Showing posts with label Sean S. Cunningham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sean S. Cunningham. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

"Last House on the Left"(1972)d/Wes Craven

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I don't go in much for Top Ten lists here at the Wop,as mine,fickle bastard that I am,changes with my mood,so it's rare that we cover anything that would conceivably make my "greatest horror movies" list,but I've been pestered recently to cover one that's always been in my Top Ten,most of the time residing in the Top Five.For someone who prides himself on rare films and unknown classics,my Top list is usually pretty boring,and filled mostly with genre titles you'd guess would be on it in the first place.The reason I rarely tackle those movies here,is that so much has been said and written about the vast majority of them,I doubt I could ever shed any new light on them.Tonight,then,we'll draw focus on one such movie,and dedicate the review to Chelsea,who's arguably the most avid fan of said film in the world,and hope that what follows is acceptable;anyone who's perma-giddy over such dirty cinematic dealings is probably someone you'd want to keep on your good side,right?
Everybody remembers their initial introduction to their favorite things.My future fourth grade teacher was an attractive Greek broad,who dressed like Chrissy Snow from Three's Company,and resembled porn star Desiree Cousteau to a certain degree.I would often stray up to the older grade classrooms and make convo with the teachers over the way the world was going,music,movies,etc.As a pudgy class comedian with a bowl haircut,I made a point to be as socially outgoing as possible,and thus was a favorite among most of the teachers at my soon-to-be condemned grade school.Mrs. L and I were discussing movies one day when we got to the subject of the worst movie we'd ever seen.She answered,haughty and immediate."Last House on the Left.I went to see it with some girlfriends a few years back,and we walked out!These killers cut off a girl's arm...you're too young to see it,and anyway,it's trash!Ha! Ha! Ha!"Naturally,I knew right then and there I had to see it and plotted and schemed until I finally got my chance when it was re-released at the outset of the eighties.You could probably cue some romantic mood music right here...
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Krug(David Hess)pounds his puh-hailus into Sadie(Jeramie Rain)on the open road,while Weasel(Fred Lincoln)plays the third wheel.
Mari Collingwood(Sandra Cassel),who is turning seventeen,is going into the city to see Bloodlust in concert with her free-spirited girlfriend Phyllis(Lucy Grantham),despite some minor protest from her folks,who give her a peace symbol pendant as an early gift.On the way into Manhattan,the girls hear a radio news broadcast that degenerate sex criminal Krug Stilo(David Hess)and his partner-in-crime,"Weasel" Podowski(Fred Lincoln)have made a daring escape from prison,thanks to Krug's animalistic female counterpart,Sadie(Jeramie Rain)and his illegitimate son,"Junior"(Marc Sheffler),who's been hooked on junk by his own father for the purpose of controlling him.Though they might seem like bumbling ne'er-do-wells at first glance,with Krug running the pantsmeat to Sadie as he drives the getaway convertible in broad daylight,nothing could be further from the truth.The girls wander the lower east side,looking to score some grass before the show,and are lured back to Stilo's hideout by Junior,who gets thrown a fix for his handiwork.Phyllis' resistance buys her a good one in the labonza,and then she's raped before Mari's disbelieving eyes.Mari's parents prepare her surprise party back home,obliviously unaware of the hot mess she's gotten herself in.The next morning,Krug and company stuff the captive girls into the trunk of their car before driving into the countryside with plans of fleeing the state manhunt.Ironically,their car breaks down just feet from the Collingwood home,and both girls are dragged into the woods nearby,where,at knifepoint they are forced into lesbianism with each other,after Krug orders Phyllis to piss her pants,which she does,naturally.Phyllis decides to make a break for it,and pays by eating stilleto-inflicted body ventilation at the hands of Weasel,before being graphically disembowled and dismembered.Mari appeals to Junior's last remaining glimmer of humanity,but is thwarted by Krug,who carves his name in her chest and rapes her after showing her Phyllis' severed arm.She stumbles,catatonic and violated,into the lake where Krug finally puts her out of her misery with well-placed bullets.Happy birthday,darling.
