Showing posts with label frank darabont. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frank darabont. Show all posts

Monday, October 28, 2019

The Frat Pack


A staple of the VHS slasher era, Hell Night is one of those movies that represents so much of the 1980s horror world: deformed killers, haunted house, teenage sex, and Linda Blair. It's been a good 30 or so years since a far-too-young little me watched it, but now that it's streaming on Shudder, it seemed like the time had come for a perfectly seasonal revisit.

Quick Plot: It's Halloween night, and the big Alpha Sigma Rho fraternity and its sister sorority are throwing their annual spooky bash. After a good few hours of drinking and other usual hijinks, frat president Peter sends four pledges to their big Greek test: spend the evening in Garth Manor, a gloriously gothic mansion that once housed an unhappy family whose birth defects led the patriarch to slaughter his kin.


Left alone, our quartet quickly pair off. Pill-popping Denise and surfer dude Seth head to the bedroom, while good girl mechanic Marti and nice rich guy Jeff make more innocent flirty conversation. Peter and some of the other seniors roam the grounds with a few extra pranks in mind, but before they can give the freshmen any real good scares, each is hunted down by a mysteriously large and grumbling figure.


Directed by prolific adult filmmaker (and helmer of the first few days of Savage Streets' shoot) Tom DeSimone, Hell Night is very much a mediocre product of its time. In this case, that means post-Halloween one-crazy-night teen-filled slashers. 

We have our good girl with the gender-neutral first name, her promiscuous bestie fated to die first, the surprise party filled with dead friends, and most of the other hallmarks you'd expect in 1981. It's surprisingly slow in ratcheting up the horrors, which is unfortunate when that involves a whole lot of small talk between pretty dull characters.


As anyone aware of my feelings on Summer of Fear or Savage Streets knows, I adore '80s era Linda Blair. Unfortunately, even here at the height of her scream queen reign, Marti and her pals just don't get to be that interesting. This wouldn't be so bad if the film didn't insist on giving them so many bland conversations. Our hearts go out to Linda Blair as she eventually sprints away from the killer, but no love is really lost for a boring college romance that thankfully never was. 



Thankfully, Hell Night has enough style up its frilled sleeve to remain quite watchable. The killers are barely more memorable than their victims, but between the candlelit hallways, staked gates, and rich Halloween costume palette, the film ultimately carries enough visual punch to stay in our heads.



High Points
There's a reason I remember Hell Night so vividly: the costumes. Setting your film in a decently propped gothic mansion and clothing your stars in flapper wear and crushed velvet really does wonders for the film, making its visual impact so much more interesting than its otherwise rather rote storytelling 



Low Points
There's a reason these kinds of films became dismissively characterized as "dead teenager flicks," and it's the blandness here that shows it

Lessons Learned
Rich capitalists feeds on the life of the downtrodden poor

Fraternities build relationships you'll have your whole life, although if you're spending the night in a haunted house, that life may prove to be very short


It's not a party until the windows break

Quaaludes are murder on the skin



Fun Fact
Perhaps we have to respect Hell Night for being partially responsible for 1988's The Blob: a young Chuck Russell and Frank Darabont served as (respectively) executive producer and production assistant 


Rent/Bury/Buy
Hell Night isn't overly scary or fun, but it's a good-looking slasher perfectly suited to the October horror season. Queue it up on Shudder for an appropriate autumn watch.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Touch Down, Doll's House Style


Break out the guacamole and beer, it’s Super Bowl Sunday! Watch grown men hug in tight tight pants! Pity well-toned cheerleaders prancing around in hopes of staying warm enough to not catch pneumonia! See millions of dollars spent on talking babies advertising websites that will probably be gone by the time Shutter Island finally premieres!

Or don't. Not a football fan? How unAmerican (literally, as who else in their right mind watches football?). Thankfully, there are alternative activities appropriate for  this February 7th, and I'm not talking about the Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl (although that is damn adorable).

Queue up the television and gear up for a non-football Sunday involving football in genre film!

