Scream began its life as the brainchild of Kevin Williamson, a part time actor with one sold but not produced screenplay to his credit (Teaching Mrs. Tingle which Williamson would ultimately direct). When he read about a series of killings in Florida, he was inspired to write a script featuring characters as aware of horror movies as he was. The script, then titled Scary Movie, was sold to Dimension films which brought in Wes Craven to direct.

The film opens with a twelve minute sequence featuring Drew Barrymore being harassed and ultimately killed by a killer in a Munch’s Scream inspired mask. The killer taunts his intended victim with phone calls reminiscent of the film When a Stranger Calls, and their conversation involves a discussion of many of the great slasher films. The best line, and one that Craven almost omitted, comes when Barrymore’s character comments that the first Nightmare on Elm Street was good but “the others sucked”. Craven felt the line might be too egotistical, but since he had been involved as a writer of Part 3 and Part 7, he kept it in. Upon first viewing, the scene is shocking. Who could have expected that Drew would be killed off when the movie had barely begun? This opening is part of the reason the movie succeeds. After it, the viewer knows that no character is safe, expect the unexpected, and no matter how many rules are laid out, expect them to be broken.

As the film begins in earnest, we are introduced to Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell), a young woman still reeling from her mother’s murder a year ago. She is soon terrorized by a phone call from a menacing voice and then attacked by the ghost face killer (not to be confused with Ghost face Killer, the badass Wu Tang Clan MC). Sidney escapes, but soon her movie conscious friends are being picked off by the killer. With nosy reporter Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) on the story and bumbling detective Dewey (David Arquette) on the case, the kids have to try and survive if they can follow the rules.

Perhaps more than any other slasher in recent times, I think Scream owes a great deal to the classic gaily of the 1970’s. This is not a film not based in the supernatural like Nightmare or Friday the 13th nor does it feature in unstoppable force like Meyers or Leather face. Instead, I see much more of the hallmark of Bava’s Twitch of a Death Nerve or Argento’s Opera. While the characters, much like myself at the time, would not have been well versed in those film, there’s no telling where Williamson took his inspiration for the story’s structure. Like gialli, Scream features a masked and gloved killer, numerous instances of misdirection, and an ending featuring a shocking and unexpected twist. It’s interesting to me how the film contains all the parts from the whole history of slasher films from the roots in Italian cinema to the gore fests of the ‘80’s.

Throughout the film, the actors all do fine jobs, even the usually irritating Matthew Lillard and Jamie Kennedy. Kennedy especially was very enjoyable as the resident horror movie geek who introduces the group to the rules (Don’t have sex, do drugs, or say that “you’ll be right back”). This film is also the best role I’ve ever seen from David Arquette. His goofy cop Dewey is definitely my favorite character, and while I have great hesitation about the forthcoming Scream 4, at least he has been confirmed as returning. Also coming back for another sequel is his wife, Courtney Cox, whom he met while filming this movie. Rose McGowen is lovely as always though I hate that she dyed her hair blonde to appear less like the brunette lead, Neve Campbell. Neve herself is more the catalyst for the events in the film than an integral part to me. While she does a fine job, there is nothing in her performance that blew me away, and the same can be said of poor man’s Johnny Depp, Skeet Ulrich.

I’m not going to go into all the referential nods and horror inside jokes contained in the film because I think that has been endlessly explored elsewhere, and I’m sure that you folks don’t need them spelled out. I’ll just say that this time (perhaps my third viewing of the film) I did notice a few more things I missed last time. This film is loaded with Easter eggs for the horror fan, and that’s one thing that confuses me. I’ve often seen Scream looked down on by horror hounds as teen trash. While I think that label might be accurate of films it spawned, Scream was a game changing film for the slasher genre. By taking in and regurgitating the history of slasher films in the way it did, Scream turned the genre on it’s ear and breathed new life into what was basically a dead subgenre. I know that Kevin Williamson went on to pen Dawson’s Creek, and many people hold that against him. Perhaps they forget he also wrote the well done Scream 2, Rodriguez’s fun sci fi film The Faculty, and I Know What You Did Last Summer, the only worthwhile entry into that series.

