This Sunday’s repost features John Water’s SERIAL MOM, a cutting satire of sympathy towards serial killers and celebrity culture. It also features an astounding cast who are all in on the joke and they lean so far in that you feel that the camera might tip over.
Given the terrible uptick of interest in awful true crime podcasts — don’t get me started — and Netflix sexy serial killer biopics, it was well-ahead of its time. While it has a lot to say about how outsiders view and celebrate dangerous murderers, it is hilarious and — as Waters always does — manages to balance levity with social messaging.
“On the twenty-third day of the month of September, / In an early year of a decade not too long before our own, / The human race suddenly encountered / A deadly threat to its very existence.
And this terrifying enemy surfaced, / As such enemies often do, / In the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places…”
And after that prelude, we’re thrust into the grimy doo wop of LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS.
Directed by Frank Oz, this is one hell of an immaculately constructed misfit of a musical adaptation of a deviant off-Broadway production. Retaining the original writer Howard Ashman and songwriter Alan Menken — both of whom went onto to craft Disney works that influenced generations — I’m gobsmacked this was ever made. (Allegedly David Geffen, head of self-titled Geffen studios was a huge fan and willed this to the big screen.)
To think that it all started with this oddity of a basement musical based on a Corman B-movie, a B-movie that is mostly only known because it was one of Jack Nicholson’s early films.
(Can you imagine a world without the influence of Roger Corman? I sure as hell can’t.)
The premise is twisted but simple: botany enthusiast Seymour works at a flower shop in Skid Row — a very destitute downtown in an unnamed city full of poor loners and losers — and finagles an interesting plant that he names Audrey II, after Audrey, the co-worker he has a crush on. It turns out that the interesting plant is a carnivorous alien that feeds on human blood. Seymour nurses it into a monstrous creature and matters escalate.
The process of converting a counter-culture work from the stage to screen can be trepidatious, especially when you’re spending a lot of money and working with a major studio. Fortunately, all of the stars aligned for LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS. It features the best of both worlds, which you immediately see in the set design.
“…so I live downtown … that’s your home address / You live downtown … when your life’s a mess / You live downtown when depression’s just status quo. / (Down on Skid Row.)”
While Skid Row does look like a Hollywood set, all flat and confined, the streets and alleyways are covered in dirt and grime and shame. (In other words: Hollywood.)
“Someone show me a way to get outta here. / ‘Cause I constantly pray that I’ll get outta here. / Please won’t somebody say I’ll get outta here. / Someone gimme my shot or I’ll rot here.”
LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS manages to straddle the best of both worlds: it’s wildly, vividly strange and unique and still has the anarchic energy of subversive theatre, but also has so much fucking Hollywood money behind it. (At the time, it was the most expensive Warner Bros. production ever.)
“Come and look at the plant some more! It’s just going to get bigger and more interesting!”
The cast is astounding: Rick Moranis is perfection as dweeby Seymour and has pipes that you never, ever would have expected from him. Ellen Greene as Audrey is the only one retained from the off-Broadway production and I can’t imagine this work without her; the fifties blonde hair, her nasal, high-pitched, breathy — but surprisingly not irritating — voice imbues Audrey with so much character. You are not human if you aren’t moved by her half of Suddenly Seymour. Steve Martin practically steals the show with his sadomasochistic dental practice number. Bill Murray is one of his patients! Motherfucking John Candy is an over-the-top radio host!
“Let me guess: you got tied up.”
“No, just handcuffed a little.”
I’d be remiss to neglect the invincible, untouchable Greek chorus: Tichina Arnold as Crystal, Michelle Weeks as Ronette, and Tisha Campbell as Chiffon. (If you’re of the age that I am, you may remember Campbell as the charismatic Gina from the TV show MARTIN.) They’re all hilariously brusque when they aren’t perfectly performing doo wop accompanied by tight dance routines. They tie the entire work together, and they riff off of a number of prior musical works including WEST SIDE STORY.
“We’re on the split shift!”
“Yeah, we went to school ’til 5th grade, then we split!”
The real star, of course, is Audrey II, voiced by Levi Stubbs of THE FOUR TOPS. His gregarious and dramatic and uniquely pitched voice breathes life into one of the most articulated and astoundingly animated puppets ever created. The amount of work put into Audrey II — willed into the world by veterans of Jim Henson’s puppet company — is astounding. (I’ll note that working with Audrey II required certain compromises from the performers, such as having to lip sync in half-speed during certain scenes. The fact that you can’t even notice that while watching is not only a testament to the puppeteers but also the performers.)
