This month sees the release of A Nightmare on Elm Street, a remake that’s been a long time coming. With so many slasher revivals going on, be they remakes or original properties, it’s important now to look back on the genre and learn a few of its intricacies. The wealth of material to cover is staggering. The films that follow do not necessarily represent the finest work the genre has to offer, but were selected for their uniqueness and appeal.
If any of these tickle your fancy, I've included some Amazon links to buy the ones that are still in print. Unless otherwise noted, all of these releases present the films in their original aspect ratio and in their most complete versions available to date.
[Note: While extensive measures have been taken to eliminate graphic details in deconstructing the films, trailers and clips have been provided wherever applicable. They can at times be exceedingly violent, and quite spoiler-heavy. We urge you to use judgment before viewing them. Thank you.]
Inferno (IMDb)
1980, Dario Argento
The core difference between director Dario Argento’s celebrated Suspiria and its overlooked follow-up, Inferno, is simple: Inferno hates you. Whereas Suspiria allows its viewer to follow along some obscure thread of logic and motive, Inferno does its damndest to keep you as far from your comfort zone as possible. It represents a cruel joke of a picture refuting any and all logical structure above the primordial level. Introducing characters whenever it feels like, globetrotting at a moment’s whim, and inventing wholly terrifying scenarios whenever you start to think you’re able to breathe, calling Inferno a narrative in any traditional sense strains the term to tearing. Actions seem unfounded and morals remain unclear even days or weeks after a viewing, but never will you forget the experience.
Suspiria is renowned for its seemingly unmotivated, yet painterly lighting scheme. Colors fly from corners of rooms that couldn’t possibly contain them, though bizarrely, they seem to fit the wondrous vision of estrangement Argento set out to concoct. Suspiria seems bathed in greens and reds and yellows, in a style very much designed to mimic Snow White & the Seven Dwarves, with more blood. The world seems to swirl around its subjects, intoxicating the viewer.
Inferno takes a very different approach, drowning interiors and exteriors alike in the morbid hues of your most vivid nightmare. This is often said of Suspiria, but can be misleading. Suspiria overwhelms through excess and brightness, using its darker sequences to bring on a sense of dread which can be logically telegraphed by a careful viewer. Inferno takes place almost uniformly in shadow, the rare glimpse of sunlight seeming equally cruel in its execution. Argento maintains his focus and stability, forcing his audience to sit still, head cocked, and attempt to wrap their heads around why this all seems so familiar.
Suspiria’s infamous score was constructed by the Italian prog-rock maestros known as Goblin, headed by Claudio Simonetti. Inferno is notable as well for its equally hypnotic and audacious score by Keith Emerson. Emerson’s work seems to mimic Goblin’s, but serves as far more motivating. It is without question the most logically grounding element Inferno offers to its viewers, which is not to say that it should ever be trusted.
The American trailer for Inferno:
Blue Underground often re-releases Anchor Bay Entertainment’s more popular releases once they go out of print (like Inferno). Lucky you, here's Amazon.
He Knows You’re Alone (IMDb)
1980, Armand Mastroianni
Just thirty years ago, before producing The Pacific and Band of Brothers with Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks made his screen debut in this technically uninspired but nonetheless chilling rehash of Halloween.
Might someone be hiding in your home right now?
Sleepaway Camp II:
Unhappy Campers (IMDb)
Sleepaway Camp III:
Teenage Wasteland (IMDb)
1988, 1989, Michael A. Simpson
Comparing Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers, and the following summer’s Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland, is among the most intriguing exercises one will encounter in this area. Both films were shot over one summer by director Michael A. Simpson, they both credit Fritz Gordon as their writer, and they both star Bruce Springsteen’s sister, Pamela Springsteen. Even with all this, though, the two films couldn’t be more disparate. 1988’s Unhappy Campers is an ugly, repugnant movie, at times monumentally unprofessional and at others simply vile and impossible to enjoy. The film breaks its own rules constantly, and Springsteen serves as the film’s only redeeming element, beautiful and chipper.
Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland, on the other hand, deserves whole-hearted recommendation. Seeing the films back to back, one would be blind not to see artistic growth in every frame. From the far more intuitive scenario (Ripped off a few times in later years, as in See No Evil), to the quality of the writing and the tightness of the production design, it’s leaps and bounds ahead of the same team’s output from the previous year. Pamela Springsteen is even better here, just as funny and with vastly superior material to work with. The supporting players are never boring, the set pieces are far more inventive, and though the two films are exactly the same length, Teenage Wasteland goes by twice as fast. It’s self-conscious without seeming stupid, it goes to darker places than its predecessor while staying true to its far more fun-loving vision.
