director Marina Sargenti
Yeah, I guess you’d have to suffer Winona Ryder-blindness to not pick up on Mirror Mirror‘s protagonist Megan as a total Lydia and even a little Veronica.
But Rainbow Harvest is more than a proxy and exhibits genuine character in this possessed-mirror-teen-horror-thriller from 1990. Character extends beyond Ms. Harvest and throughout Mirror Mirror, crafting a meaningful portrayal of female friendship amid the vicissitudes of American high school life in the late 20th century.
Streaks of comedy run throughout, peppered with inconsistent satire. Director/co-writer Marina Sargenti’s film may have its shortcomings (its length is often noted), but it captures something much more elusive in the genres it inhabits, it evokes real feeling.
A very non glamorous Yvonne DeCarlo and an oddly wigged Karen Black flesh out the cast of characters around her. But Rainbow Harvest brings it, and her buddy Nikki (Kristin Dattilo) does as well.
director Bruno VeSota
Honestly, no AIP picture ever lived up to any Albert Kallis poster art. How could it? His work is out-and-out gorgeous and amazing.
That said, I actually enjoyed The Brain Eaters much more than many other 1950s Roger Corman productions.
Bruno VeSota directs what even Corman came to realize was a relative rip-off of Robert Heinlen’s The Puppet Masters (he settled out of court).
It’s these little creepy (though rarely pictured clearly) crawlers with tentacles that attach themselves to the back of the neck and start running humans amok. What’s interesting is they’re not aliens but primordial parasites risen back from time below the earth’s surface. And a young Leonard Nimoy (in Methuselah costume) is their leader.
An interesting brain eater viewpoint attack is quite surprising. Was this an innovation or had this POV creature view been done before, crawling along the floor and up onto the bed?
I actually thought this was pretty good and I don’t have a creature attached to my neck making me say this. Or do I?
director David DeCocteau
“Sadomasochism just doesn’t appeal to me.”
Oddly enough, I concur with this sentiment. However, the more cheese than sleaze horror-comedy Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama does appeal.
Big time voyeurism and hackneyed comedy abound in this David DeCocteau mess of puppets, sexuality, nonsense, and limited logic of genre conventions. It’s the earliest of DeCocteau’s films I’ve seen (and most enjoyable), but already many template elements are in play, echoes of which I’ve caught in his later work.
“What about that punk dyke?”
“I can handle her!”
Linnea Quigley outclasses the whole here. Easy to see why she’s everyone’s favorite scream queen and fantasy friend.
director Tobe Hooper
America’s first nuclear family, as the test subjects are called, gives birth to a latent mutant son, some 35 years after their own demise by the titular occurence. Tobe Hooper’s ambitious but not ambitiously budgeted or perhaps able 1990 sci-fi/horror thriller, Spontaneous Combustion, seems kind of personal given the age of the protagonist Sam (Brad Dourif), and his own personal situation in the Nuclear Age.
It’s truly a mixed bag of a film, with so much focus on the set up, that the contemporary story dangles more loosely in time and import. The movie’s unevenness spans production quality, direction and even FX. The FX, gleefully CGI-free vary from weak to pretty cool, and maybe that’s the whole film’s trouble.
Why is it that Dourif only stumbles on his abilities at age 35. Is the trigger his learning of his hidden parentage? Of the cabal around him to hide his origins?
While you might wish for more, it’s still a pretty interesting little picture.
director Robert Wiene
viewed: 09/15/2018 at the Castro Theatre, SF, CA
As a kid, I’d read of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari as being “the first ever horror film” and long desired to see it. It wasn’t until my first film class in junior college that I heard the term German Expressionism and came to realize that term more accurately described the numerous German silent films I had longed to see.
Robert Wiene’s 1920 film utilizes wild, literally Expressionistic set designs to stage the foremost and “quintessential” Expressionist film out there. And initially, I was pretty disappointed that other classics of Expressionism didn’t use as much crazy set-design and make-up as Wiene and company employ here. Much like the poster, it’s as if Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” came to life, in the film the lurid color translated to black and white, chiaroscuro, shapes and forms.
This viewing of Caligari was a special show at the Castro Theatre, accompanied by the Club Foot Orchestra, part of a day-long performance of their “greatest hits” alongside other classics of silent cinema. This was the only showing my son and I hit.
director Peter Medak
Species II tries to make things interesting by flipping the gender of the “specie” humanoid sex alien in question. This also flips a significant element of the original: keeping Natasha Henstridge locked up and clad throughout the bulk of the film.