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After Phyllis(Grantham)pissed,she and Mari(Cassel)were enlisted for an impromptu sapphic tryst before both junior misses cease to exist.
Krug and cohorts silently wash the blood off in the lake,and change into more formal attire before descending on the Collingwood house psoing as travelling salesmen,unaware that they've just walked into the house of one of the girls they've just brutally slain.Mari's parents serve the fugitives dinner,but their piggish table manners and half-assed story help paint a truer picture of who they really are,reality setting in when Mrs. Collingwood(Cynthia Carr) notices the pendant they had given Mari the day before around Junior's neck.Later that evening,she rummages through their luggage and finds blood-drenched clothing,and when she and her husband head out into the woods surrounding their house,they find their lifeless daughter's body on the shore of the lake.Oh yes,there will be revenge.Mrs. C. lures Weasel outside on the promise of rough sex,binding his arms behind his back,and bites his dick off in mid-fellatio.Dr. Collingwood sets up an electric shock trap while brandishing his trusty shotgun,but Krug escapes into the living room where he easily overpowers the middle-aged man.Just before he can add the doctor to his growing list of homicides,a dopesick Junior appears,wielding Krug's gun,with intent to shoot his own father,allowing the doctor to escape,while Krug psychologically destroys his mentally frail offspring,ordering him to blow his own brains out,which he does.By the time Krug notices the old man has disappeared,he reappears,with a revving chainsaw in tow.The bumbling sheriff,who had only existed for comic relief prior to this point,arrives on the scene just in time to beseech Collingwood not to dice Stilo into pieces,which he does anyway.Outside,Mrs. C. and Sadie have a good old fashioned catfight,which Sadie loses when the vengeful mother slits her throat in the family pool with her own stiletto.The couple reunite in the living room,and embrace,covered in blood.Indeed,the road led to nowhere.
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Krug,with mouth agape,slobbers on Mari's nape,mid-rape.
Prior to cementing himself in history as one of the greatest cinematic bastards to ever grace the silver screen,Hess began his career as a songwriter,writing hits for Sal Mineo,Elvis Presley, Andy Williams,and Pat Boone(!!!),recording two solo lps before becoming the head of A & R at Mercury Records in 1969.His soundtrack for tonight's entry is incredible,to say the least,mixing vaudevillian slapstick with rich folk music,and adding to the insanity occuring on the screen.He's worked with Campanile,Craven,Deodato,Fassbinder,and recently,Eli Roth,as well as releasing two more albums,and starring in an upcoming remake of Ferrara's Driller Killer.People seem to think he is the bastard they see upon the screen,but I can honestly say he's one of the nicest guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.Lincoln,on the other hand,went on to direct some 289 adult films,produce 19,and act in 46,a member of the AVN Hall of Fame,scoring a Critic's Adult Film award for Best Director with 1984's aptly titled,Go For It.I'm green with envy,Fred.Rain went on to write and produce for NBC,having relationships with Bob Dylan,John Belushi,and John Savage,before marrying and later divorcing Academy Award winning actor Richard Dreyfuss(!!!),with whom she has three children.We talk enough about Craven and Cunningham here that I shouldn't have to update you on their exploits.We wont go into the 2009 remake that Craven agreed to produce after seeing long dollars put in front of his face.The power of the original is in the verite' style the film was shot in,and the believability of the monstrous Stilo crew,whose grime and evil drip off the screen in every frame.There's no way anyone could recreate that,especially with a cast that looks like they just got done filming Dawson's fucking Creek.This is one of the greatest exercises in modern realistic horror cinema,and for being that,it merits four wops and comes with my highest recommendation.
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Like all great artists,Krug signs his work.
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Sunday, May 16, 2010

