone and Gina Cascone are sisters, and authors of the  Deadtime Stories children's horror book series under the name AG Cascone, which perfectly sums up how, with this screenplay earlier on in their horror writing career, the tone of Mirror, Mirror if a significantly more adult and graphic tale in presentation takes a very simple premise and interprets it through the ordinary life of a teenager. A nefarious mirror, possessed by a demon, exists which in the prologue causes a twin to stab her sister to death in 1939. Mary Weatherwood, the surviving sister, practiced witchcraft only to summon the demon, forcing it into the mirror when she realised what she had done. Unfortunately, as with all cursed objects, someone is bond to find it and unleash its horrors in the future, which happens for a single woman Susan Gordon (Karen Black) and especially her teen daughter Megan (Rainbow Harvest), an alienated Goth starting a new life in a new school who appropriates the mirror for her own room.

Obviously, this takes the idea of the horror trope, a cursed mirror, for a stand in for real emotional issues, in this case that she obviously stands out in her new school, and that even if there is a sympathetic voice on her side, Nikki (Kristin Dattilo), Megan is an outcast who is disconnected from her mother and immediately bullied by the popular girls at the school. The mirror, when not creating a hallucination of her recently deceased father to scare her, starts to play off the power fantasy to want to punish those who hurt her. This starts with placating with less deadly if scary acts for her, like a giant endless nosebleed in the middle of the lunch hall, before actual death including being steamed to death in the women's showers transpiring when Megan is in the downward spiral and willingly become complicit in these crimes.

The film even references horror films before in this plot type, even explicitly Carrie (1976) by Brian De Palma, so it is aware of its place in the genre canon, of horror dealing with peer pressure and how schools. With the prim and hyper exaggerated Charleen Kane (Charlie Spradling), the wannabe class president who overdoes the campaign promo with US election day decorations and videos, as the antagonist, school is depicted here as a strange manufactured place where hierarchies and codes that could tragically come into place to hurt those seen as bottom of the pecking order. This is still a horror film in tone; it is incredibly gory including an unfortunate encounter with the waste disposal unit in a kitchen sink, and the scene in the showers, whilst this has to be viewed in an entirely different light from the idea of the "male gaze" from who was making the film, does not hide the human form if noticeably not as salacious as it could have been for an over-the-top sequence. It is however contrasted, befitting its co-screenwriters' later vocation, by emphasis on the tragedy of our lead, who as played by Rainbow Harvest, immediately captures our sympathies even if her leaning in willingly killing people to allow friends to win elections is understandably horrifying. Harvest herself merely stopped appearing in films and television after 1991, with nothing else to add barring which she gracefully walked away from a short career in television movies, television and this film. It is a shame, as she does add so much into the lead role here, especially one the additional tragedy here is that, with the friendship between Nikki and Mega strong until the end, it becomes more a tale of a confused person unfortunately trapped in this scenario.

Credit also has to be given to composer/producer Jimmy Lifton for the synth score. An additional figure, Scott Campbell, contributes a song too, and he adds an unexpected layer to the productions for how his career as a punk musician for the band The Sillies became important in Detroit, Michigan, especially when they were allowed booking of the music club Bookies Club 870 in the late seventies, with the likes of The Cramps to The Misfits among others being allowed to perform somewhere where they would get greater attention². The score itself is old school horror synth, befitting as whilst this is still a drama at heart, it depicts it through surges of phantasmagoria, embracing it fully by its ending bending reality (and bringing the fog machine in) whilst not losing its original point. That it is about adolescence, where mind controlling the popular guy at school to love you is wrong, but comes from the pangs of desire and trying to express it, even if tragically with a body count. I am glad to have finally seen the film, and it is nice to know that, whether their quality next to the first film, Mirror, Mirror did return with sequels with their own stories, Mirror Mirror 2: Raven Dance (1994), Mirror, Mirror III: The Voyeur (1995), and Mirror, Mirror IV: Reflection (2000); even for the first sequel women were in prominent creative slots, and three out of four of them are directed by women, so it is nice to now, alongside the virtues of the original by itself, this became one of those franchises with women in prominent creative and directorial roles, something sadly still not as common place as one hopes.  