If somehow you like scary movies, but have been living under a rock since 1996, then this is a film that you should see. If you haven’t seen it in a while, then I recommend a re-watch. Though the film loses something when you know the ending, there are tons of clues to look for when you do give it another view. It’s also a film about people like us, people who know not to run out into the woods, who yell at characters to look behind them, and who know the bad guy is never dead even when the credits roll. Thanks everyone who left all the great comments on the Craven films this month. I’ve got something special in mind for August’s feature, so check back in next week to see what I have in store for you folks.

If one day I went to the mailbox and there was a mysterious package waiting for me inside, I would be quite suspect of it to start. Then after getting the gumption to open it up, what if I found a letter detailing how to make the best sandwich of all time? Well, I would be intrigued. Reading on, I find out that all the ingredients needed are included in the package, and that I need only to provide my own bread to make this lunch of legend. Any bread will do, it reads, whatever you have on hand. This is where the whole affair would start to worry me. What if I had terrible bread or only pumpernickel on hand? How could they be so sure this would not affect the taste? Taking all things into consideration, I would have to abstain from making the sandwich. While I do love a good nosh, there would just be too much uncertainty involved.

If I would not make a mere mystery sandwich, why do scientists in film so readily accept instructions from aliens that they’ve never met, never seen, and have no idea what their intentions are? This is the basic premise that kicks off tonight’s film, Species (1995). The earth receives a series of transmissions giving us scientific breakthroughs followed by instructions on combining a specific DNA sequence with that of a human being. I can’t for the life of me understand why they would go along with such a plan unless they were promised a close up look at a completely nude Natasha Henstridge.

Species should nearly just be called Specious because that’s the heading this film’s logic should be filed under. This is a film ready made to check your brain at the door because if you look beyond the surface then you’ll find there is very little there. The selling point of the film was Ms. Henstridge in various states of undress after all. Factually, even sci fi faux factually, the film contains massive plot holes, non-sensical actions, and dialog that borders on atrocious. Take for example Ben Kingley’s scientist who states that they made the experiment a woman because it would be “more controllable”. Maybe he should have taken Kipling’s advice when the poet said “the female of the species must be deadlier than the male“. Literature aside, any biologist will tell you that in most predatory species, the female is far more aggressive. So on the off chance, maybe not the smoothest move there, Dr. Science.

While the parts of the film where a naked Natasha dispatches prospective suitors is quite fun, the really enjoyable parts of the film come from the assembled team. This film got itself a hell of a cast. Forrest Whitaker shines as the team’s empath, Dan. I always like to see Forrest, and here he hams it up perfectly. Future Doc. Ock Alfred Molina plays his role as the resident anthropologist with a dry wit that perfectly fit the campy tone of the picture that was buried right under the surface. Marg Helgenburger, lately of CSI fame, doesn’t have a lot to do, but her love scene with Michael Madsen, which was improvised, is some pretty funny stuff.

That brings me to Mr. Blonde himself, Madsen, the gung ho gun toting hero of the flick. Gloriously over the top and super serious to the point of parody, even though he was weighed down with some seriously bad dialog, Madsen was the high point of the film. His character, Preston Lenoxx (what a great movie name), is the perfect model for a hero in a film like this. He’s hard boiled, unflinching, and totally prepared to get the job done. While his character’s cheesy dialog is infinitely quotable my favorite has to be, “Yeah. Tell him he’s about to copulate with a creature from outer space.” It just don’t get better than that, folks.

I suppose, seeing as she’s the featured performer, I should take a moment to talk about Natasha. I’ll admit it; I’m somewhat a fan. I’ve seen most of the episodes of She Spies (Season 1 being the best), and I’m only slightly afraid to admit it. In Species, her acting is not stellar, but the role really only requires her to alternately slink about looking sexy and/or naked. When she has to utter menacing dialog, it’s just not good. Her delivery reminded me a bit of another model turned actress, Ali Larter, and that’s not particularly a compliment. While she did get better in later roles, this first foray into film was not her shining moment.

Director Roger Donaldson’s career could be characterized as uneven at best. While he has made a few quality films (Thirteen Days, Cadillac Man), he’s also made some horrid schlock (Cocktail, Dante’s Peak, The Bank Job). Species, while silly, is also a well paced sci fi thriller, and the film moves at a brisk pace through its set pieces. He also has a boon in working with Swedish artist H.R. Giger, famously the creator of the titular Alien and an Emerson, Lake, and Palmer album cover. Giger’s design for the otherworldly Sil does look like a creation that has just stepped off his canvas, and this was one of the strengths that held together the last act of the film. Sure, there were no more Henstridge boobies to ogle, but there were a pair that shot tentacles out of them. That’s got to be worth something in my book.

