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Don’t play that song again

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JEEPERS CREEPERS

4 Stars  2001/15/87m

“Evil is right behind you.”

Director/Writer: Victor Salva / Cast: Gina Philips, Justin Long, Jonathan Breck, Patricia Belcher, Eileen Brennan, Brandon Smith.

Body Count: at least 9

Dire-logue: “You know the part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everybody hates them for it? This is it!”

How can one begin discussing Jeepers Creepers, a film with a title so ultimately surplus to its premise that it could have been called ‘Oops! …I Did It Again’ or ‘Mmmbop’? Well, it’s not yer vanilla slasher fare, that’s for damn sure. It’s teen horror for sure, dude, but this one takes a left at the fork in the road whereas its Scream-modelled bretheren carried on down the straight.

Jeepers Creepers is an audience divider: Marmite, if you will. There are those who think it sucks and, in their defence, they’re partly right. And there are those who think it’s the best thing since internet porn sliced bread. And a lot of what they say is right too.

‘Tis the story of collegiate siblings Trisha and Darry, homeward bound for Spring Break via ‘the long route’ at Trish’s request due to a questionable break-up. This entails driving her aged Chevrolet along East 9, a scenic but virtually deserted route with a few urban legends to its name. The terror begins just minutes after meeting the bickering duo as they are nearly run off the road by an especially creepy old truck known as ‘BeatingU’ (in accordance with a license plate game the kids are playing).

A little further down the road they spot BeatingU parked up alongside a boarded up church, its inhabitant now tossing person-sized packages, covered in red blotches, down a sewer pipe.

Having quite obviously been seen by the stetson-hatted driver, BeatingU revs back into life to chase them down in the creepiest car chase since Duel. Trish and Darry escape and appear to have been spared when they discuss going back to the church in case whomever was wrapped up in those bloody sheets is still alive. Unlike many other slasher films, this is actually a pretty understandable reason for going back. Back in the 80s, our jock and cheerleader would have gone back for kicks or to make out in the basement. Tension has been nicely stacked up by now and Darry soon ends up taking a slide down the pipe where he witnesses one of the bagged-up victims croak from a sewn up torso wound. Worse still, the entire cavernous basement of the church is covered by a tapestry of naked, dead corpses, all of them preserved “like petrified wood” as Darry later tells a cop…

From here, things get creepy with mystery phonecalls from people who know their names, protector-cops are effortlessly done away with and we learn that the killer possesses abilities beyond those of an everyday human psychopath… Things are kept taut up to the hour mark, after an encounter with ‘The Cat Lady’ and we get a good look at exactly what is after the Jenner kids.

It’s the final half hour where Jeepers Creepers strays from its horror-on-the-road simplicity and quite literally loses its way. The revelation of just what the creature is and what it wants (explanation thanks to a local psychic who has dreamt the answers) is fine. It’s different, but it’s fine in a fantasy comic book way. The cop-shop showdown is what’s unoriginal. Memories of Terminator 2 abound and it seems like Salva simply didn’t know where to go to bridge the end of the road scenes with the true meaning of the titular song which, as said psychic tells them, means ‘bad things’ for one of the sibs.

Scribbler-helmer Victor Salva seems to attract more column inches because of his shady past then for his directing talent, which is considerable. Most people who criticise higher budget commercial horror films for ‘being rubbish’ pay little attention to the craft itself and should perhaps watch more only-on-DVD features where nobody gives a crap about the lighting or composition. Jeepers Creepers is gorgeously shot, overflowing with perfect pans and cranes, shadows are in all the right places and it’s a genuinely unsettling visual experience. We’ve all had those great film ideas that sound so perfect in our heads but would never translate so well to the screen, hell, that’s why so many book-to-film adaptations implode! This is simply one of those, two-thirds terrifying road-trip from and to hell, one-third bizarro creature feature with a bit of a depressing ending. See it for the setup, stay for the photography.

Blurbs-of-interest: Creeper Breck was also in The Caretaker and Mask Maker. Salva followed things with an okay sequel in 2003 and another due in the future. He had previously directed creepy B-flick Clownhouse. Justin Long returned for a brief cameo in JC II. Eileen Brennan turns up in The Hollow, but she’s not a kooky Cat Lady.