“I’m just a mean green mother, a real disgrace, / And you’ve got me fightin’ mad. / I’m just a mean green mother from outer space, / Gonna trash your ass! Gonna rock this place! / I’m mean and green, / Mean and Green! / And I am bad.”
I touched on the sets previously and while they’re claustrophobic and often constricted, this adaptation is shot with the verve and energy of a Barry Sonnenfeld film, making the most of tight close-ups while also utilizing deep focus to layer background action, and somehow feeling cartoonish but grounded at the same time. Especially of note is how the Greek chorus is slowly revealed — almost as angels — to back Seymour and Audrey when they finally admit their feelings for each other.
Lastly, goddamn, Menken’s songs. They’re all so wildly catchy and captures the hooks of classic Motown while also being subversive in only the way Menken could pen. Once you watch this film, you’ll be humming and haunted by his songs for days and days.
“Shing-a-ling, shing-a-ling-ding, what a creepy thing to be happening! / (Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!) / Shang-a-lang, feel the sturm and drang in the air. / Sha-la-la, stop it right where you are. / Don’t you move a thing. / You better / (Tellin’ you, you better) / Tell your mama somethin’s gonna get her / She better — everybody better — beware!”
I’ll note that the theatrical cut’s final act is wildly different from the Director’s cut. I will not spoil matters, but the Director’s cut is very self-indulgent, cost a fuckton of money, and — even for my goth sensibilities — very cruel and dark. I will simply say this: it is extremely nihilistic and goes full kaiju.
“You’re not gonna get away with this! Your kind never does!”
I appreciate being able to see both cuts nowadays via Blu-Ray, but holy fucking shit, if I’d seen the Director’s cut as a youth? Sheer fucking nightmare fuel.
“I’ve done terrible things, Audrey.”
This is a production that has inspired so many over so many years, and this film adaptation not only does it justice, it also makes the most of the medium while staying true to the work’s roots. It’s a remarkable film that will certainly inspire more for years to come, which is an odd thing to say about a film centered around a blood-thirsty singing plant, but we all find inspiration and empathy in the oddest of places.
Did you have a house in your neighborhood that, whenever October 1st rolled around, it went from being what looked like a normal abode to a creepy funhouse?
When Halloween rolls around they get out their garb and spend a hell of a lot of time crafting some of the finest covers with the most engaging choreography to make the punkiest, gothy videos ever.
As someone who has a significant number of compilations solely dedicated to goth covers of pop songs, I can safely say that they put most of those covers to shame. BROKEN PEACH are endlessly inventive; they take twists and turns when they didn’t need to! I endlessly wonder how they find the time to plan and practice all of this out, while still putting out their own original work, as this feels like it’s on the level of drumcore work.
Granted, over the years I’m sure it has become somewhat easier as they have found their very signature look and uniforms — which I’ll note, they had pretty much out of the gate with their earlier videos — stance, choreography, personality (in a great sort of goth group way), and cadence. However, they’re always upping their game, and I’m always in awe of the results. They’re endlessly engaging, amazingly energetic but still tightly maneuvered, and their production and costume design is so finely tuned. Most importantly? The music always is fist-pumping, boundless fun.
They just released their latest Halloween work, their cover of BLONDIE’s One Way or Another. Please, click their YouTube links to check out their full song history. My personal favorites are Personal Jesus. Tainted Love and Don’t You Want Me and now, of course, One Way or Another, but they’re all great! Also, check out their non-spooky works, especially the soulful automaton-centric video for I Miss You!
It can be difficult to find a fun and enthralling collection of creepy songs that aren’t solely novelty works, but HALLOWEEN NUGGETS: MONSTER SIXTIES A GO-GO fills that void and has been a staple of my Octobers for many years now, and may be perfect for your Halloween party.
It’s a diverse three-disc collection of engaging early 60s fusion and surf and garage rock numbers that are all spooky in their own ways, kicking off with the emphatic and amazingly catchy THE MYSTRS’s Witch Girl.
(Please appreciate the fan video which marries the song with the Soviet witch classic VIY!)
Also featured on the disc? JIM BURGETT’s Jekyll and Hyde, as well as THE WEIRDOS’s languid and sample-and-scream heavy E.S.P. Theme for Shock Theatre.
