Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Birdemic: Shock and Terror

So I admittedly didn’t want to write about this one, in fact I said I never would – but I’m a pushover and people complained to me so I’m going for it. Birdemic: Shock and Terror is a “cautionary romantic thriller” that was written, directed and produced by misogynist creep and child exploiter James Nguyen (pronounced something like nwin). I don’t want to spend much time on this review because the movie is a complete train wreck - and that’s coming from a guy who had nothing but praise for a movie about evil marshmallow fluff from space. I’m going to let the trailer do most of the work for me. When watching this baffling pile of garbage, I want you to keep in mind that this is lifted directly from the movie. Nothing was edited. The sequence of shots is EXACTLY the same in the movie. (Also turn your volume DOWN)

Looks like someone pirated a copy of KidPix. You may have noticed that some birds are dive-bombing and exploding; it’s best to ignore this as it never gets explained, explored or even mentioned. But it does lead to one of two conclusions about Mr. Nguyen: either he anticipated that the audience would ignore or just roll with the idea, or he believes exploding to accepted bird behavior.

You may be surprised now to learn that this is a special-effects driven movie. The seagulls you watched inexplicably hovering and spinning and dive-bombing with bizarre broken movement is the apex of what Birdemic has to offer. This is obvious to me, however, since I’ve sat through this colossal atrocity and can rule out plot and dialogue as redeeming factors.

I stated before that this movie is “cautionary”. It’s a warning for those of you who think Global Warming is no real threat. As Mr. Nguyen sees it you’re dead wrong. He asserts that Global Warming could send birds into frenzy, blowing up gas stations, attacking people in cars and generally soldiering violently against environmental corruption. This, of course, is fucking batshit insane. I hope you don’t need me to explain why, because I’m not going to waste my time – and my time is worthless.

The one compliment I can give Birdemic is that it’s unique – and it has received praise for this. But then, that's not really a compliment. I mean, being bent over a pickle barrel and raped by Donkey Kong can be chalked up as a unique experience, but it’s by no means pleasant.

So if you’re an unbalanced masochist, see Birdemic: Shock and Terror. Hell, see it twenty times, go to town. But for everyone else, avoid it at all costs.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Slime City

I’m shocked that I’ve never even heard mention of this one until now. It epitomizes everything I love about 80’s horror. It’s a movie that’s completely aware of its tongue-in-cheek cheesiness, never holding back on the blood, guts, and oozing pustules. In all respects goes as far over-the-top as a horror movie can go – prime 80’s excess. Big thanks to blogger and fledgling filmmaker Emily Tomasik, who introduced me to this treasure. Check out her blog, it’s full of neat animation ideas and kooky/adorable monsters that are at the very least tangentially related to this blog.

When we meet Alex, our hero, he is prissy and unlikable. This probably isn’t meant to come through in his character, but I want to make it clear this dude is a total nancy. Everyone in his new apartment building seems to think he’s on the up and up, though. He’s a young artist in a happy relationship with a sweet, wholesome girl; he’s good to his friends, well-mannered; he’s an all-around straight shooter. His new neighbors are taken verbatim out of the book of 80’s stereotypes: We have Nicole, a leather-and-fishnet clad metal chick and Cher’s doppelganger, and Roman, a new wave poet who could easily be recast without notice by a corpse in a Flock of Seagulls haircut. From the get go, they exhibit strange habits: They take their trash out at bizarre hours, and the occasional blood-curdling scream rings out from inside the building.

They seem nice enough however, if a little quirky, to Alex. Roman, who occupies the loft above him, makes nice with our hero and invites him over for dinner. Always open to new experiences, Alex eats the questionable looking green goo that’s set out in front of him and polishes it off with a tall glass of iridescent elixir brewed by a long-since-dead alchemist. Later on, in an elixir induced stupor, he slips out of Roman’s, shuffling toward Nicole’s apartment. Approaching her, he succumbs to lust and engages in a few seconds of really uncomfortable looking dry-humping before slipping into unconsciousness. He awakes from a lucid dream state confused, irate and covered in mucus. After stumbling out of bed and wandering through the city, his mood only intensifies and the mucus situation worsens. Urine-colored slime oozes out of pulsing blisters on his forehead and chin, his body is entirely glossed over.