The Sleepaway Camp series is a strange lot. The first film has a rather large cult following, as do both of the sequels, but few slasher fans reside in both camps. Those who prefer the seedier genre output of the early eighties will almost certainly prefer Robert Hiltzik’s original Sleepaway Camp to the self-conscious nature of the sequels. There was, in fact, a planned fourth film, Sleepaway Camp IV: The Survivor, footage from which has been edited together in various fashions and can be found online. It’s horrendous, though.
Sleepaway Camp II and III never had traditional trailers, as they were shot primarily for home video. The first clip below is from SCII, and serves to introduce the characters, as well as the catchy and charming Happy Camper Song. The second clip is from early on in SCIII, and you’ll get some blood there.
The Ripper (IMDb)
1985, Christopher Lewis
The Ripper is significant in only one respect: It was the first film shot exclusively for home video. All the dull direct-to-DVD torture horror plaguing what’s left of that last Blockbuster in your town owes a debt to this obscurity. It’s also an abhorrent, brutal, savagely vicious film but without any redeeming theories or ideas. As slasher flicks go, it’s neither the worst, nor the most cruel, but it certainly stands as the least enjoyable film on this list, and one of the most ethically bankrupt movies ever made. Tom Savini’s in it for about two minutes.
Director Christopher Lewis directed three shot-on-video-for-video cut ‘em ups between 1985 and 1986, The Ripper, Blood Cult and Revenge (AKA Blood Cult 2). All of them are available on DVD, courtesy of the colorfully titled Ripper Blood Pack.
The perfect gift for somebody you probably know.
Final Destination (2000) (IMDb)
Final Destination 2 (2003) (IMDb)
Final Destination 3 (2006) (IMDb)
The Final Destination (2009) (IMDb)
Glen Morgan, David R. Ellis
Final Destination, like Saw, has developed into a buzzword on sequels. They always seem to make money, yet their initial sparks continue to dwindle.
Final Destination was a scary film. It built up its initial tension from nowhere; an intangible sense of things just not being right. It played on the pointless nervousness people go through from time to time, a fear of everything without any reason. It benefited from being the first of its kind. It was high-concept and executed without noticeable fail. Plotted with grace and maturity, it still stands up today. Its distinct brand of gallows humor was entirely cynical, and frustratingly relatable. Glen Morgan’s direction of his first feature was an obvious case of pain-staking effort and meticulous planning, much like the Goldbergian death traps its characters face.
Final Destination 2, directed by David R. Ellis (Snakes on a Plane), took the series in a more light-hearted direction, playing off what the audience knew they’d be getting in a smart and inventive fashion. Its humor was more wry, its gore was more elaborate, and its story found the rare balance of originality and familiarity. Fun, fast-paced and damned inventive, it was where the sequels should have stopped.
Final Destination 3 brought Glen Morgan back, and for a bit, it seemed reasonable. Whereas the first film took time to develop itself, and the first sequel moved things along just a hair faster at the start, FD3 used its impressive opening credit sequence and little else to simultaneously reintroduce the tone of the series and get its audience ready for a ride. But it’s clear what went wrong. The film was poorly cast, its characters bland and forgettable. The writing was of lesser quality. The tonal development of the series had stagnated. The effects were far less impressive. The payoffs rarely lived up to their possibilities. On top of that, the finale was an uninspired bore, despite having ample potential for a memorable sendoff.
The Final Destination saw David R. Ellis return. It toyed with its audience far more than the previous installments. In this sense, it stood as a marked improvement. But shot for 3D, the film’s cinematography was uninspired, and what new ideas it brought to the table were poorly executed. Tension in-between scare sequences was non-existent, and so the fourth film’s noticeable strengths were overwhelmed by its inefficiencies.
Developing a single idea into a series is hard work. The unfortunate results of the third and fourth installments, particularly when those at the helm are considered, inspires one to wonder where Final Destination 5 will take us.
Buy them on Amazon in an array of options for you, in standard-def or HD
Raw Meat (IMDb)
1972, Gary Sherman
AKA: Death Line
Raw Meat’s out there. Scary, sure, but not without purpose. It means to intrigue before it repulses, and it works. The story is that of an unfortunate, diseased soul living under London, as well as a young couple and a copper. There is a remarkable sympathy for Raw Meat’s devil, perhaps more than its heroes. Donald Pleasence’s investigator is easy to hate, but his methods are just as easy to respect, whereas our other male protagonist serves only to test our patience. The film is calculated to keep you interested when you’re quite sure you have no reason to be, and misses no opportunity to rip you from your comfort zone. Breathtaking imagery is backed up by moist, sickly underground ambience. In its practice, it is remarkably effective.