Disc two features a few staples, such as THE SHANDELLS’s perky and potentially iffy Go Go Gorilia but it has an energetic heartbeat. It also has LEE ROSS’s haunting Johnny Cash-ish The Mummy’s Bracelet.
The third disc contains among many other dazzling tracks, the THE TWELFTH NIGHT’s Grim Reaper!
(These are a few select favorites of mine and I don’t mean to overlook any of the other songs. If I listed off every track I revel in, this post would be thousands of words long.)
Emblazoned by furious brass, sultry back-up singers, hard-hitting drums, and a swinging groove that often will make you sway like Audrey Horne in TWIN PEAKS, this compilation has a little of something to please everyone. It is endlessly listenable and, if you don’t like a song? Wait a few minutes as you’ll probably love the next.
It’s available to purchase digitally — and there are physical copies available — via most outlets but, to make matters easier for you, here’s a Spotify link:
What if I were to tell you that there’s an episode of TV that features Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney Jr. trek out to a Chicagoland hotel to brainstorm horror ideas for a cooperative project?
You might not believe me. It sounds like something a horror fanboy would either pitch, or get their friends together to make a homemade version of said idea.
It absolutely exists. It was an episode of the hit TV show ROUTE 66 entitled Lizard’s Leg and Owlet’s Wing and was the fourth episode of the show’s third season.
PETER LORRE: “What frightened them in then in the dark ages, it still frightens now. Fear is born into people […] And don’t you sell it short, Boris!”
If you are pressed for time, here’s a brief summary: NAKED CITY and THE NAKED CITY TV show creators Herbert B. Leonard and Stirling Silliphant pitched the idea of two younger men — the over-educated Tod and the suave lady’s man Buz — band together and tour the U.S. and picking up odd jobs along the way to fund their efforts. Unlike just about every TV show at the time, each episode was shot on location, turning ROUTE 66 into a weekly U.S. travelogue.
Lizard’s Leg and Owlet’s Wing does take place in Chicagoland.* As previously mentioned, Lorre, Karloff and Chaney Jr. want to brainstorm a project together. Lorre suggests meeting at an innocuous conference Chicagoland hotel ‘The O’Hare Inn’ and they agree. Karloff suggests that they replace their surname with reversed versions of their first name because, sure, that’ll fool everyone.
It just so happens that Tod and Buzz have wrangled a job at the inn as Junior Executives in Charge of Convention Liasons. The job thrills them — especially Tod — as the inn is hosting a large ‘Executive Secretaries of the Midwest’ conference and features a number of attractive women.
TOD, remarking on the number of young women exiting a bus: “What makes you think it’s a convention group?”
BUZZ: “When two or more girls get together and there’s no guy in the group, it’s just got to be a convention.”
TOD: “Buzz, there are things carved in marble with not the one-tenth of content of that last authoritative remark.”
While Tod and Buzz work on wooing secretaries, the three horror maestros finally meet up. Lorre requests a very specific coffin from Tod before Karloff arrives, so he can give Karloff a special reveal.
Tod quickly sees through Lorre’s scheming and suggests that Lorre and Chaney Jr. try their own brand of old-school terror on the secretaries. Chaney Jr. makes himself into one of his classic monsters and matters escalate. Meanwhile, Karloff consoles a secretary who pines for a love who left her.
It’s roughly fifty minutes of self-satisfying indulgence for writer/creator Silliphant but, happily, is also a raucous and memorable crowd-pleasing episode. This might not be the venue we wanted to see all three of these masters together for, but it is a lot of fun.
I rarely link to full episodes, however, if you’re in New York City, you can also watch it for free at the mind-blowing New York Paley Center which is exactly the first work I watched upon my initial visit.
To Chicago residents like myself, there is a difference between Chicago and Chicagoland. A lot of folks who live in Chicago suburbs often say they live in Chicago. Chicago residents often classify those who live outside the radius of Chicago’s L train support as living in Chicagoland.
This is more horror-adjacent, but I’ve wanted to type about this series for some time. My apologies but my blog, my rules!
I know there are a number of folks out there that are disgruntled with season three of ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING.
Is the mystery not all that engaging? Yes.
Is the podcast — the fulcrum of the prior two seasons — severely backgrounded? Yes.
The third season of a show is always trepidatious. The first two seasons of ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING (ONLY MURDERS going forward) are laser-focused on discussing, reflecting, broadcasting and ultimately solving a crime that others cannot.