There’s not much else to say about Species except that it’s a really enjoyable piece of nonsense. Never rising above the average as a film, it works on cheesy charm alone….and I suppose to some extent boobs. Species is not a film that will change your life or give you any deeper understanding of the mysteries of the universe, but it will entertain the hell out of you for ninety minutes. So check this one out, and remember, don’t make any sandwich that I wouldn’t make.

Marnie is a film driven by a man and his fetish for a woman with a checkered past. The man obsessed is not a new innovation in Hitch's films, just look at James Stewart in Vertigo or Gregory Peck in The Paradine Case. Mr. Hitchcock had his own obsessions when it came to his films, and Marnie was to mark the end of one of them. It also marked the end of many things for the director. Some say this film even marks the end of the masterpieces he was to make, and having seen two of his final four films, they definitely do not stack up to this one.

The film opens with a shot of a robbery being discovered in an office intercut with a woman clutching a yellow purse as she makes her way through a train station. As the police take down a description of the thief, a quite beautiful brunette with delicate features, it flashes back to the woman over a sink rinsing dye out of her hair. As the water becomes murky, she leans up, slinging her hair back, and we finally get our first look of Tippi Hedren as Marnie. After a quick trip home to visit her unloving mother, Marnie once again dyes her hair a bit darker and accepts a job at Mark Rutland’s (Sean Connery) printing company. Mark recognizes her as the woman who stole from the accounting firm who handles his books, but he hires her anyway. Mark soon becomes quite infatuated with her, and after she makes good on her plan, he tracks her down and confronts her. He gives her a choice, marry him or to be turned into the law, but while she opts for the former, there are things in Marnie’s past that she cannot escape.

The source material for Marnie was the novel written by Winston Graham, an English novelist. Aside from a series of historical novels known as the Poldark series, Marnie is the work most associated with the author. While Hitchcock was drawn to the themes of the book, he did not handle the adaptation this time. The first attempt was made by mystery novelist Ed McBain, but after questioning one of the more sordid parts of the story another writer was brought in. Jay Presson Allen, who was one of the few female screenwriters working in the business at the time, did the final draft of the film.

Hitchcock had read her unproduced script for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and was suitably impressed, and while he very much liked her treatment for Marnie, the writer and director did not see eye to eye on everything. Presson Allen was set up in an apartment near the Universal lot, and found it very easy to bike to work. Hitchcock would have none of it as he felt it was “down class” and dispatched a limousine to take her to and from the lot. The day that she rebelled and decided to walk to work the car trailed her all the way there.

Tippi Hedren was not Hitchcock’s first choice to play Marnie. He wanted Grace Kelly, then already Princess Grace, to return to the screen, but when her subjects objected to their Princess being depicted as a thief, she bowed out. She was also under contract with MGM for one more picture, and she did not want to have to make a picture to fulfill that contract. Therefore, instead of Kelly, Hitchcock cast the star of his previous film, The Birds (1963). Hedren’s performance as Marnie, a deeply troubled woman with severe panic attacks when confronted with either lightning or the color red, is very sensitive. The secrets of her past, of what made her a thief and a frigid wife, are not even known to her. As the layers of her life are peeled back, my heart could not help to go out to her. While Connery’s Mark surely would be attracted to her physical beauty, I think there is more to his character than being drawn to a thief. I think he was also attracted to Marnie’s problems, especially as he begins to learn of them. It strengthened his resolve to help her no matter what the end result might be. Hedren plays the part perfectly giving Marnie a childlike quality that you could see just beyond the steely walls she put up around herself. I also want to go back to that opening scene for a moment. The dramatic introduction of the freshly blonde Marnie was incredibly striking, and if for no other reason, I would recommend this film on it's strength alone. Hedren would also be the last of the Hitchcock blondes even though her character spends much of the film with varying degrees of hair color.

