I’d Love To Turn You On At The Movies #214 - Maniac Cop (1988, dir. William Lustig)

            Though I am starting to come around on horror films lately, as I’ve mentioned in previous columns, horror and slasher films have never really been my thing. Even in the ‘80s and ‘90s, when slasher films seemed to be oversaturating the VHS release market, I never managed to stumble across any that I really loved. I was always more of a comedy or action flick kid myself, and one of my favorites when I was that age was a buddy cop film called Tango & Cash. To this day, I love that film, its stars Kurt Russell and Sylvester Stallone are both in their prime, fighting a parade of drug kingpins and ex-cons. One of my favorite antagonists from this film was a character named simply Face. He has one memorable scene in which he comes out of the shadows to square off against a trapped Tango and Cash. When he does, it is revealed how aptly named he is. Face, played by character actor Robert Z’Dar, has a tree-trunk neck, atop of which sits the equivalent of a Goodyear tire with a face on it. He’s got the biggest, squarest jaw you’ve ever seen and he is built like a wall made of cinder blocks. Of course, Tango and Cash felled him with one punch and the scene was immediately over, but as a kid, I NEVER forgot that face. I would occasionally see Z’Dar show up in other films (always playing scallywags villains and ne’er-do-wells) and it was always to my sheer delight.
            This review is not about Tango & Cash, though. Over a decade after my first cinematic encounter with him, Robert Z’Dar moved to my hometown of Dubuque, Iowa where I would run into him quite often. Over the years, I got to know him pretty well. He was always regaling my friends and I with stories of his time in show business and was never unwilling to answer anyone’s questions about his career or acting in general. He was active in our community and, when his health would allow it, was seemingly always working, acting in new films or producing new films. He was one of the nicest, most pleasant people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’m proud to have been able to call him a friend. Sadly, Z’Dar passed away in 2015 while attending a comic book convention in Florida. But his impact is still felt in my hometown to this day and he is dearly missed.
            One thing I didn’t know about Z’Dar when I first met him was that his hands-down best-known role was that of Officer Matt Cordell in the 1988 cult classic slasher film Maniac Cop. Come to think of it, I probably missed a lot of awesome horror films over the years because of my abstinence from that particular genre. But again, I am coming around and starting to catch up. That’s neither here nor there. Back to Maniac Cop. I just wasn’t familiar with it. When I finally did see it, I was mad that I hadn’t seen it sooner. It’s since become one of my favorites. Director William Lustig had already established himself deep within the slasher genre with 1982’s Vigilante and 1980’s Maniac. What sets Maniac Cop apart from many of the other slasher films of the era, to me, is that it is also kind of a pulpy police drama. It stars three of exploitation cinema’s most recognizable faces: Bruce Campbell, Tom Atkins and Richard Roundtree. Atkins plays veteran detective Frank McCrae, who is investigating a rash of seemingly random murders by an unidentified “boy-in-blue.” McCrae eventually traces the crimes to Officer Matt Cordell, a once clean, uncorrupted cop who was sent to prison on some trumped-up charges. While there, Cordell is jumped by a throng of inmates and was thought to have been murdered. Evidently back from the dead, and with the help of an ex-lover (Sheree North) who works in the police records department, Cordell is not only out for revenge, but out for blood. In his quest for vengeance, Cordell also kills the wife of rookie cop Jack Forrest (Campbell) and sets Forrest up to be the fall guy. McCrae tries to explain his theory to his superior, Commissioner Pike (Roundtree) to no avail, as Pike and just about the rest of the NYC police force, are convinced that Forrest is the maniac cop. Now its up to Forrest, McCrae and fellow officer Therese Mallory (Laurene Landon) to clear Jack’s name and stop Cordell.
           If anything, Maniac Cop (and its two sequels) puts a unique spin on a mostly played-out subgenre. Lustig and screenwriter Larry Cohen put the supposed good guys in the antagonist role, creating an air of paranoia for citizens and other police officers alike. Add to this the motive of revenge due to a system that unjustly imprisoned and innocent man and the gritty back drop of 1980s New York and you have the makings for a refreshingly good horror-action flick. R.I.P. Bobby Z.
            - Jonathan Eagle