ONLY MURDER’s third season backgrounds all of that to showcase the characters and their trials and strife and personal dissonance. In my opinion: Fuck the haters.
If you haven’t seen the show before — and trust me, you can jump into this season without having watched the first two, but the first two are fun and smart! — it features co-creator and absolute fucking legend Steve Martin as Charles-Haden Savage who for many TV seasons acted in a crime drama show as Detective Brazzos. Charles spends most of his days in a multi-unit NYC building cooking omelets and keeping to himself. Also residing in said building is one semi-retired Broadway writer/director Oliver Putnam, played by a surprisingly restrained Martin Short, who often interrupts Charles’ solitude. Also in the building is the solitary Mabel, charismatically portrayed by Selena Gomez.
The three of them initially bond over a murder that occurs in the building. They decide to will their thoughts into the world via a podcast, which becomes quite popular. Matters escalate.
As noted above: that’s mostly pushed aside in the third season. This season is all about character work. Charles gets entwined with fish-crazy Joy Martin, the effortlessly delightful Andrea Martin. Oliver gets entwined with talented-but-oft-overlooked actor Loretta Durkin. Somehow they managed to convince motherfucking Meryl Streep to play her, and it’s amazing. Mabel gets entwined with documentarian Tolbert, and actor Jesse Williams? Certainly showing off his blue eyes.
This season centers around Oliver finally getting back to Broadway. He directs a stodgy show named DEATH RATTLE. It is centered around a murder in a lighthouse where three babies are the suspects.
Yes, it is a schlock parody of Agatha Christie’s THE MOUSETRAP. I love Christie, but even I have to admit that THE MOUSETRAP is one of her lesser works (even if it’s the longest running play ever). Tacky TV actor Ben Glenroy, gamely played by Paul Rudd is cast as the lead, and Charles is enlisted as a supporting actor. Ben gets poisoned, bleeding out on-stage in the opening performance. He survives. Then he’s pushed down an elevator shaft in Charles and Oliver and Mabel’s building.
Oliver re-imagines DEATH RATTLE as a musical. Matters escalate, again.
That sounds like a lot of plot and intrigue, but really it’s all about personal interaction and reaction and attempts at growing as people. Sure, narratively that’s not the most propulsive facet to lean on, but I love it.
There are two musical numbers that the season builds up to, solely to hold a mirror to not only Loretta but also Charles. All of the prior preamble? That’s not necessary to enjoy them. The first — Look for the Light — is penned by Sara Bareilles, GIRLS5EVA star and showrunner and the songwriter of the Broadway hit adaptation of WAITRESS. (Seriously, she has all of the accolades. Look her up. She is amazing.) Everyone involved here knocks it out of the park. I especially love the cello swells.
The second — Which of the Pickwick Triplets Did It — is penned by Broadway legends Benj Pasek, Justin Paul, Marc Shaiman, and Scott Wittman! (You can read about them workshopping the song!) It is an astounding piece of patter.
These two performances are so goddamn passionately perfect. There’s a lot going on in the undercurrent that I won’t detail because of spoilers, but to see Streep and Martin do what they love to do brings me endless joy. The fact that it narratively bolsters the show? Icing on the cake.
Every once in a while I completely miss the mark with a film, and I certainly did so with REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA when I first saw it, fucking fifteen years ago.
“Zydrate comes in a little glass vial.”
“A little glass vial?”
“A little glass vial.”
“And the little glass vial goes into the gun like a battery. /
And the Zydrate gun goes somewhere against your anatomy /
And when the gun goes off it sparks and you’re ready for surgery. Surgery.”
REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA (REPO! going forward) musically portrays a BLADE RUNNER inspired dystopian future where massive organ failures wipes out the bulk of the population. The company GeneCo, run by CEO Rotti Largo, facilitates organ replacement and refinement on a payment plan but, if you miss a payment, they’re legally able to repossess organs by any means necessary.
We’re then introduced to Shilo, an extraordinarily pale Alexa PenaVega, the daughter of Ritto’s ex-fiancée and who has rare blood disease. Shilo is overly sheltered by her father Nathan, sinisterly portrayed by Anthony Steward Head. Matters escalate as everyone — including Rotti’s three desperate children, which includes SKINNY PUPPY’s ogHr — work towards their own self-interests.