The make-up and effects are top-notch. To reiterate a point I keep making: you can argue that the style of this era’s gore movie make-up doesn’t look realistic, but then you’d be missing the point. Ultra-real CG gore ends up looking more sterile, less stylized and certainly less obscene, so what’s the point? It’s utterly tame compared to the vomit-inducing splendor of Slime City. When done right, gritty make-up driven gore can turn obscenity into an art form: this is achieved in the film’s totally fucking gross final scenes.

The other aspect of Slime City which I adored was its humor. Whether you believe it to be an unintentionally botched attempt at making a proper horror movie or a well-executed camp masterpiece, you can appreciate the off-beat humor the movie offers. I’m more toward the latter; I’m certain the film crew were fully aware of the cheese, whether you’re talking about the fumblingly awkward acting in every murder scene, or the obvious use of hot dog links as intestines. In a similar vein to Street Trash, Re-Animator and the Troma legacy, Slime City features so much low-brow grit and repulsiveness that it ironically becomes high-brow, esoteric humor. It’s certainly something to appreciate - this brand of humor is exclusive to these kinds of “serio-comic gore sagas”.

The green substance and the elixir turn Alex into a psycho killer; they’ve caused him to enter into a vicious cycle of depravity, murder and slime. Alex is hopelessly hooked on the stuff, though – in fact, he reveals with a wicked grin “I like what’s happening to me.” When watching, it’s easy to see that on a deeper level this movie is making a statement on drug addiction and the dark avenues it can rapidly send a perfectly good person down. And though it makes sense, just as Friday the 13th can be seen as a statement on abstinence, it’s not necessary to consider. These kinds of movies are generally pretty light on the deep messages - rather than ending in intervention, Alex’s addiction ends with decapitation and brain-mashing. Slime City is less about morals and more about tongue-in-cheek goo and gore. Personally, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Behind the Mask - The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon is an outstanding tribute and dissection of the Golden Age Slasher; films such as Halloween, Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street, which over the past thirty years gave us some of the most iconic killers in horror history. This film, however, is far more light-hearted and humorous in nature, lovingly parodying the genre as it picks it apart. The focus is on Leslie Vernon - heir to the legacy which began with Myers, Voorhees and Krueger - and the three-person news crew documenting his rise as the new supernatural serial killer. Despite his trade, Leslie seems like a warm and approachable young man, fond of magic tricks, turtles and practical jokes. When he talks about his methods, he does so with an innocent smile and a friendly disposition.

“You have no idea how much cardio I have to do. It’s ridiculous.”

“Why so much?”

“…well you know that move where you look like you’re walking? And everyone else is running their asses off? And I gotta keep up with ‘em? It’s tough.”


Leslie invites the crew into his dilapidated home to matter-of-factly explain his legend: He was born a bastard in the town of Glen Echo. It was there that the community roited, allegedly murdering him as a boy by throwing him over a cliff and into a freezing river. He will now return to seek vengeance upon Glen Echo’s people. His upcoming haunting is being meticulously planned about a month before the anniversary of his death, when the local teenagers will dare to stay overnight in the Vernons’ abandoned farmhouse.

Leslie continually brings up concepts which should be familiar to anyone who’s seen a Halloween or Friday the 13th movie. He takes the crew out scouting at the local high school for a prime group of teenagers to terrorize: a few athletes with healthy libidos, the slower-acting stoners who will be good to “pad his numbers” later on and finally the virginal “survivor girl”. He takes the crew on a “fly-by” to psychically torture his survivor girl, sets up a “red herring” by murdering the kindly librarian who befriended her (played by Zelda Rubenstein of Poltergeist in a particularly great scene), and first confronts his “Ahab”, the stalwart hero who is predestined to try and stop him (played by Robert Englund, better known as Freddy Krueger).

Then comes the night of Leslie’s haunting: At the abandoned farmhouse where the local teens have gathered, Leslie decides to part ways with the crew. They have a good deal of footage already and Leslie doesn’t want to deal with the extra baggage while he’s slaying, so the documentary is cut abruptly and without a sound conclusion.

But one of the best aspects of Behind the Mask is the way it transitions in style. Though initially a mockumentary, the film slips seamlessly in and out of the genre it parodies; all of the Slasher conventions that are politely discussed in interviews for the better part of the movie become shockingly real for the news crew when moral conflict forces them to intervene in Leslie’s systematic killing spree.

Though Behind the Mask is intriguing and humorous under its own merits, making it certainly enjoyable to most, I have to highly recommend this movie to any fan of the classic Slashers.