Psycho II (IMDb)
1983, Richard Franklin
Upon the eve of Psycho's release, Alfred Hitchcock allegedly had Universal swear to never finance a sequel while he was alive. In 1983, the year following Hitch’s death, Psycho II arrived in theaters. While this admittedly must seem like the Hollywood cash machine at work, it must be noted that Robert Bloch, the novel’s original author, had written sequel years prior, which Hitchcock refused to see filmed. The book and the movie are not the same story. In fact, they couldn’t really differ more.
The film was directed by Richard Franklin (The terrifying rarity, Patrick), and written by Tom Holland (Child’s Play). In developing what happened to Norman so many years since audiences had checked up on him, Holland was under a great deal of pressure. What he came up with was an entirely different story, with very few recurring characters and an undeniable sense of unease throughout. Moreover, the story has the distinct quality of not being fair. It deals, like so many things, with the treacherous line between morally justifiable action and basic human evil.
Norman, for all intents and purposes, seems to be cured at picture’s start. Those he interacts with seem either understandably hostile or outright cruel, with few exceptions. So when Norman seems to start cracking around the edges, we feel sorry for him. We don’t know why we should. Perhaps it’s because deep down, we all want to believe people can change, that our legal system and psychiatric treatments work. As onlookers from a very objective perspective, though, all we see are the frustratingly honest machinations of weaker, less trusting people.
To divulge all that much on Psycho II would spoil its appeal, which puts those persons discussing it at a rather sincere disadvantage, as the phrase “There’s a Psycho II?” seems destined to live on well-beyond the actual film. Like many of the best sequels, it preys on the familiarity of its predecessor with maturity and intelligence, but would stand on its own quite well if not for the unavoidable comparison.
Psycho II was marketed by evil geniuses, as this trailer will clearly show. The studio also had Franklin open the film in this manner, in an effort to further cheapen the product.
Psycho II is available on its own…or in a collection with Psycho III and IV.
Valentine (IMDb)
2001, Jamie Blanks
When we curl up with a book, watch a cheesy horror movie, observe an old painting, we’re searching for order; a reprieve from the chaos in the next room. Jamie Blanks’ Valentine is one of those movies that wishes only to frustrate you further. It offers ambiguity, in lieu of answers. Even as its denouement comes to a close, and we seem to have the answers, and they seem to make some sort of sense, we can’t help but feel betrayed. Like the album we listen to that we don’t talk about, or the movie we just can’t admit how many times we’ve seen, Valentine may never offer any answers, but it can help us to figure out the questions.
Bloodsucking Freaks (IMDb)
1976, Joel M. Reed
AKA: The Incredible Torture Show
“Good, good good good good good, oh, what a marvelous, wonderful, attentive audience you are, and may I add, a brave one, too. Now those of you who are weak-willed, or cowards, would have fled by now or, or regurgitated over the seats in front of you, but why? Really? This is just a theatrical presentation – a show, which offers no reality; not a fraction of reality, and just allows us, you and me, to delve into our grossest fantasies, far beyond erotica. I am Sardu, master of the theatre of the macabre. Tonight, we begin with torture. Again I warn you, that if you find what you see, is a little upsetting to your stomachs, then just pretend we’re play-acting. But if you’re skeptical or bored, then just pretend that what you see, is real.” - Master Sardu addresses his audience.
It is sickening. It is vile. It is disgusting, and revolting. It has a piss-yellow stink about it from beginning to end. It was shot in a dark theater in 1976, on dirt cheap 16mm film. The overwhelming majority of its content is on the dehumanization of women through endless, inescapable torture. It is Bloodsucking Freaks.
Director Joel M. Reed didn’t work much after the film was released; it was banned due to female protest. Upon seeing the film now, it’s a shame. While the film is sadistic in the extreme, Reed makes it perfectly clear from the opening minutes that his art is designed with maturity and backed by a clear moral. It is not violence and degradation for the sake of violence and degradation. It is not sadism without judgment. Like any film with something to say, it has every right to be seen. Anyone who sits through the first five minutes today will likely see the point, and can then decide if they wish to turn it off. Nobody ever forced anybody to sit through it, one should hope.
Certain films live in whispers, in speeches about the craziest shit you’ve ever seen. A lot of them aren’t worth the time it would take to hunt them down. Bloodsucking Freaks is available on DVD, and often On Demand, so anyone with that itch to scratch can feel free to scratch it.
Buy it? A fully-stocked special edition is available from Troma, if you dare.