“Lungs and livers and bladders and hearts /
You’ll always save a bundle when you buy our genetic parts /
Spleens and intestines and spines and brains /
High are our prices but our quality’s the same”
As stated right in the title, this is an opera — a goth-as-fuck rock opera — and has all of the trappings of one: it’s wall-to-wall extremely infectious, emotional goth/industrial songs and Greek chorus and family melodrama.
“My brother and sister should fuck.”
I attended a screening of it at the Music Box as part of the REPO! Road Tour with a post-film Q&A that included director director Darren Lynn Bousman and it grated on me. I found the film sweaty, especially the gaussian blur which felt unnecessarily tacky, despite that it seems to be trying to recreate the look of nitrate film. I did appreciate the moxie of those behind the production, especially Bousman’s efforts which absolutely took advantage of his directorial access to SAW IV’s sets and resources in order to realize REPO!.
“I’m infected /
By your genetics /
And I don’t think that I can be fixed /
No, I don’t think that I can be fixed /
Oh, tell me why, oh /
Why are my genetics such a bitch.”
Upon a recent rewatch, I realized my initial opinion was gravely wrong. Since my first watch, I’ve become a fan of musicals so I was able to greatly appreciate the influence of Sondheim’s SWEENEY TODD, the patter inspired by THE MUSIC MAN’s Meredith Willson, the drama of Andrew Lloyd Webber, the driven emotion of Les Misérables, even the rich history of pirate songs, and a hilariously sick sense of humor. This time around, I saw how it lovingly leaned on the structure of opera and I was here for it.
“DECAF?! I will shoot you in the face!”
I still don’t love the gaussian filter that distracts from the extremely striking makeup and fetish costume design; the Repo Man outfit is especially well-executed. There is way too much exposition, often doled out by finely illustrated comic panels almost certainly included because of budgetary constraints. While I tried to be as concise as possible regarding the plot, this is an extremely dense and ambitious work with all sorts of intertwined conflicts and duplicity and back-story that can feel both overwhelming while also feeling unnecessary.
“How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“That eye thing.”
“These eyes can do more than see.”
“I know. I mean, I’ve seen you sing.”
“Where?”
“From my window. I can see the world from there /
Name the stars and constellations /
Count the cars and watch the seasons.”
With this rewatch, I simply allowed the film to wash over me and I loved it. There are so many great lines and songs in it and when the exposition lets up, it finds a fantastic flow that will leave you breathless.
“Your mother would be proud, rest her soul, would be so proud of you /
Though you cannot see her /
She is here with you /
We will always be there for you in your time of need /
Shilo, you mean the world to me.”
Paul Sorvino’s work here as Rotti Largo is remarkable. He takes it far more seriously than need be given his stature, all sinister and greed but occasionally sensitive, and his voice will blow you away.
“Maggots. Vermin. /
You want the world for nothing. /
Commence your groveling, your king is dying. /
Rotti, your king, is dying. /
Even Rotti Largo cannot prevent this passing. /
Who will inherit GeneCo? /
I’ll keep those vultures guessing. /
I’ll keep those vultures guessing.”
This is a quintessential passion project. It originated as a theater production shepherded into existence by Darren Smith, then a short film from Darren Lynn Bousman, then this astounding feature film. I’ve noted that often music-centric productions — such as the film adaptation of CATS — have a scrappy charm to them. That sort of pluck and charm is absolutely on display here, that exacting belief in the batshitcrazy creation you want to put in-front of people. I was not prepared for REPO! the first time I saw it, but give it a chance. I was deadly wrong about it the first time around and hopefully you’ll revel in its charms.
“Flesh is weak /
Blood is cheap.”
ADDENDUM
The excellent magazine and website RUE MORGUE has an interview with director Darren Lynn Bousman, looking back on REPO! fifteen years after its release. This interview was the impetus for my rewatch and, consequently, this recommendation!
Back-to-back cosmos-enacted zombie horror films! First, NIGHT OF THE CREEPS and now a quintessential take on Los Angeles: NIGHT OF THE COMET!
This is another repost, as Sunday is a day of rest. I’m not religious, but I do think it’s a it’s a healthy action and I will be relying on Sunday reposts here on out because I do need to prepare for NaNoWriMo.
I fucking love this film. It’s a whimsical teen zombie film, witty, surprisingly progressive, vibrant, and has one of the more nuanced sisters dynamic I’ve seen in genre films. It’s brilliant and well-worth your time this month.