 

=====

1) The female gaze: 100 overlooked films directed by women, updated on January 2nd 2022 for the British Film Institute website.

2) Bookies Club 870's Local Wiki page.

Doomed Megalopolis (1991-2)

Director: Rintaro

Screenplay: Akinori Endō, Masayuki and Rintaro

Based on the novel Teito Monogatari by Hiroshi Aramata

Voice Cast: Masaaki Okabe as the Narrator, Kouichi Yamadera as Jun'ichi Narutaki, Kyuusaku Shimada as Yasunori Kato, Gorou Naya as Yasumasa Hirai, Kan Tokumaru as Dr. Makoto Nishimura, Kaneto Shiozawa as Youichirou Tatsumiya, Keiko Han as Yukari Tatsumiya, Ken Yamaguchi as Kamo, Kenichi Ogata as Shigemaru Kuroda, Kouichi Kitamura as Junkichi Amano, Naoki Tatsuta as Torahiko Terada, Osamu Saka as Viscount Eiichi Shibusawa, Takaya Hashi as Noritsugu Hayakawa, Youko Asagami as Keiko Tatsumiya, Yuusaku Yara as Shigeyuki "Rohan Kouda" Kouda

A 1000 Anime Crossover/A Night of a Thousand Horror (Shows)

 

Starting a series of Teito Monogatari reviews over this season, Doomed Megalopolis is the animated adaptation, one of the most explicit in the supernatural and adult content, and a fest for the eyes in terms of anime's phantasmagorical content. For all the years I had only heard of this as infamous for its content, rather than its virtues, it was a huge surprise to watch.

 

For the full review, follow the blog link HERE.

Nikos the Impaler (2003)

 

Director: Andreas Schnaas

Screenplay: Ted Geoghegan

Cast: Joe Zaso as Frank Heller; Felissa Rose as Sandra Kane; Andreas Schnaas as Nikos; Brenda Abbandandolo as Daisy; Joseph Michael Lagana as Pete; Joe Lattanzi as Ryan

A Night of a Thousand Horror (Movies)

 

"Who dresses these people?"

"Probably their pets."

Romania 1002, and I am unsure whether 11th century Romanians would say "crap" but this is a splatter film, one where I will make the blasphemous comparison that, for the notorious splatter filmmaker from Germany behind the Violent Shit trilogy, there is no real different here with Nikos the Impaler and when an auteur like Wong Kar-Wai makes a film in the USA like My Blueberry Nights (2007). The difference is that Jude Law's face did not get ripped in My Blueberry Nights in the first few minutes, as the titular Impaler gets gang retribution against him for all his killing, but the differences are in genre here. I still can see this as Andreas Schnaas paying tribute to American horror cinema in his own way, also playing Nikos in costume, ripping people to shreds and rampaging across New York City

Even with his guts slipping out on the floor, Nikos claims immorality, and even eats his own guts Joe D'Amato style to emphasise this before he keels over before we cut to New York with a guitar solo song to explain where we are. The film is two separate pieces which connect together, one half in the then-modern day explaining how Nikos himself was a Northland barbarian who killed 300 people and hated Romania, even shafted by history itself as Vlad the Impaler came decades later and stole his thunder. A group of students and their teacher – two male slackers wanting extra credit, a girl named Daisy, two elder tourists and a somewhat positive depiction of a gay male couple, alongside the male teacher and his love interest Ms. Cane – go to a Romanian art show where a theft was planned at the gallery. Naturally with the exhibit having  a labyrinth full of old weapons, the botched robbery struggle gets blood on Niko's helmet, and resurrects him, wanting to repay everyone for this with a surprising amount of decapitations and, for a rare example of this, even the full severing off of someone’s face.