That said, Species II is pretty big on sex and gore for 1998. The latter of which features a good mixture of digital and practical effects, meaning lots of the practical and a modicum of the less pleasing digital.
Peter Medak delivers what is pretty heartily a B-movie, not exactly Medak’s wheelhouse, but a reasonable journeyman effort. Though not so hot with the occasional slo-mo.
What was with all the product placement and branding (Sprint, Pepsi) on the rocket at the beginning?
director Greg Harrison
I was not feeling Groove. It was not in my heart.
From 2000, Groove attempts the capture rave culture in the San Francisco of its day. But really, it tries to tell a handful of stories about people who go to the rave and how it shapes their experience.
I have lived in SF since 1990, so I had hoped to catch glimpses of the city, perhaps see an aspect of place and time. It starts with the technology of the day: iMacs, PDAs w/styli, that awful modem noise…but it abandons anything that feels truly interesting pretty quickly.
It’s not exactly immersive, though everyone is on drugs (or rather, acting like they’re on drugs). The only authentic vibe is the DJs and the music itself.
Hadn’t this all moved out to Burning Man by 2000?
director Alfred Sole
Alice, Sweet Alice is a vivid, well-shot and well-edited giallo-tinged proto-slasher shot on location in Paterson, NJ. Set for some reason in 1961, the Catholic Church looms large over the lives of a divorced mother and her two daughters, 12 year old Alice (Paula E. Sheppard) and 9 year old Karen (Brooke Shields).
With long brown hair, the girls could almost be twins, but Karen is the pretty goody-goody and Alice, well, she’s got a lot of anger issues. Brooke Shields was a child, but Sheppard, an intense young lady who could pass as a child was 19. The children are all too real, fighting and taunting and cruel and whiny.
Alice shows signs of psychological disturbance even before the killing starts. The film is loaded with insinuated child abuse and its psychological fallout, played out against the backdrop of Catholicism and a very dreary New Jersey.
“This kid is nuts!”
In the end, it’s maybe more brilliant, emotional and lurid, than logical. But Alice, Sweet Alice feels psychologically real and manages shocks along the way.
Three final points:
1. This would make a total double feature with Paterson (2016).
2. You’ve got to read the bio of Alphonso DeNoble, the obese and sleazy landlord. Such a strange and tragic life!
3. If anything, the one movie that this really reckoned of for me was The Bad Seed, in a variety of ways.
director Will MacMillan
How many more “lost” films, so obscure that hardly anybody knew that they were even lost, will come out from the crevices? Cards of Death spent its brief moment in the sun on video in Japan before being re-released and given new life in 2014.
Cards of Death is a moderately high concept shot-on-video 80s horror flick that features levels of sophistication in many areas: story, aesthetics, acting, editing, FX. That this Los Angeles production never got a U.S. release for 28 years is kind of astounding.
An underground club (of sorts) deals (ha!) in death and violence and weirdness, doled out through Tarot poker(?) eventually attracts the attention of detectives. Its heightened oddity started to remind me of a Herschel Gordon Lewis movie.
How exactly do you measure something like this? “SOV masterpiece” was in my notes.
director Larry Buchanan
Creature of Destruction, another Larry Buchanan B-TV-movie re-make of an AIP B-picture original (1956’s The She Creature, in this case), pervades low rent atmosphere. Now, I’m no expert, but and it might not be saying much, but this might be the best Larry Buchanan feature out there.
I’d call it exactly half-decent, if you’re wondering what I mean. Les Tremayne is pretty good as Dr. John Basso, the hypnosis showman who puts his captive/psychic slave Doreena (Pat Delaney) into a state that evokes a primitive fish/reptile creature who starts a-killin’.
It’s not just a gill-man picture in this way but taps into the weird devolution sci-fi sub-genre in which past lives and pre-history is inherent in humans and can be triggered into primordial monsterhood.
Also notable is the Scotty McKay Quintet performing a few numbers. McKay was an obscure rockabilly figure who apparently briefly was in the Blue Caps before going solo and also apparently dying very young. Here, Scotty McKay even gets murdalized by the Creature of Destruction. Ironically achieving vague eternal life through obscure trash cinema.