KILLER’S MOON

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KILLER’S MOON

2 Stars 1978/18/89m

“One endless night of terror!”

Director/Writer: Alan Birkinshaw / Cast: Anthony Forrest, Tom Marshall, Georgina Kean, Alison Elliott, Jane Hayden, Jean Reeve, Nigel Gregory, David Jackson, Paul Rattee, Peter Spraggon, Elizabeth Counsell, Jo-Anne Good.

Body Count: 9

Dire-logue: “One minute you’re a person, then you’re a sheep…all covered in blood.”

I was born in 1978. The year of Halloween, Grease and…uh…Killer’s Moon, a film possibly even more fucked up than The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. ‘Ooh, I must see it!’ you may crow. But wait, remain in your seat with the belt fastened, for this is not a recommendation by any means. Tobe Hooper’s film is screwy in a truly horrific way. Killer’s Moon is shot to pieces. It’s like that mental middle-aged woman in accounts who talks gibberish on eleven different subjects at once.

It’s part Clockwork Orange, part exploitation trash and part girls’ school comedy. Said schoolgirls are in fact a choir travelling through the Lake District – yes, it’s 70s England! – when their bus conks out and they take refuge in a secluded hotel. Meanwhile, we learn that four nutters have broken free of an institute and, thanks for a new type of therapy, believe they’re dreaming.

The loonies eventually crash the big sleepover to rip off blouses, rape and strangle any jailbait they can get their grubby mits on. They abduct others and force them to…prepare food for them! OH MY GOD! The depravity! Sooner or later, a couple of camping buddies team up with the girls to escape and reap their revenge.

Author Fay Weldon rewrote much of the girls’ dialogue but some of what comes out of their mouths is unbelievable. We start off with; “I just want to die and get it all over.” Fine, stupid, but fine. But later, proto-heroine Agatha turns to a friend of hers and tells her: “Look – you were only raped. As long as you don’t tell anyone you’ll be fine.” Only raped!?!? By an insane escaped convict, no less! Oh, don’t worry Lucy, all is well, just internalise the anxiety for the next sixty years and all shall remain just tickety-boo.

Whether or not Killer’s Moon is supposed to be humorous is debatable. It could be that it just sucks. Characters don’t question anything they’re told, trust absolutely anyone and spit venomous insults akin to “you’re just horrible!” at the killers as if they’re all at a seventh birthday party. Throw in a random three-legged dog who saves the day, indifference to bodily violation and nightgowns so cheaply made they simply fall off in a passing breeze and you’ve got one of the weirdest 89 minutes one could hope to experience… Approach with caution.

Blurb-of-interest: Birkinshaw later directed a slasher remake of The Masque of the Red Death, which is immeasurably better.

COLD PREY vs COLDPLAY

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Do we know much about the culture of Norway, that slab of land that stretches from the North Sea up near the Arctic Circle? With no means to cause offence, the country isn’t famous for a helluva lot. Images immediately conjured up when one thinks of the place include herring, fjords and limited daylight hours.

Worry not, for this rather drab portrait can only be brightened by the fact that the country produced one of the most atmospheric slasher pics in recent memory, which also teaches us Norway has a lot of snow and therefore skiers and such.

Yes, Contender #1 is Cold Prey, or Fritt Vilt as shown here, the super high-tension cloud-of-dread neo-masterpiece of teenkill horror that pitts five stranded snowboarders against a fur-clad primal killer when they are forced to spend a night in an abandoned ski lodge. This rivals Haute Tension for the crown of most nail-biting stalk n’ slasher so far this century – but doesn’t have the same dumb twist.

Moving from the fjords and herring of Norway to the once great shores of Great Britain, but a pebble’s throw away to meet Contender #2, our very own Coldplay.

Now, Coldplay emerged on to ‘the scene’ several years back, shooting to fame with an endless array of drippy ballads such as ‘Yellow’ and ‘Clocks’; the kind of songs that, if sung by, say, Alanis Morissette, would have been minor footnotes in the British charts and likely criticised for being too whingey and whiny. But when you’re a quartet of blokes with a conventionally handsome leading man, you can moan all you want and Radio 1 will kiss your feet and declare you the best band ever.