NIGHT OF THE CREEPS opens on a darkened spaceship. One alien creature embraces a black experimental canister as it runs from two aliens in pursuit, guns blazing.
“That experiment must not get off this ship!”
Of course, the experiment is forcefully freed from the ship and finds its way to Earth. The experiment? Sluglike things that infect creatures through the mouth and immediately turns the host into a desiccated zombie.
The experiment ends up being unleashed at Corman University and matters escalate, mostly around semi-dweebish Chris Romero and his disabled friend J.C. Hooper who requires crutches, as well as Cynthia Cronenberg, the schoolmate Chris pines for, but a blockhead named Brad stands in the way.
“Sorry, Brad. Don’t take it personal.”
NIGHT OF THE CREEPS (CREEPS going forward) writer/director Fred Dekker has had quite the Hollywood career, spanning close to 50 years, writing everything from HOUSE to THE MONSTER SQUAD to IF LOOKS COULD KILL to 2018’s THE PREDATOR. However, NIGHT OF THE CREEPS feels like his mission statement, his visual thesis for his love of films.
From the knowing winks with a number of character’s surnames being shorthand for Dekkers influences. As noted above, you already have (John) Romero, (Tobe) Hooper and (David) Cronenberg. There’s also Detective Ray (John) Cameron, Detective (John) Landis, Sergeant (Sam) Raimi, and officers (Wes) Craven and (Mario) Bava.
There are also a number of other great inserts, such as Corman mainstay Dick Miller — see GREMLINS 2 and CHOPPING MALL — and all-around horror actor Tom Atkins (the aforementioned Detective Ray Cameron), as well as a mother watching a late broadcast of PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE.
Those who know, know, and horror fans will feel like they’re in good hands.
“Zombies, exploding heads, creepy-crawlers… and a date for the formal. This is classic, Spanky.”
While CREEPS doesn’t quite have the menace or scares it could, that’s beside the point. While it moves surprisingly briskly it’s the characters here that shine, notably Chris and J.C.
“OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD.
“Do you think it’s taking the Lord’s name in vain to say ‘OH MY GOD.’ a whole bunch of times really fast like that?”
“I believe you’re allowed to break the commandments in certain situations.”
J.C. is one of the more positive portrayals of a disabled person I’ve seen from a genre film of the 80s. Genre films of that time rarely featured them or if they did, it was in a ham-fisted, clumsy, and insensitive way. While we never quite know exactly why J.C. can’t walk without the aid of crutches, we do see that he is very self-sufficient and accepting of needing them, and his friend Chris is also accepting and never patronizing. He is a good, respectful friend, although occasionally an unappreciative asshole.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: male friendship is very rarely the focal point of films, and they have an intense friendship. They look out for each other and have each other’s best interests in mind. Early in the film, J.C. is the one who steps up and takes the initiative in order to draw Cynthia’s attention to Chris, while also deflecting her blockhead boyfriend Brad.
“I bust my ass to help you and you get chickenshit again. And I push and I push and I don’t give up. And why? You don’t even know. You don’t even care. Because it’s important to me that you’re happy. Is that so crazy?”
Like many mid-80s genre films, there is definitely a queer subtext here. Hell, it isn’t even really subtext, although it’s never exactly addressed in the film’s dialogue, but, well, just read the following excerpt:
J.C.: “[You] just get depressed all the time like you are. So fuck you.”
Chris: “Yeah, well, fuck you too.”
J.C.: “You try it.”
Chris: “You’d let me.”
J.C.: “You want me to.”
Chris: “You wish.”
[PILLOW FIGHT BREAKS OUT]
Granted, J.C. isn’t ‘swishy’ like how most gay men were portrayed in genre films at the time. However, more than a little of the dialogue indicates that J.C. is definitely queer.
“I walked, Chris. All by myself. I love you. Good luck with Cynthia.”
It is not subtle! I’m shocked that folks argue about this! (That said, I do spend a lot of time reading and writing about queer genre works.)
To reiterate: this portrayal of J.C. is far more sensitive and well-developed than most genre folks penning horror at the time, and still feels positive. Yes, he’s ‘Chris’s queer best friend’ but he also has nuance and heart and feels real.
I will note that there is one way where the film lets us down regarding J.C., but it’s a spoiler, so see below:
Spoiler
Unfortunately, this film does bury its gays. And the disabled. J.C. was doomed from the get-go, sadly.