The Funhouse (IMDb)
1981, Tobe Hooper
After The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Tobe Hooper did a movie called Eaten Alive. It’s trash, more or less. His next film was the TV adaptation of Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot, which was far more successful. The Funhouse was next. Like Hooper’s best stuff, it revels in its dynamic excess. It’s a vibrant and macabre little flick, with a far better conveyed subtext than most of his work, and its palpable sense of dread builds to a fantastic showdown. His setting also alleviates the burden of clearly defined geography, the way any good horror flick set in a funhouse should. It’s far more obscure, but should you find a copy of 1973’s Malatesta’s Carnival of Blood, it covers similar ground to better effect.
Fun fact: Steven Spielberg allegedly offered Hooper the chance to direct E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, but was turned down so The Funhouse could be finished on schedule. Allegedly.
Pieces (IMDb)
1982, Juan Piquer Simón
AKA: Mil gritos tiene la noche
“It’s exactly what you think it is.”
Pieces gets mentioned in conversation more than most of the films on this list, solely due to its notoriety. The majority of these films have been relative obscurities even in more select circles, but Pieces seems to be on the ears of even the completely non-curious, once they first hear of its existence. A Spanish/Italian co-production, it stands as one of the most deplorably repugnant features most folks will ever come across.
Pieces offends a lot of people. It’s been called one of the most irredeemably misogynistic films ever made by just about everyone who’s ever seen it. Its depictions of murder are among the most shocking and gratuitous ever put to film, rarely looking phony in any regard. Imagery from Pieces, removed from their cinematic context, could easily be regarded as genuine. Moreover, the murders are portrayed in such alarming detail that first-time viewers are still being physically sickened almost thirty years after the picture’s release.
While Pieces’ uninteresting police procedural narrative gives way to considerable downtime, there are precious few instances where one might consider him or herself at ease. Within the first three minutes, more blood is shed than in most R-rated horror films being released in 2010, but far more important is the disarming ferocity of these sequences. You, the reader, might expect a half-hearted attempt at rationalizing the appeal of such a film. This would be in vain. Pieces is an assault on the senses, a powerful shock to the very core of human reason. You should look away.
Back in late 2008, Bob Murawski and Grindhouse Releasing, put out the first uncut, widescreen edition of Pieces ever released in America. It is a towering and magnificent 2-disc set that will intimidate whatever’s next to it on your shelf.
Chopping Mall (IMDb)
1986, Jim Wynorski
AKA: Killbots
Chopping Mall. Just say it.
The movie isn’t that good.
A nice collection of short bonus features on this one. The film’s about to hit its silver anniversary, but it’s doubtful they’ve got much in store for an Ultimate Edition of Chopping Mall.
Black Christmas (IMDb)
1974, Bob Clark
“If this film doesn’t make your skin crawl… It’s On Too Tight!”
Truer words have seldom graced a video cover. Director Bob Clark’s first Christmas story wasn’t one of fanciful dreams, but of waking nightmares. While the slasher genre has had a long history of placing seemingly innocent women in places of danger, Black Christmas refuses to let them in on the joke. None of the victims are made aware of their impending fate until it’s far too late. They aren’t given a reason to fear their environment, and their motivation for going up to the attic or checking out a quiet room on their own is always justified. Because they aren’t frightened, we fear for them.
As these events exclusively take place inside the same house, it’s a wonder Clark is able to keep his subjects in check, but the logic of the film holds up to nearly endless scrutiny time and time again. With a dozen or so would-be victims, each of them intricately and clearly developed, the possibilities for failure are staggering. From Margot Kidder’s (Superman the Movie) tragically overbearing boozing mess to Olivia Hussey’s (Romeo and Juliet) strong-willed rational thinker, every girl in the house represents their histories in a masterly fashion. The cursory characters as well, shine, from Keir Dullea (2001: A Space Odyssey) to John Saxon (A Nightmare on Elm Street).
Less a story about murder and more about the real possibility of it, Black Christmas is every single bit as chilling as it was in 1973. Though it is mostly referred to as “The movie Halloween ripped off,” it couldn’t be a more different film in its approach. There is a bizarre sense of security when compared to Black Christmas. Throughout Halloween, there’s someone that seems to have an idea of what’s happening. There’s an entire neighborhood to hide in. There are exits, and reasons to use them. Halloween’s logic is also at fault since Laurie never seems to have much trouble getting the sucker on the floor. Black Christmas’ stalker, known as Billy, is an ever-present force, a phantom, and a reminder that no matter how safe we feel, we can’t ever be.
Note: Critical Mass released a long out of print 25th Anniversary Edition of Black Christmas in its original full frame version. When it came time to restore the film and put together some new features, they used a director-approved matted version. Please keep this in mind before ordering if you’re a purist.
Special Edition DVD from Critical Mass and the Blu-ray
