Psychos In Love (1987)
Dir. and written by Gorman Bechard
Starring Carmine Capobianco,
Debi Thibeault, Frank Stewart
PSYCHOS IN LOVE begins
unpromisingly, with some unappealing lighting, awkward blocking, disorienting
editing, and hectoring repetition, all of which leads to a shot-for-shot parody
of the PYSCHO shower scene which is so played out by this point that I almost
turned the movie off then and there. But then, just as things start to look
hopeless, something unexpected happens: the same sequence of images and words
play through again, only this time with a different conclusion, subverting the
established expectations. And suddenly it becomes clear that all the labored
repetition was put in place so it could be intentionally disrupted. How bout
that, huh? This isn’t just random slapdash incompetence. I mean, it's that too, but despite how
crude it looks, someone purposefully made specific choices here in order to
pursue a specific goal.
This will more or less
describe the entire movie. It's crude, and sometimes out-and-out amateurish in
its construction, but it has something that very, very few zero-budget
independent "American Regional Horror" films (or, hell, these day
even --and maybe especially-- a big-budget films!) can claim to possess: a real
sense of purpose. It's trying to do something unique and specific, and it's
making artistic decisions to try and accomplish that goal. That may not sound
like much, but it makes all the difference in the world between a hollow genre
exercise and something vastly more interesting.
This unusual focus is
unexpected enough on its own, but what makes it even more shocking is that the
particular purpose being pursued here is actually an interesting one (if more so in the execution than the conceit). The premise is simple: a schlubby bartender
(Carmine Capobianco, GALACTIC GIGOLO) and a vivacious manicurist (Debi
Thibeault, CEMETERY HIGH) bond over their mutual pathological hatred of
grapes... oh, and also the fact that they're both prolific serial killers. This
seems like an easy setup for an exploration of a poisonous relationship that
blooms into some nihilistic sadism, a la THE HONEYMOON KILLERS or NATURAL BORN
KILLERS. But PSYCHOS IN LOVE goes in a completely unexpected direction: their
shared predilection towards homicide actually makes them a really compatible
pair, and the movie is much more interested in exploring the complications of a
healthy, mutually honest relationship than a toxic one.
I mean, don't get me
wrong, there's a ton of murder in here, all of it played as broad --and
sometimes out-and-out slapstick-- black comedy. But the film has a refreshing
sweetness and sincerity to it that puts the characters and their relationship
first. And to its credit, it never creates the expected, easy conflict about
whether or not they'll stay together. They love each other and there's never
any talk about breaking up, but that doesn't mean their relationship isn't
complicated by jealousy, boredom, fears of loss of individuality, the tedious
routine that comes with constantly disposing of hacked-up corpses, and so on.
It's a rare story about relationships which recognizes that they are defined
not by dramatic lows and passionate highs, but in negotiating the small
foibles of life with honesty and empathy, and a commitment to both the
relationship as a whole and to the partners as individuals. In fact, despite
all the blood and nudity, its primary artistic inspiration seems to be more ANNIE
HALL than PSYCHO, right down to its characters directly addressing the
camera and occasionally indulging in some surreal meta comedy about their
awareness that they're in a movie.*
Of course, resisting the
easy will-they-won’t-they drama also forces the movie into something of a
dilemma: it needs some sort of conflict in order to create a narrative, but
doesn’t have the heart to push the lovebirds apart. It partially compensates
with a subplot about another serial killer in the same town, this one a
cannibal plumber (Frank Stewart, GALACTIC GIGOLO). He too is killing victims,
and it’s clear that at some point he’s going to encounter our protagonists and
complicate their lives in some way, in what could generously be called a
climax. But really, most of the movie isn’t about that, and consequently the
movie is less a “story” than it is a series of vignettes that offer little
glimpses into the evolution of the central relationship, as excitement and
passion give way to ennui and routine and force the two lovebirds to reevaluate
who they are and what kind of life they want. It’s not exactly psychologically
deep stuff --most of the movie is composed of goofy jokes and comic murder
scenes-- but there’s an unmistakable
sincerity and thoughtfulness that makes you take the characters seriously, even
in some blatantly cartoonish scenarios.
I don't want to
overpraise it -- it IS crudely constructed, repetitive, indifferently paced, and suffuse
with the sort of awkward editing and blocking that you might expect in
something this cheap and primitive (none of which is helped by its inescapable lack of stakes or narrative urgency). But both leads are genuinely charming,
and the movie's approach is so unique and surprisingly insightful that it's
hard to hold the occasionally amateurish construction against it. And as
ungainly as it can get, there’s a surprising and undeniable wit that underlies
it all. Plenty of Z-grade horror movies offer campy chuckles, but PSYCHOS IN
LOVE has some real earned laughs, some of them pretty lowbrow (there's a
sequence about an unkillable stripper that's as unapologetically sophomoric as
it is hilarious) but others rather more sophisticated (one scene finds a
potential victim dumping her entire depressing life story on her would-be
killer, bumming him out so much that the tables unexpectedly turn). Considering
I’m usually overjoyed to find a film this obscure which can even offer a
handful of eccentric moments, finding one which genuinely succeeds on its own
merits feels nothing short of miraculous. A big thank you to Vinegar Syndrome
for rescuing this hidden gem from an unwarranted obscurity.
* In fact, I notice that
late in the movie when the characters get a VCR and rent dozens of horror
movies, ANNIE HALL is the only box remaining in the “Sci-Fi/Horror” section of
the video store. It’s also funny that while the movie makes a big joke about
all the franchise sequels, it’s only 1987 so there are only six Jason movies!
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