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #139 - The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986, dir. Tobe Hooper)

In 1974, director Tobe Hooper released The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, a nightmarish and intense horror film about a family of murderous cannibals that, with a budget of less than $100,000, raked in over $30 million in the U.S. alone and now stands high on almost any list of the all-time great horror films. Despite the film’s reputation (and title) its on-screen violence is actually quite mild – the makers had hoped to secure a PG rating – with the very effective result of leaving the more brutal aspects of the film’s violence to the viewer’s imagination. Hooper has long insisted that the film is a dark comedy, but because of the harrowing intensity that ended up earning it an R rating it can be hard for some viewers to laugh – except maybe as a release of tension. The success of the film lead Hooper and his co-screenwriter to start thinking up a sequel, but it kept getting back-burnered, shelved, and otherwise delayed until Hooper scrapped his initial sequel idea, connected with the producers of the notorious Cannon Films, and brought on a new screenwriter to create The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2.

For some reason, this film is decidedly less well-liked by most than the original. Not me though. Situated right in the middle of the 80s as the slasher (and sequel) era was giving way to some great horror-comedy (Re-Animator, Evil Dead 2, Return of the Living Dead, etc.) and featuring a promotional poster that mocked the then-hot film The Breakfast Club and bore the tagline “After a decade of silence… the buzzz is back,” the sequel seemed poised to be a worthy box office draw honoring the original classic. Add to this that it also utilized the talents of screenwriter L.M. Kit Carson (star of the 60s underground hit David Holman’s Diary, writer/director of the Dennis Hopper semi-documentary The American Dreamer, and writer of 1984’s Paris, Texas) and brought original director Tobe Hooper back into the fold along with actor Jim Siedow (reprising his role of The Cook from the original film). Carson took the comedic subtext of Hooper’s earlier film into something that openly satirized things that Hooper had been implicitly referring to – the Vietnam War (and now, its aftermath), The Cook ranting about how hard the competition is in capitalism for a working class chef, and so forth. Both are subtext in the 1974 film but very much on the surface here. And where the performances of the original strove for documentary-like realism, here the murderous family (plus Dennis Hopper as the avenging angel Lefty) are portrayed as over-the-top, seemingly designed solely to bring chuckles – or at least incredulity – throughout. And then there’s the blood – lots of it. This being the 80s, Hooper enlisted special effects master Tom Savini to provide the requisite amount of gore for the film (in addition to subtler work, like the aged face of the 137 year-old Grandpa), distributed in an equally over-the-top show to match the unhinged performances on tap.

And yet – even with its decidedly unrealistic tones, even with its over-the-top gore, even with its satirical flair, the film manages to be nearly as unnerving as the original. And that’s mainly due to our central character, the radio DJ Stretch (Caroline Williams in a mostly thankless role). She’s a late-night DJ who unwittingly overhears a murder by the family and is subsequently stalked by them. Her down-to-earth performance grounds the film from flying off into becoming the “geek show” that Roger Ebert (who hated it) saw in it. When she’s in danger, we’re scared. When a couple of the family members visit her at the radio station, it’s terrifyingly creepy. As the film progresses and she tracks the family to their underground lair it becomes something of an amped up remake of the first film’s climactic scenes (and a flash forward to Rob Zombie’s far less effective homage, House of 1000 Corpses), in which she’s imprisoned, tormented, and tries to escape while pursued by the chainsaw wielding killer Leatherface and his deranged brother. It’s easy to laugh it off if you want, but if you let it the film gets under your skin and becomes nearly as effective as the blunt nightmare of the original film.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 was plagued with issues during its creation – money to make the film ebbed and flowed with the fortunes of producers Golan and Globus of Cannon Films (a low-budget studio that’s the subject of the entertaining documentary Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films). Hooper delivered a film he figured was in line with the violence quotient of the day but was slapped with an X by the ratings board, choosing to release the film unrated which lead to its distribution being severely hampered in the process. So in the same year that the utterly mediocre Jason Lives: Friday the 13th Part VI managed to draw nearly 20 million out of the pockets of filmgoers, this one – with intelligent (if not exactly artistic) ambitions – barely scraped out enough to make its budget back and make a few extra bucks. Dennis Hopper – right then in the middle of a run of films that included an Academy Award nomination for Hoosiers and other honors for his role in Blue Velvet – is alleged to have said that this was the worst film he’d ever been in. By contrast, Bill Moseley, who had the role of Leatherface’s brother Chop-Top, has named the role as his favorite of his own. I’m definitely in Moseley’s camp – not only does he turn in a truly effective performance, the film as a whole finds the perfect pitch of dark humor and nightmarish terror and stands as one of the highlights of 1980s horror/comedies.