"Friday the 13th"(1980)d/Sean S. Cunningham

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What have we here?Why,only one of the most memorable,successful,controversial,and unfairly maligned slasher flicks of all-time.With summer upon us(and a healthy buzz upon your humble N),we should probably examine it more closely,eh kiddies?Director Cunningham,coming off the success of "Last House on the Left" with Wes Craven,looked to cash in on the popularity of "Halloween" with a stalk-and-kill opus that borrows heavily from Mario Bava's "Twitch of the Death Nerve".Phew,that's a lot of genre movie titles in one sentence.I'll have to check with Guinness(the book,not the stout)to see if that's in the ballpark for a record.I might have to get a pint of the stout down my neck while I'm at it,too.I've grown so impulsive here in the tail end of my summer years.Today's movie came at the height of Tom Savini's gore FX taking the spotlight in most cases,even over the actors or director involved,and the recently released uncut print on dvd showcases his blood-caked handiwork as well as any.The cast,comprised mainly of unknowns,does a believable enough job as sacrificial lambs to the slaughter for the sins of their square predecessors who let the kid with the big head sink in the drink years earlier.Betsy "What's My Line?" Palmer is an especially brilliant standout here as Mrs. Voorhees,her psychosis running deeper than Crystal Lake itself.Harry Manfredini's legendary score drives the tension home in the first installment,which overbrims with tension and jumpscares,I've noticed upon revisitation.Plus,where else can you watch a pre-fame Kevin Bacon eat post-sex arrowhead-through-the-neck death as he tokes a joint?Not too many places,I'd reckon.
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The ole staple neck-chop can make or break a movie like this;one vote for "make".
Steve Christie is the latest in a long line of people who've tried making Crystal Lake camper-friendly since the tragic drowning of a young boy back in 1958 while the counselors were getting familiar with each other's naughty bits.Only this time,it's not mysterious fires keeping the camp out of commission,it's a mysteriously vicious killer.Annie the cook inadvertently hitches a ride to the camp,and finds out the hard way when the killer gives her a handy extra mouth across her neck.Meanwhile the other counselors arrive,with swimming,weed,and extramarital sex on their filthy little minds.There's Ned the clown,Marcie and Jack(Bacon),Bill,Brenda,Shaggy,and Scoob...or rather,Alice,and Steve,who's masterminding the whole hot mess.Local fruit salad,the aptly named "Crazy Ralph" gives prophetic warning of the doom they're all facing by remaining in the Jersey woods as machete-fodder,but they don't listen.Kids never do.Steve goes into town to retrieve some supplies after hard-selling his phallus-chalice to Alice,who doesn't rule out cock entirely.After a run-in with a snake under a cot,and the obligatory motorcycle cop who takes himself entirely too seriously,one by one,the teenagers(who are all in their twenties)get picked off by the stranger in the forest.First,Ned gets the neckslice to match Annie,who's propped up against a tree somewhere out there.Then,as a torrential downpour soaks the camp,Jack and Marcie's thoughts turn to smoking dope and fucking,which seals their respective fates;Jack gets an arrow shoved through his neck from underneath the bed,and Marcie gets her face dichotomized with a sharp axe while in the potty.In another cabin,Bill,Brenda,and Alice play strip Monopoly and smoke grass.Doesn't anyone play strip tackle Ants-in-the-Pants anymore?
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Several satisfyingly sexy sanguinary set-pieces seep forth from Savini.
When Brenda braves the drenching rain to see who's been effing with the lights on the archery course,Bill decides to form a search party of one for the other counselors.Bad move,Bill.When Steve returns from his cup of coffee,slice of pie,and empty banter with the hideous old waitress at the diner,he's greeted by a familiar face,who abruptly shanks him in the labonza.Alice comes to from a pot-induced nap to find herself alone,until Brenda's beaten and tied body comes crashing through a cabin window.When a jeep arrives on the scene,she thinks its Christie returning from town,instead meeting a kindly middle-aged lady named Voorhees(Palmer),the old Crystal Lake cook, who helps her search the premises while relating the horrible story of the fate that befell her son Jason decades back.The woman becomes increasingly volatile during her campfire story,ultimately drawing a knife on the young counselor and chasing her all over creation,where Alice finds the remains of her other less-fortunate friends,all deader than Jack in the Box kid Rodney Allen Rippy's career.Mrs. Voorhees lapses in and out of a split personality,where she takes on the personna of her drowned boy,demanding vengeance,and has a nice little conversation with herself while hunting the remaining teen.On the shore of the lake,the two wrestle back and forth,before Alice gets a hold of Voorhees' machete and pops the broad's top with one fell chop.The next morning the police arrive to find the only survivor sleeping in a rowboat on the lake,but when she rouses from her slumber,a horribly deformed seaweed-encrusted mongoloid springs from the lake and drags her under.At the hospital,policemen tell her they found no boy in the lake...which means he must still be there,waiting for production to begin on Friday the 13th Pt. 2,ready to fill his mother's homicidal Hush Puppies.
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Main Entry: 2over·kill Pronunciation: \ˈō-vər-ˌkil\
Function: noun
Date: 1958 1 : a destructive capacity greatly exceeding that required for a given target

Make no mistakes,this is the best of a bountiful bunch of 13th flicks,epic in its simplicity,drawing criticism from douchebags like Gene Siskel,who never understood the slasher formula,even walking out during "Maniac!"(1980),and would rather you see kiddie fare like fucking Dumbo.Luckily for me,my kiddies play with dead things,although they probably shouldn't.59 million dollars later at the international box office,this film spurred on ten sequels of varying degrees of effectiveness(we'll look at all of 'em before the summer's out),one crossover with the Elm Street series,and a remake we've already viddied here.Not bad for such a despicable series,huh.And then came the hockey mask...
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Murderous mongo(Ari Lehman)menaces the maltreated madamoiselle.
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