Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Entity(1981)d/Sidney Furie

The fact that nothing much is going on in the one-sheet should tip you off...
I hadn't thought much about this entry since seeing it in its first run,only acquiring it at the request of my then-girlfriend who claimed it frightened the shit out of her when she last saw it,sometime in the early 90's(when she was probably like nine years old,mind you).I did not have such fond memories of it.Did we watch the same movie? After revisiting Furie's big screen take on the Frank deFelitta novel,the stale taste in my mouth had returned.I suddenly remembered why most of the movie had eluded me at first mention.It sucked.
I just don't buy it for a second.If I was in the same paranormal situation,being visited nightly by an unseen horny succubus...let's just say there'd be one bottomed out ectoplasmic bitch limping back to hell and asking the dark lord and master for an ice pack and a few nights off.Hell,most of the girls I know would make this otherworldly horndog blush in the first five minutes.I'm just skeptical as to whether an invisible main character makes for good cinematic copy these days.It doesn't help that there's little help elsewhere in the flick to back up the see-thru gent.Whatever scares the filmmakers try and ante up here seem invisible at times,but sadly,I think it's because they just aren't there in the first place.
Women aren't naturally bad drivers,they might just have an invisible incubus trying to kill them while they're driving a vehicle,is all.
Carla Moran(Barbara Hershey)is a single mother of two,living a normal existence in Los Angeles,until one night,while innocently slapping some cream on her gams,she is given the forceful in-out by an unseen assailant.After post-coital investigation turns up no evidence to support this,she wrongly slags it off as a vivid nightmare,until her bedroom violently explodes all around her,causing the frazzled woman to spend the rest of the night at a friend's house.When she returns home,she's given the supernatural high hard one again,this time right as she's drawing herself a bath.The next morning in the car,the invisible force takes over once again,erratically swerving her through traffic and nearly killing her in the process.At this point she seeks out mental help from a psychiatrist named Sneiderman(Ron Silver),who believes the distraught dame is merely physically manifesting her own deep-rooted fear of sex instilled in her through her upbringing.Her harrowing polter-goosings drive her from the arms of her boyfriend Jerry(perrenial cinematic scuzbag Alex Rocco)and to the attention of a pair of nerdy investigative ghostbusters,who offer to try and lend her a hand she can actually see for a change.
Carla(Barbara Hershey)shares some quality alone time with the netherworld's elbow-tittin' champeen.
After the two dorks set up their paranormal pots n' pans equipment at Carla's place,the ethereal incubus only manages to manifest electric energy from the ceiling.But when Jerry later returns,he finds his partner sprawled naked on the bed,her body being pawed by invisible hands,and when he tries to rescue her,her son misconstrues his attack on the ghostly being with a chair as an assault on his mother,when he clobbers the poor girl in the head with it instead,in mid-spirit fuck(!).At this point,the two ghostbusters call in reinforcements,who set up a roofless replica house in a high school gymnasium,arming it with huge tanks of liquid helium to freeze the spectral rapist in his tracks,since he can move physical objects,and therefore must have some semblance of physical mass himself.Sneiderman makes a mad dash to save Carla before their experiment plays out,but is taken into custody,and forced to watch the whole thing from the sidelines with the parapsychologists and the military.The incubus shows up and tries to do in his earthly squeeze with the helium spray nozzles,and ultimately exploding the tanks themselves in a vulgar display of power,emptyheadedly freezing himself in a mountain of solid helium,which he bursts out of in an even more impressive and vulgar display of power.At the tail end of a very long and drawn out two hours,Carla finally moves her family to another city,when titles roll,telling us that her attacking apparition still scores with her from time to time.
"If we magnify this corner of the photograph,we might be able to make out something happening(but I doubt it)."
The perpetually plain Barbara Hershey breaks out her own real sweater puppies here,and also pops her head out of a hole in the bed with an unconvincing nude latex body designed by Stan Winston(!!) to move on its own,as it were being groped by invisi-mitts.Not his proudest FX moment,I'm sure.Hershey remains very busy on the acting circuit,though I only really dug her in Boxcar Bertha(1972) and Falling Down(1993).They could have cast a hotter chick,I'm saying.The whole story is allegedly based on the real-life ordeal of Carla Moran,who may or may not still get poked by a poltergeist.If so,at least one of us is scoring some regular sex.Good for you,sister.Personally,I felt the whole thing dragged along,clocking in at over two hours,with precious few hump-scares to mention.You may get an unintentional chuckle from the spectre boobs,or the Charles Bernstein-composed incidental rock guitar rape score,but you probably won't.Hideo Nakata plans to remake this mess,and that's really all it needs to be permanently cemented into dragsville:Japanese genital-fogging.The scale's rating this time around materializes as a disappointing:
If you're looking for massive frozen helium mountains exploding in a gymnasium,then look no further.


Balberith said...

Especially after talking about you wearing out a succubi the other day, I think we need to produce some kind of porno or something because this idea is hot. Carla should have taken her lovin without complaint haha.

beedubelhue said...

I can see the tagline now..."This horny she-devil picked the wrong pair of pants to materialize inside!"I grew up across the river from the Smurls,the family who claimed to be tormented by succubi and poltergeists back in the eighties,and when the father Jack went public with his "horror stories" all I could think was...what a friggin' whiner!Complaining about rough,demonic sex when some of us out here would welcome that shit with open arms!Hahaha

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sildenafil said...

I hate all these crappy b movies: it's always the same cliche terror history full of scenes that barely causes goosebumps ...pathetic.

beedubelhue said...

Don't let your erectile dysfunction spoil your outlook on genre movies,buddy.


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