A ultra low-budget splatter film, with static early 2000s aesthetic but definitely shot in New York City, what this turns out to be with hindsight is what Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989) was supposed to be but this outdoes. Jason Takes Manhattan was the last film of the original Friday the 13^th franchise, before New Line Cinema acquired the rights and made Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (1993), which notoriously promised to have Jason in the Big Apple. Only has a couple of scenes were shot on real locations and is mostly set on a boat. I like the film, but a large portion of Nikos the Impaler is in the gallery, but once it gets to the second half, this is clearly shot in the city and Long Island. Set to eighties speed metal throwbacks, and obvious but effective practical gore effects, this starts as a traditional gorier slasher but becomes a more elaborate take on Jason Take Manhattan with far less restrictions with what it could do, both in stealing shots across the city to the ridiculous number or the number of gory head trauma deaths.

It is also a tribute to cult American cinema and a really good snapshot of what indie American genre films were like in the time period – clearly set in 2003 with posters of Crossroads (2002), the Britney Spears star vehicle, a video rental shop selling Jason X (2001), the Friday the 13^th film set in outer space, alongside The Sum of All Fears (2002), and a reference to “that wizard Larry Potter kid”. Like the wave of German splatter films from the eighties on, you see figures, recognisable or for viewers of niche fringes of low budget genre cinema, appear in this. B-movie actress/filmmaker Tina Krause makes a cameo as Eva Braun, which will be explained later in this review, and there is an extended scene, playing themselves, of a group of figures in the video store connected to Troma Films, from an actress from their films Debbie Rochon to Troma figurehead Lloyd Kaufman himself, naturally selling his own films, wearing a dapper bow tie before he is killed and truly being the Stan Lee of cult cinema. One very obscure figure, but a great nod to this era of straight-to-video cinema from this cinema, is also the cameo of Darian Caine, a regular of softcore erotic films from this era, like The Erotic Witch Project (2000), even if it is just for a gratuitous shower scene.

Even if using a gym and a cinema among places, Andreas Schnaas was filming on real locations here, a production where people onscreen worked behind the camera, and clearly made for the love of filmmaking. A set pieces running into an all-women's gay bar searching for a man uses an actual bar for the location, and the end even recreates the iconic shot from Zombi 2 (1979) with Nikos on the Brooklyn Bridge. They even managed to acquire an aerial metropolis shot, if brief, which shows a lot of care and effort into the film which is a grab bag of splatter and humour. Even when there were clear limitations as a low budget film, I admire the achievements; there are also times you need to realise with films like this, once you come to this type of cinema, that their pleasures comes from admitting their practical limitations. Case in point, when a sword able to shot lightning briefly appears, obviously you have to use CGI as here because you cannot explode a car in the middle of New York even in guerrilla filmmaking.

It is an indulgent film, where Andreas Schnaas can mock his own production Zombie '90: Extreme Pestilence (1991) but can have it screening in a cinema in one of his films, yet I can respect this because there is a level of unpredictability here without padding. Random ninjas can be seen, you can suddenly have German rap metal in the score, and whilst Adolf Hitler abruptly makes an appearance, summoned alongside figures from the director’s own films from DVDs in a rental store, the German filmmaker just makes this a way to mock the dictator, Hitler complaining he is not in charge and promptly getting exploded for talking back. For those with the taste for these films, it is one of the most ambitious in how, in a foreign country for him, Schnaas still made a film that was not comnpromised and packs a lot into itself. A level of commitment too that is visible here is enough to be admired, and this even shows levels of commitment few films have as, whilst starring in their own film is one thing, most filmmakers have never sung on the power metal song about Nikos as Schnaas does here, which is a new level of dedication especially as he does a credible power metal vocal. Neither for its gore either does it feel repugnant either but actually fun for all its gruel, like Herschell Gordon Lewis films, which is the most rewarding thing. Nikos the Impaler is the kind of film you would point blank dismiss for being nasty for the sake of it, and being a series of tangents into gore scenes, but somehow knowing there is a dedication to Fanni the cat in the end credits, one of the last ones, does emphasis the makers of this were ordinary people who just got together to make a spectacle like this. With mind of how no and ultra-low budget films are being re-evaluated and preserved, Nikos is a good one to have a second life from if for the fact that, to try to sell this for an imaginary Blu-Ray restoration, this takes what we wanted from Jason Takes Manhattan, actually achieves it and adds far more gore, more personal creativity, more playful humour, and a comical amount of head based trauma into the proceedings.