The Blob 1986


One of my favorite underappreciated horror films of the ‘80s, Chuck Russell’s remake (!!!) is a must for any horror devotee. Original gore, surprising kills, and a genuine spirit of fun makes this 1988 film (with a script co-written by some Stephen King fan named Frank Darabont) rewarding viewing for any day...particularly if you’re not a fan of football.

The Blob doesn’t do much with the sport, but one of its best twists revolves around its assumed Big Man On Campus hero, a nice young man in a letter jacket who seems poised to save the cheerleader and annihilate the giant thickened liquid devouring its way through local diners and movie theaters. He’s handsome in that bland kind of high school way but, as his premature fate proves, dude's got nothing on Kevin Dillon’s fabulously mulleted badboy. Consider this soon-to-be-remade-again classic a touchdown for outsiders harnessing death wishes on wedgie making jocks.

The Running Man


True, there’s never a wrong time to pop in this 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger gem. Between the kickass action, colorful villains (where else have you seen a homicidal opera singer dressed like Lite Brite?) brilliant dialogue (“I’ll be back!” “Only in a rerun.”), and ahead of its time satire, Paul Michael Glaser gives Stephen King--excuse me, Richard Bachman--a worthy adaptation of fun and violent goofiness. 

In 20 years, this is probably the kind of show that would air immediately after the big game, and I for one would be far more thrilled to sit through Jesse Ventura’s Captain Freedom punching a neon spandex-wearing muscle man than a special guest star clogged episode of Friends. And hey, with two politicians playing lead roles, what could be more American. Still not sold on its pigskin pedigree? What if I told you the reigning champion of The Running Man (the game, not the movie) was former Cleveland Browns star Jim Brown? And his character is named Fireball? Because his weapon of choice is a flamethrower? Plus, there's hockey for the Canadians, classical music for the cultured, and Richard Dawson for the elderly fans of Family Feud. Everybody's a winner (except for most of the cast, who die)!

The Faculty


Looking past the somewhat dated CGI, Robert Rodriguez’s hybrid high school sci-fi/horror is arguably one of the best--or at least, freshest--genre films of the 1990s. Take a Dawson’s Creek ready cast of walking teenage archetypes, sprinkle in some killer cameos (Salma Hayek, Jon Stewart, Piper Laurie, to name a few) and inject some Invasion of the Body Snatchers style  and you get a successful mash-up of homage and new horror. 

But what makes this soft R-Rated 1998 flick worth your Super Bowl Sunday? Did you hear the part where I mentioned it’s set in high school? And let me add, a small town. If films and television have taught us anything, it’s that any middle America hamlet is required to devote half its budget and much of its glory to football. The Faculty has a lot of fun with this, cheekily showing the benefit of a close-contact game when you’re trying to take over the world with an easily transmitted alien virus. Shawn Hatosy‘s star quarterback even gets a poignant identity crisis storyline, but it’s ultimately Robert Patrick who makes this a film to replace the first two quarters  you were planning on devoting to the Saints & Colts. Strict sports coaches can be a scary thing--I’ve seen Freddy’s Revenge--but only the T-1000 himself can succeed at being so coldly menacing while wearing a pair of unflattering gym shorts.

Play Zombies Ate My Neighbors


Granted, this one takes a little nostalgic pack-rackism on your part, but if you've saved that dusty Super Nintendo system and more importantly, this superbly fantastic game, you've got an entire Sunday of pure bliss staring at you in 16 bit graphics. 

The story is simple: a small town with an abundance of water pistols, beaches, Egyptian musuems, castles, shopping malls, hedge mazes, and toxic waste dumps has been invaded by a whole lot of classic movie monsters (including, but not limited to mummies, vampires, werewolves, axe-throwing dolls, clones, Tremors, 50' tall babies, spiders, giant ants, Martians, blobs, and of course, the titular undead). Your job? Save as many civilians as you can. As cheerleaders are worth the most points, Zombies Ate My Neighbors is more than fitting for Super Bowl Day, especially since one level is set on a football field where your character must dodge fast gliding quarterbacks to grab the bouncing blond. 

So good luck to the betting men and women out there, go Colts if you're a Colts fan, Saints if you're a Saints fan, and godaddy.com if you're a daddy dot com. Otherwise, happy sort-of genre film football day to all!