Connery was under contract with Eon Productions to do both Bond and non-Bond movies, but he was reluctant to take on any roles that he felt were too similar to the super spy. When he was asked what director he would want to work with, he immediately said Alfred Hitchcock, and the film was set up. However, Connery wanted to see the script before he would agree to the film, something that Cary Grant never did. When confronted about it, he said, “I’m not Cary Grant.” with typical Connery bravado. Hitchcock and Connery apparently got on well while on set, but Hitch later commented that he “ wasn’t convinced that Sean Connery was a Philadelphia gentleman.” and that the role demanded, “a more elegant man than we had.” I rather like Sean in this film. His performance did not stem only from the dialog, but from the expressions that pass over his face. The obsessive nature of his character is left unspoken, and only in the looks, the glances, and the moods of Connery’s performance do we begin to understand how entranced he is. While Connery’s character does engage in a rather loathsome act in the course of the film, he remains a redeemable character. Plenty flawed though, he did blackmail Marnie into marrying him, but the lengths he goes to try to help her are beyond the pale.

The film also features an astounding supporting role from Lousie Latham. While she was not much older than Ms. Hedren, she turns in an incredible performance as Marnie’s mother. When we are first introduced to the character, it is perfectly suited to sway the audience to feel for Hedren’s character. Latham’s mother is not loving or comforting and shows no kindness to her daughter, surely nowhere near what she gives to the little girl she baby-sits. By the time she slaps her daughter across the face, I thought she was the most heartless mother since last I saw Mommy Dearest. As the film progresses, y her story becomes much deeper, darker, and surprisingly loving than first imagined. Like any parent would, she wanted to protect her daughter from evils that had befallen her, and there was no way of knowing that the protection would ultimately harm her daughter as much. The film was nominated for no Academy Awards, but Ms. Latham's was surely of the caliber to get a nod.

The secondary characters play little to no role in the film, and Hitchcock has bemoaned this fact stating, “I really didn’t know these people, the family in their background.” Several characters like Mark’s father (the indomitable Alan Napier) and his sister in law (Diane Baker) are barely explored at all. While the former is no big loss, there seemed to be something only hinted at between Connery’s character and Ms. Baker. She seemed to be quite taken with her dead sister’s husband and quite suspicious of his new beau. I wish this had been expanded on a bit more, but much of the novel’s depth had to be scaled back for the picture to be a suitable length. I am very interested in reading the novel to see what other layers were explored. The film also features an early performance by Bruce Dern, which was quite good, but I can say no more about his part in without ruining one of its best moments.

I said that this film would mark many lasts in Hitchcock’s career, and I’ve already mentioned that this would be the last film to focus on a Hitchcock blonde. This was also the last of Hitch's films to be scored by Bernard Herrmann. They collaborated on six features and almost one more (check out the review of Torn Curtain for more on that.) One reason for their eventual falling out may have been that Hitchcock felt the composition was too derivative of Hermann’s other work, but I enjoyed the score. It captured the sense of adventure and danger that surrounded Marnie’s life as well as the melancholy that you could see in her eyes. As the film builds to it‘s climax, the score does as well. While I’m no scholar when it comes to Hermann’s scores (Ryan where are you when I need you?), I found it so stirring I would love to have the soundtrack. There is also a version of the opening theme on one of Hermann’s albums with vocals by Nat King Cole.

Marnie would also end the collaboration with two more of Hitch’s cohorts, but for much different reason. Cinematographer Robert Burks had collaborated with Hitchcock on twelve films going back to 1951’s Strangers on a Train. He completed the work on Marnie, but died soon thereafter when he and his wife were caught in a house fire. While some have criticized the nonrealistic look of Marnie, the film definitely has a sense of the German expressionistic period that Hitchcock had experience with in the beginning of his career. Some of the backgrounds are obvious painted backdrops, the lightning doesn’t look real at all, and the flashes of color may seem disjointed at times, but it adds to the film being much more of an impressionistic affair. Marnie seems to exist in a world that is neither dream nor nightmare, but somewhere in between. Six time Hitchcock editor George Thomasini, who also worked on the classic Cape Fear (1962), also passed away after this film. While none of his work was as astounding as some of the cuts in The Birds or Psycho, it was clearly cut together with a master’s hand. There is an especially showy piece of editing in the scene where Mark and Marnie do some word association that makes the scene pop.