Games of the Abstract: House of the Dead - Scarlet Dawn (2018)

 

Developer: Sega Interactive

Publisher: Sega

One to Two Players

Arcade

 

When The House of the Dead 4 (2005) seemingly closed the door on Sega's horror light gun franchise - barring the spin-off by British developers Headstrong Games, The House of the Dead: Overkill (2009) - one should have realised like a corpse that refuses to rest in the ground, or a mad scientist refusing to stop trying to evolve humanity, House of the Dead would thankfully return. Thankfully, whilst a few intellectual properties have sadly seemed to be ignored by Sega, there was the advantage that light gun games were still found in arcades, and they brought it back with a swanky Unreal engine look.

They however decided to continue the franchise's narrative, which is a distinct touch, a full blown follow up thirteen years after the fact, factoring in parts four and The House of the Dead III (2002) in its narrative. Scarlet Dawn beyond this is pretty simple however; Thornheart, following on from the antagonists from those previous games, wishes to evolve the species but creates zombies, unleashing them on a party of guests at his mansion and causing mayhem. Within this guest list were AMS agent Kate Green and Ryan Taylor, the brother of her late partner and mentor, James. The result is House of the Dead not losing a beat from part four in how the ridiculous it is in a good way. The visual boost since the game before does need to be addressed, as Unreal Engine 4 from Epic Games is used for this production, adding a marked improvement on some of the slightly generic environments and set pieces House of the Dead 4 had for its virtues.

The first opening stage shows the delirium, and how much the technology behind the game has upgraded in the decade past, where a literal horde of zombies ransack a dinner party, causing so much chaos that attempting a helicopter rescue is pointless when the undead can just pile onto each other and pull the vehicle down on mass to crash whilst indoors. With the building about to explode and up in flames, that is the "Prologue" level before you reach the main game, able to choose the first three levels in any order, and then the final one. Some moments, just to give an idea of the production value for the game, will even lag like this was a bullet hell shooter from the nineties, the game running with this boost in graphics and allowing for them to also fill the locations with both elaborate production value, but also a significant larger amount of enemies onscreen at one time on mass. The use of "Extreme Sound", the gimmick which you can turn on and off, seems far less important than this.

Able to choose two secondary weapons per level, from shotguns to laser cannons, with special events providing the needed weapon for convenience for set pieces, Scarlet Dawn is over the top. You pilot a quad bike and hurtle through one section, blowing the vehicle up in the end. You fight a squid monstrosity as a boss, gunning its tentacles. There is inexplicably, among enemies like emancipated husks to muck people in the water, a parody of musician Slash from Guns 'n Roses as an enemy type, a hulking zombie in a top hat, purple vest and armed with a v-shaped electric guitar, only the strangest above the ones dressed in nice sweaters like Ned Flanders or Mr. Rodgers you see frequently. It is lovely to realise, reflecting that whilst Sega had to focus over the 2000s and 2010s on bankable franchises, they still had a moment like this where you could still see their eccentricities and charm onscreen, literally at one point in a fire fight with a gargoyle boss where you need to use fire extinguishers on top a gothic castle. Not much has changed either since the older games barring automatic reload, which on the machine gun peripheral is both a concession for the player but still leaves delays in the reload where you can be caught defenceless, which is interesting in reducing a mechanics which is synonymous to the genre, but for non-gamers could be a struggle to get, and is itself a new hurdle to now plan around. Nothing else about the game style was broken previously, here just taking what worked perfectly before, and with the significant visual improvements and using the technology to boost the production value, where it is literally swarms of zombies at times you have to clear through on multiple screens.

The decision to keep the story alive from before, linking previous antagonists as colleagues, is something to also respect, basking over their tombstone monuments in the final stage before returning to our new antagonist. If the final boss is far easier than part four, it is contrasted by the epic nature of the conflict, to the point it enters into a demigod threatening God to literally strike them down with lighting as a giant necropolis entity. ([Spoiler] And they get struck down with a help of a metal rod for emphasis for this symbolism [Spoilers End]). Multiple endings promise another game to come, but whether that does arrive or not, it was a pleasure to witness this machine in action.