Can you tell who’s going to win yet?

Premise: Cold Prey adopts a simple, back to basics approach and garnishes it with cold, claustophobic photography and an emphasis on the complexities of character relations over horny teens having sex.

Coldplay lean towards pianoey ballads with poetry-like lyrics and a lot of metaphors.

Originality: We’ve seen Iced and Shredder so we know that 80% of the primary cast members are no longer going to exist after 95 minutes.

Jo Whiley said Coldplay had a ‘definitive sound’. This actually meant that Speed of Sound was a carbon copy of Clocks and she didn’t want to look stupid by endorsing them after moaning for so many years that most pop groups’ output ‘all sounds the same’.

Violence: Make no mistake about it, Cold Prey gets brutal when it wants to. The first kill is especially terrifying (not least for the victim), but after this there’s no excessive bloodshed.

Listening to Coldplay may well induce outbursts of homicidal violence.

Leader: Jannicke is the sensible, kind final girl in Cold Prey. She loves her boyfriend and is nice to Morten, the dude who’s had the Jones for her since, like, forever. She kicks the killer’s ass when necessary.

Chris Martin seems like a nice fella, but bland, mind. Does anybody know the names of the other three?

Outcome: Cold Prey ‘borrows’ heavily from a scene in Hostel for it’s finale, but I was literally screaming at the TV for Jannicke to do what a (final) girl’s gotta do!

Coldplay are still going.

Spawn: Frit Vilt II is just as scary, taking the olde Halloween II route of moving both FG and killer to a near deserted hospital for further stalkage. One of those rare sequels that matches the first film’s quality.

Chris Martin has a child named Apple.

Victor:

Well that wasn’t at all obvious…

EVIL JUDGMENT

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EVIL JUDGMENT

2 Stars  1981/93m

“A homicidal maniac becomes judge, jury and…executioner!”

Director: Claude Castravelli / Writers: Claude Castravelli & Vittorio Montesano / Cast: Pamela Collyer, Jack Langedyk, Roland Nincheri, Nanette Workman, Suzanne De Laurentis, Walter Massey, Septimiu Sever, Sam Stone.

Body Count: 8

Dire-logue: Dino – “You know, where I come from they strap hookers to a mule and run ’em out of town.” April – “Yeah, is that how your mother came to America?”

My third Let’s-Celebrate-Halloween-by-the-medium-of-VHS outing.

I possess a strange fantasy about living in Canada. But maybe it’s not all trees, lakes, and Celine Dion. At least, if the Canadian embassy handed out copies of Evil Judgment instead of DVDs showing video of the a fore mentioned things, I might change my mind and go for Australia instead. Hmm…don’t like the sound of those killer spiders.

EJ isn’t a dire film. Canada makes good slasher films as it happens. Except for Study Hell. Alas, this is no Prom Night or My Bloody Valentine. This possibly explains why it wasn’t released until 1984. Unlike those other films, EJ is an ambitious little tike, deciding to take a handful of stalk n’ kill and shove it in the mouth of some gritty cop thriller and sprinke a Mafia plotline overhead. When I was young I didn’t think the Mafia was real. Chalk that up there with the Canadian life-plan.

Anyway, Janet is a bit of a wimpy, naive waitress who moans enough about her lack of cash that hooker gal-pal April talkes her into accompanying her on a little menage a trois at some wealthy judge’s mansion for $200. Janet reluctantly goes but soon regrets it when both April and the judge get their throats slashed.

She wakes up in hospital and is told by arsey detective Armstrong that she tried to kill herself. ‘Bullshit,’ she says, ‘I so escaped from a psycho looney killer!’ He’s all; ‘who’d believe a junkie whore?’ and she’s like; ‘I’m a waitress, man!’ The only person who seems to take her seriously is her hot n’ cold boyfriend Dino, who’s the dude with the Mafia connections.

The killer returns to try and do away with Janet and she and Dino decide to play Fred and Daphne and soon discover a whole conspiracy to do with the murdered judge, Armstrong and some botched trial. I lost interest here for a while until the killings were reignited. The assailant finally puts in an appearance and here I paid my dues for not paying attention as I wasn’t sure who he was or what was going on. I’ll blame the aged VHS copy and the tracking on my player. I don’t feel like watching it again.