Marnie is a quiet film that will lose many viewers with it’s extremely slow burn, but those who stick it out will be rewarded with a film that is a very interesting character study. It never achieves many of the facets of Hitch’s other films, it’s not very suspenseful, bloody, or action packed. Instead, Marnie’s charm comes directly from the talents of Ms. Hedren and Mr. Connery. They play two very complex people, and the film almost needed to be longer to capture more about their personalities and motivations. Even at a two-hour running time, it began to feel rushed toward the end to wrap the story up. Marnie is a difficult story with characters to match. However, as rewarding as one viewing was, I doubt I will find myself going back to this one again.

Canadians are not just about beer, maple syrup, and hockey. They don’t all listen to Rush, and no matter what South Park may tell you, their heads do not come apart in the middle. However, one thing that the Canucks have proved themselves at is making some of the finest slasher flicks. In 1974, Canadian Bob Clark made Black Christmas, and it became one of the prototypes of the genre. Then in 1981, tonight’s film, My Bloody Valentine, took the slasher picture to a new level with inventive kills, a great cast, and an imposing boogeyman to terrify the kids. It did Friday the 13th one better, literally, after all this flick went to the 14th.

Set in the Canadian mining town of Valentine Flats, My Bloody Valentine is all about the legend of Harry Warden, a miner who survived a cave in 20 years ago by cannibalizing his companions. A year after, Harry escaped the mental institution and returned to Valentine Flats to kill the foreman who caused the mine’s collapse when he left his post to attend a Valentine Dance. Warden was recaptured, but he vowed to return if the town ever held another dance on Valentine’s Day. Naturally, after so much time has passed, no one is worried about Harry returning. The town decides to put on another dance, but when a human heart shows up in a Valentine candy box, the sheriff calls off the festivities. The young folks have other ideas and T.J. (Paul Kelman) suggests they move the party out to his father’s mine.

I don’t think I even have to tell you things go wrong from there. Harry Warden shows up and starts offing the young adults one after another. Some get a mining pick to their head, some get drowned in hot dogs, and some suffer worse fates. Harry seems intent to pick them all off one by one, and everyone seems content to walk right into his clutches. The folks with the least amount of sense are those that decide that partying is not enough; they should go down into the mine. Maybe it’s a Canadian thing, but no matter how loaded I got there would be no part of me that thinks going down in a coal mine would be a lots of fun. Sure, they don’t know that old Harry is waiting for them down there, but they don’t have to, it’s a dumbass move either way.

While the script is a straight up slasher affair with some slight misdirection to spice things up, the film really gets its strength from the actors playing the young townsfolk. Paul Kelman gives T.J., the son of the mine’s owner who has recently returned from a failed adventure on the West coast, a kind of moody, gruff melancholy that I remember seeing in friends who had run back home after screwing up in their early 20’s. This is a guy who’s embarrassed to have failed, pissed that he has to work in the mine now, and, on top of that, he’s lost his girl to cool guy Axel Palmer (Neil Affleck).

Kelman’s central performance is enhanced by the ensemble that surrounds him as great, natural performances get turned in from some inexperienced actors. First time actress, Lori Hallier seems suitably torn between T.J. and Alex as the object of their rivalry. She would go on to have quite a long career in TV and film while Neil Affleck would go onn to be an animator/director on The Simpsons. My favorite small performance comes by way of Keith Knight as T.J.’s friend Hollis. It’s really not that he does anything special or has such a great role in the film. Knight just seems like a Canadian as silly as that sounds. If someone asked me to imagine a resident of the Great White North, he’s what I would imagine. The film is littered with Canadian-isms, and I enjoyed keeping a running tally of the “aboot”s uttered in the film. (I counted six.)

While the cast provides the film and its story with a great feel, this is a slasher after all, and what we’re here for is the kills. Boy, do you get ‘em too. What other flick gives you a corpse in a dryer tumbling around, a girl impaled and her face made into a water spigot, and someone killed with some kind of spike gun? The mine and killer miner concept lends itself greatly to the gruesome kills, and the MPAA gave this flick quite the hard time. Over the years it’s been claimed that anywhere from three to eight minutes had been trimmed to get an R rating. While director George Mihalka has claimed the greater number, the uncut version which was recently released with his blessing only contains about three more minutes of footage. However, I do recommend to anyone who wants to see this flick they get their hands on that version. The film looks crisp and clean, and the added guts and gore is certainly worth the slightly longer running time.