[collapse]
Setting that aside, Tom Atkins is brilliant as hard-boiled Detective Ray Cameron. He gets some of the best lines and his performance straddles both serious and camp. Allegedly, it’s his favorite film that he’s been a part of, and that’s high praise.
NIGHT OF THE CREEPS is an eminently watchable film, fantastic for Halloween, but also just for everyday viewing. Dekker put his heart and soul into this film, was bolstered by everyone he knew he wanted to see his creation through, and it paid off in every which way.
“Thrill me.”
ADDENDUM
There are two different cuts of this film: the Theatrical Cut, where the ending is very bleak, and the Director’s Cut, which sets up a sequel. Obviously, go with the Director’s Cut. I have no idea why the producers and/or editors thought that the theatrical ending would result in better financial success because yikes. It is an utter killjoy of an ending.
I am someone who considers themselves a horror fan — even though it took me a long time to become one — but there are some franchises I never glommed onto. CHILD’S PLAY’s one of them. I watched the first, maybe the second, and while they never took themselves too seriously, I didn’t find much to intrigue me.
Then I watched BRIDE OF CHUCKY.
Obviously, CHILD’S PLAY is Don Mancini’s babydoll, but it feels like he was a bit tired of the formula after three sequels and thought it was time to shake things up. Consequently, he took inspiration from one the greatest horror films of all time: BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN.
While James Whale’s masterpiece is inferred in the title and, hell, even featured in BRIDE OF CHUCKY, Mancini puts his own spin on it, namely making the bride the unbridled star of the show and leaning into outright horror-comedy.
Jennifer Tilly exudes gleeful darkness and mayhem as Tiffany, Chucky’s prior paramour. She’s been pining for him for a decade and finagles Chucky back to life in hopes they’ll get hitched and live happily ever after. Chucky laughs in her face upon hearing her nuptial dream. Tiffany dumps his ass, locks him up with a wedding-dressed doll, and tries to move on. Chucky gets free, kills her, but she ends up trapped in said doll. The two coerce two teen star-crossed lovers into transporting them across state lines to get Chucky’s talisman which will allow them to escape their plastic bodies. Matters hilariously escalate.
BRIDE OF CHUCKY is far, far more irreverent and cutting than prior CHILD’S PLAY films. There are a lot of winks and nods — including one quip from Chucky noting that, if he had to describe the circumstances that got him where he is now, it would take a movie and two or three sequels — but they all are fun, witty, and hilarious. This is a well-steered lark of a film that entertains on every level: great set-pieces (not one, but two grandiose vehicular explosions), savvy dialogue, imaginative kills, and a jaw-dropping ending.
While Brad Dourif gamely reprises his role as the voice of Chucky, the real star here is Jennifer Tilly. I wouldn’t say that Tilly is underrated, but she is often under-utilized, shoehorned into ditzy, insubstantial characters. (Not always, of course. Watch BOUND!) That’s not the case here. Tiffany has agency. She’s the guiding force here. Is she obsessed with serial killers and death and violence and havoc? Yes. However, she is a lot of fun and she takes no shit, she’s determined, she’s smart and capable and she knows how to get what she wants.
Tilly plays every single facet with aplomb, from faux-seducing her weak-willed asshole goth, to making an overstuffed meal of voicing ‘doll Tiffany’. Without her, this film would be forgettable. With her, it’s iconically memorable.
I need to note that this was Rated Q’s October screening. I’ve previously written about Rated Q but, if you are unfamiliar: Rated Q is a monthly film event at Chicago’s Music Box Theatre, organized by local misfit Ramona Slick. They solely program queer and cult films. Each screening features three drag performances that intersect with the film’s fashion and soundtrack. It’s not for everyone but — for me — it’s a chance to revel in joyous performances and be around like-minded individuals and laugh and grin and feel elated for two hours.
I am noting this because these screenings are my favorite monthly event and I will never shut up about them, but also because usually most folks attending these screenings are extremely familiar with the work. That was not the case here. While exiting the theater, I overheard so many folks exclaiming that BRIDE OF CHUCKY was so much better than they expected; far funnier than they’d anticipated; so much smarter than they thought it’d be when they bought a ticket. Everyone left glowing and happy and elated, and that’s exactly the experience Rated Q — and BRIDE OF CHUCKY — provides.
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