The main shortcoming in EJ is the acting. Or, lack of. Pam Collyer, as Janet, isn’t so much bad, more that she feels the need to annunciate each and every word of her dialogue, robbing it all of any tension or meaning. The film’s rarity meant it escaped being scissored and there are some grisly throat slashings chucked in (mainly women of course) and, with a higher budget and more taut scribing, this could have been a minor cult classic. As it is, there’s not much her to earn a recommendation from me. Of course, feel free not to pay heed and dive in headfirst, it’s what I’d do. And should ‘judgment’ have a second E? J-U-D-G-E-M-E-N-T ?

Blurbs-of-interest: Roland Nincheri (Armstrong) had walk-on parts in Visiting Hours and Terror Train.

HOLLOW GATE

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HOLLOW GATE

1.5 Stars  1988/87m

“When Mark Walters throws a Halloween party, Freddy and Jason wouldn’t dare to come.”

Director/Writer: Ray Di Zazzo / Cast: Addison Randall, Katrina Alexy, Richard Dry, Patricia Jacques, J.J. Miller, Ted Buck, Mario Hernandez, Pat Shalsant.

Body Count: 6

Dire-logue: “Just a few Halloween nuts… Is that all you old bitches want? Happy Halloween, you filthy old hag!”

Yesterday was Halloween. I was at work, but managed to watch a certain famous flick about the day in question. It was amazing. Eerie, creepy, perfect all round 30 years on. I also watched Hollow Gate.

Now, the killer in Hollow Gate, Mark, had his head held in the apple-bobbing bowl by his beer-choking pop at a kids’ party. This actor’s name is Bartholamew Bottoms, which might explain why such a thing might happen to him off-screen. Title cards tell us that ten years later, on Halloween Night (despite it being daylight), he teaches two nasty classmates a lesson when they mock him and his gas-pumpin’ job by setting their tank alight and watching them burn. Another two years pass and, on the same day, he attacks a shop girl who won’t have ice cream with him (“I don’t like ice cream! I don’t like the movies!” -who’d want to date this chick?)

Some undisclosed time later, Mark is living with his dotty Grandmother at Hollowgate, a fat-ass mansion outside the town limits (somewhere in Oklahoma). His live-in nurse has been dismissed and, when she suggests throwing a costume party on Halloween to resocialise Mark, Granny gets a pair of scissors in the eye. A couple of weeks later, two teen couples on their way to a nearby rave opt to deliver a few costumes to Hollowgate in exchange for free wigs. Yes, really. They’re soon trapped on the grounds after Mark shows them what’s left of Grandma and, for each ensuing murder, he dons a costume and plays its respective part (drill sergeant, redneck farmer, snooty British fox hunter…) This is assumedly, Hollow Gate‘s ‘niche’, it’s ‘hook’. Sucks, don’t it? Well, not half as much as the film itself.

The teens in peril are an ensamble of am-dram rejects for sure. They squeal their lines and overact to the point of a lunacy that rivals Mark’s madness. Equally, their decision making abilities should be called into question: at one point, they elect to run across a plain one by one for no obvious purpose. The last girl goes and notices a combine harvester coming towards her in the distance. Now, you can outwalk a combine harvester, especially when it takes between five and ten seconds for each machine appendagey part to lower itself to ground level. But no, she stands there and screams, keeps still so the killer can shoot her and then run her over in said vehicle. She literally had over a minute, during which she could have crawled to safety!

Worse is to come. Another teen is mauled by Mark’s rabid…Golden Retrievers!!? Yes. The friendliest, most placid canine species is cast as a savage killing machine. I have a Labrador Retriever and the only living thing I’ve ever seen it eat is a spider. By the time the last girl is on the run and screaming at everything, two cops whose respective ‘stories’ we’ve had the displeasure of returning to throughout events the film come a-rescuin’ and things are wrapped with that old killer’s-eye-opens-in-the-hospital thing.

Low body count, rubbish gore, characters who should die but don’t – this is only made bearable by the bewildering lack of acting talent. Slam the gate shut upon your departure please.

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