To top the film off, there’s a song that runs over the end credits written by composer Paul Zaza and performed by Scottish-Canadian singer John McDermott. While it does not explicitly go into the legend of Harry Warden or the events of the film, it is perfectly in the style of Irish and English folk ballads, and I’m trying to convince my singer-songwriter wife that she needs to do a cover of it. (Come on this, a few David Hess songs, and dig up a couple more and she’s got a Genre Folk album.) The rest of Zaza’s score is very good as well though it lacks the iconic flavor of it’s contemporaries in the slasher vein. Interestingly, Zaza would go on to work with fellow Canadian Bob Clark when he wrote the scores to Bob’s films Porky’s and A Christmas Story.

My Bloody Valentine scores as a slasher flick by not straying too far from the formula, but giving the film some life with inventive special effects from Thomas Burman (The Goonies, Scrooged, Dead Again), tight and claustrophobic cinematography by Rodney Gibbons (Scanners II), and a cast that you could really believe in. I watched My Bloody Valentine twice before reviewing it because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstating the case after my first viewing, and no I’m not. This film goes right up near the top of my list of best Slasher films. If all you’ve seen is the recent 3-D remake (as I had), then don’t judge the original by the remake’s wafer thin plot, WB cast, and gimmicky selling points. My Bloody Valentine needed none of these things to achieve greatness. All it needed was some hard working folks, a good idea, and lots of beer. Well, come on, it’s still a Canadian film.

Argento might have been the artist, Fulci the purveyor of sleaze and filth, and Castellari the master of the action sequence, but there’s a director whose workhorse dedication to film put him in a class all to himself. I’m talking Sergio Martino here. With 63 movies to his name spanning from 1969’s Mondo Sex to 2008’s L'allenatore nel pallone 2, Martino has worked ceaselessly throughout a forty year career. Martino himself once commented on his catalog saying, “My movies are like a soft drink -- sparkling, unaffected products for mass consumption. A soft drink doesn't have the prestige of champagne, of course, but I'd rather have a good soda pop than watered down wine anytime.” While I think this downplays much of his work, there’s truth there. Whether you’re watching Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key, Giovanna Long Thigh, or Hands of Steel, Martino is going to give you a movie experience that will entertain and sometimes leave you with a big silly grin on your face.

Tonight I’m taking my first look at one of Martino’s Polizia/Crime pictures. He made a number of this kind of film throughout his career. Like many other Italian directors, Martino had no fear of hopping from horror to crime to suspense to western to comedy and back again, and while some efforts are better than others, you can always tell that Sergio had his mind, and often his camera, in just the right place. When I put in the disk for The Violent Professionals (1973) [Italian: Milano trema - la polizia vuole giustizia], I expected to see Martino and star Luc Merenda go through the paces of the genre that I have come to expect from directors like Castellari , Caiano, Girolami, and Lenzi. What I didn’t expect were the special twists and turns Martino and screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi built into the story.

Luc Merenda stars as Lt. Giorgio Caneparo, a loose cannon cop who endears himself to me right away by ruthlessly blowing away a couple of escaped convicts turned child killers. Unfortunately, he doesn’t endear himself much to the top brass, but thanks to his Commissioner, he might be spared the brunt of an investigation. However, when the Commissioner is gunned down in the streets, Giorgio is soon given a suspension from the force. Even though he’s been denied his badge, Giorgio is not going to let something like that stop his investigation into the shooting, and he decides to work his way into the underworld to get answers.

He does this just like you think he might. First he picks up a hooker, robs her, and finally waits until the next morning to work over her pimp. He takes over the operation, and soon makes himself a nuisance anywhere he can to try and get to attention of the big bosses. It doesn’t take long before they come calling and Padulo (Richard Conte) comes to hire him to be a driver in a bank heist. Busting up that heist brings him closer to getting his badge back, but no closer to finding out who killed his boss. Using his fists and guns, Giorgio busts his way further and further into the criminal organization until he finds out that money is not their only motivation, they intend to take over the country and destroy democracy.