-         Patrick Brown

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #125 - An American Werewolf In London (1981, dir. John Landis)

I love horror movies. To me, there is nothing better than the original Universal version of Frankenstein. It combines the best elements of storytelling, make-up, acting, music, shadow and light to create an unexpected, synergistic element of the unknown. It gives flesh to the promise of cinema in the first place. Unfortunately, when we moved into the color age, and the expectation for ever-more explicit thrills advanced, the art of fear became the act of shock, and much of the appeal of horror went away – at least for me. The modern era has exchanged fright for torture. Watching one human inflict carnage upon others is a different thing than jumping at shadows. It loses the element of fun. While An American Werewolf In London director John Landis does succumb to modern bloodlust, he also manages to make a classic horror film that is hilarious and both honors and advances the genre.

The story begins with two American college students starting a hitchhiking trip of Europe on the moors of Scotland. The action begins almost immediately as they get lost, attacked by a wolf, and one of them is killed. The other, unknown TV actor David Naughton, wakes up in a hospital in London. He is being attended to by a suspicious doctor (John Woodvine) and a gorgeous nurse (Jenny Agutter). He is tortured by horrifying dreams and then he is repeatedly haunted by his decaying dead companion (Griffin Dunne), who warns David that he was bitten by a werewolf and that he would now turn into one himself when the moon is full. This is all in the first 20 minutes of the film. Landis does not screw around. He gets right to the heart of the matter. Before you can say lycanthropy our hero has entered into a love affair with the nurse, is staying at her house, and finds himself alone as the full moon rises. And then comes “the scene.” There are some moments in film history that are so completely new and groundbreaking that they not only define that particular film, they actually come to represent an entire genre. In full, clear, neon light, David strips his clothes off and the camera does not flinch or look away as his body starts to stretch and change in front of our eyes. Hair sprouts from his torso, his limbs morph from arms and legs to haunches and paws, and in a final horror, his face stretches into a muzzle as he becomes a howling hellhound. It is an absolutely amazing scene, and even though 35 years of filmmaking has passed since this film was made, this scene has not been bested. It is a testament to make-up genius Rick Baker’s lasting impact on the genre. Baker represents the last great make-up innovator (the DVD comes with several excellent featurettes about Rick Baker and the special effects processes he pioneered). Shortly after this film, computer generated effects became the de facto method of showing the impossible and something very special about the art of film was lost. But that was AFTER this movie.

For the remainder of An American Werewolf In London however, we are treated to one thrill after another as our hero runs amok in London, killing people, and letting us see exactly what it would look like to have a real monster, fully lit, in a modern city. It is a true thrill. A scene in a deserted tube station is as genuinely chilling as any I can think of. The movie leads to its climax as David finds himself back in human form, sitting in a pornographic movie theatre, once again talking to a now skeletal Griffin Dunne, while a ridiculous porno plays. It is truly one of the more uproariously funny and surreal scenes in the horror genre. The scene ends with the inevitable, however, as David, once again goes through the transition, and wreaks havoc in the movie theatre and then moves out into a mobbed Piccadilly Square for the film’s climax.

All the boxes get checked with this film. It is fabulously entertaining, provides real shocks, breaks new ground and simultaneously pays tribute to the horror tradition. Director John Landis strikes the perfect balance between star-struck fan boy and seasoned insider, making the monster movie he – and we – always wanted to see.

- Paul Epstein