I know that was a pretty long summation of the story, but it barely scratches the surface of the action contained in The Violent Professionals. This is a film chock full of fistfights, shootouts, and some of the craziest car chases filmed. I always enjoy seeing car chases in Italian films because I love to see people put the pedal to the metal of a Fiat. Those must have been the toughest cars ever made. Not only can they speed along the streets at breakneck speed, they can slam into each other heavily, ram their way through piles of burning crates, and propel themselves down the steepest of inclines and just drive away. This film features some of the best Fiat action I’ve ever seen, and I found it quite strange that the worst car footage comes when Merenda gets behind the wheel of a sports car in a poorly edited segment.

The first experience I had with Luc Merenda was seeing him as a Mexican? Indian? (Hard to say really.) in the Charles Bronson meets samurai western Red Sun, but recently I got my hands on the rare giallo Pensione paura (1977) and enjoyed him as the slimy Rudolfo. (You can check out a full review of that title and many others in the forthcoming Cinema de Bizarre newsletter) I was quite interested in checking him out in a lead role, and I quite liked him. It was interesting to see him go from detective to his undercover persona of a slimy pimp. He had a great hard stare, and while he will never be a Franco Nero or Fabio Testi in my eyes, I found his performance quite enjoyable and engaging. I must mention that I watched this film dubbed, and Merenda’s voice was provided by Michael Forest, a House of Corman veteran who did voiceover work for lots of Italian films.

The other standout performance of the film comes from Richard Conte, better known as Don Barzini to fans of The Godfather (1972). Having seen that film many times, just seeing Conte on the screen instantly made me dislike his character, and then he went on to give me plenty of good reason. Not only does he commands his gang to do despicable acts with no regard for the lives theytake, he is just one slimy little weasel. He also has a knock down drag out fight with Merenda where the much older actor looked like he was holding his own against the younger man.

The Violent Professionals is also greatly enhanced by the score of the De Angelis Brothers. These two fellows, who also provided scores for Yor, The Hunter from the Future (1983), Martino’s At the Mountain of the Cannibal God, and Castellarti’s The Big Racket, are consistently great when it comes to scoring films with action sequences. What Gobin is to Horror, and Morricone is to the Western, the De Angelis Brothers should be to action films. Every piece of music in this film perfectly fit the pace and timing of the feature, and I loved every moment.

The cinematography from frequent Martino collaborator Giancarlo Ferrando is nothing stunning, but it gets the job done and, in the case of the car chases, succeeds in making the moments quite thrilling. Ferrando, it should be noted, worked on many other projects including that trash classic of all time, Troll 2. The main strength of the film comes from the clever scripting of Ernesto Gastaldi. I really did not expect some of the turns the film took, and the idea of a gang having political motivations to reinstall a fascist state in Italy was quite interesting. Gastaldi was also the pen behind some of my other favorite films including Hands of Steel and Forbidden Photos of a Lady Beyond Suspicion as well as many, many more.

After seeing The Violent Professionals, it has only enhanced my desire to go further and further into Sergio Martino’s catalog. I do have to warn folks that I watched this from The Grindhouse Experience Vol 1 boxed set, and the film had a terrible buzz throughout. I was willing to overlook it because I liked the film, but it may well ruin the experience for some viewers. However, if you really like the crime genre or Sergio, then this is one I encourage you to check out. While it may not have been executed with the skill of some of the genre’s directors, the film has enough style and charm to more than make up for it.

This film is called Shocker. I want to state right away that it in no way has anything to do with The Shocker, and if you don’t know what that is, well, I’m not going to tell you. All I can tell you is that tonight’s entry of Whatcha Craven is not full of too many surprises. Well, there was one surprise for me, but thankfully it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, merely unfortunate.

In 1989, Wes Craven was desperate to spawn another franchise. Feeling like he hadn’t been paid all the money he was owed by New Line for the Nightmare series, he took a new idea to Universal in hopes that it would spawn sequels and residuals for years to come. The end result however had more in common with Nightmare on Elm Street 4-6 than Wes’ original masterpiece. With Shocker, Craven didn’t bother to try and recapture his former glory, and instead churned out a film that played right into what many horror fans feel are the weak points of Freddy’s final adventures.

Shocker is the story of Horace Pinker (Mitch Pileggi) a serial killer who’s already killed seven whole families and gotten away without a trace. When the cops do begin to close in, Pinker lashes out and kills lead detective Don Parker’s (Michael Murphy) whole family. After an accident, Parker’s foster son Jonathan (Peter Berg), who now lives on his own and is a football star at the local college, develops a connection to Pinker through his dreams. Eventually, Jonathan is able to lead the police to Pinker and the killer is caught, jailed, and sent to the electric chair. Pinker, who practices black magic, has made some kind of unholy pact, and after he is electrocuted, his soul lives on and he gains the ability to possess people and keep on killing. With the help of his dead girlfriend Allison (Cami Cooper), it’s up to Jonathan to come up with a way to defeat the body hopping, TV dwelling, electric killer.

I have to admit I was a bit confused when it came to this film. I had strong recollections of really enjoying it, but sometimes, as we get older, tastes change, memories fade, or worse yet, it’s not even the movie you remember it being. I completely had this movie confused with the much, much better and extremely similar film The Horror Show (1989) starring Lance Henrikson and Brion James. How this ever slipped my mind I’ll never know. I even had the good fortune to meet Mr. James at a sci fi convention in the early nineties and he was extremely surprised to have someone tell him how much they liked The Horror Show. Unfortunately, that fine film is out of print while this Wes Craven stinker still remains.

The main problem with Shocker is that as the film moves through its 109 minute running time what starts off as an interesting premise slowly becomes an almost unbearable exercise in foolishness. Mitch Pileggi, who would later achieve fame as Skinner on the X-Files, begins the film playing Horace Pinker as a ruthless cold blooded killer, but by the time the credits roll he’s reduced to spouting one liners that would make Henny Youngman cry. What is it about becoming a supernatural slasher that makes antagonists feel the desire to reel off puns and quips? Well, in this case, I think it was the cold hard cash that the Nightmare films were still taking in.

Craven wanted what he felt like was his, and so he proceeded to rip off anything that was theirs. Take for example the fact that Jonathan can track down Horace in his dreams, sounds a little familiar, right? How about Jonathan’s cop father who won’t believe a word his kid says about the killer? How about an appearance from Heather Langenkamp, Nancy from the original Nightmare? Sure, it was neat to see her in a cameo role in Craven’s film, but it just felt like more of Craven lifting from the successful franchise. The film, which starts off as a derivative but interesting slasher, devolves into a mess of desperate copycatting. Wes was just coming off the success of 1989’s The Serpent and the Rainbow, and for the life of me I can’t understand what made him stoop this low after hitting an artistic height with his previous film.

While Pileggi makes the most of his role (even the campy parts), the same can’t be said of his co-stars. Peter Berg, the future star of TV medical drama Chicago Hope, is just plain bad as the football star on the killer’s trail. He alternates from over-emoting to underselling his lines, and frankly, neither of the two was very good. Even as his girlfriend, coach, and pals get killed off by Pinker, I could never really get empathize with Berg’s Jonathan. Mr. Berg, I know Nancy, and you sir, are no Nancy.

The film does sport some pretty cool performances in the supporting cast. Ted Raimi, who I always love to see, pops up as Jonathan’s nerdy friend Pac-Man (Really, by ‘89 people were still nicknaming people Pac-Man?), and as usual, he provides a solid performance. You also get a small role from future Law & Order A.D.A Richard Brooks, longtime character actor Michael Murphy as the cop dad, and a blink and you miss him performance from Star Trek: The Next Generation’s Brent Spiner. The best cameos come from the most unexpected folks with John Tesh hamming it up as a news reporter, and best of all, Acid guru Tim Leary as a money grubbing Televangelist. The latter was the high point of the film for me.

I don’t really have much else to say about this film. It did have quite the opening theme from rock super group The Dudes of Wrath featuring Kiss’ Paul Stanley on vocals and Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee, but I reject the heresy that is the Megadeth cover of the Alice Cooper classic, “No More Mr. Nice Guy.” The score to the film was not memorable at all, and the film making itself was uneventful. In fact the romp through TV land that was the big effects bonanza was the worst part of the film, and I recall better looking effects in A-ha videos.

All in all, I wish I had remembered this film better going into it. Last week I found that people were quite divided on the love it or hate it film, The People Under the Stairs. I would find it very hard to believe that many folks would rush to Shocker’s defense, but who knows? There’s one more week left in Whatcha Craven, and next week I’m going to cover the first installment of the successful franchise Wes so craved. So check back next week, well, that is if you like scary movies.