DeepStar Six

DeepStar [sic] Six (1989)

Dir. Sean S. Cunningham

Written by Lewis Abernathy, Geof Miller

Starring Taurean Blacque, Nancy Everhard, Greg Evigan, Miguel Ferrer

            It’s hardly surprising that a movie as successful and iconic as ALIEN would spawn its own subgenre of ripoffs, but an odd blurring of that inevitability began to set in around the late 80s. For some reason, possibly the upcoming release of James Cameron’s followup to ALIENS, Hollywood really got stuck on the idea of doing “ALIENS but underwater” and for the next two decades it kinda became its own subgenre. I mean, you could loosely include THE ABYSS, DEEPSTAR SIX, THE EVIL BELOW, LORDS OF THE DEEP, THE RIFT, LEVIATHAN, DEEP RISING, BELOW, VIRUS, SECTOR 7 and SPHERE in that category, and that’s pretty much off the top of my head. I’m sure there are more. Obviously it was a concept far too creatively rich to stop with just ten.

            Weirdly, six of those –THE ABYSS, LORDS OF THE DEEP, THE EVIL BELOW, THE RIFT, LEVIATHAN, and today’s subject, DEEPSTAR SIX—came out within a year of each other, from 1989-1990. So I guess I can understand why audiences’ patience for them was wearing a little thin. Still, even with that in mind, the hostility with which DEEPSTAR SIX was met seems unwarranted, particularly since it was the first such film out of the gate, hitting theaters in January 1989. It’s currently sitting at an impressive 0% on rottentomatoes, with excoriating contemporary reviews from Gene Siskel (who called the film “tiresome” and complained that “the women are aggressive”) and Janet Maslin (who called the film “not much more interesting than the average bedroom closet” [?]). Words like “tedious,” “tiresome,” “predictable,” and “derivative” recur. Even the most positive review I could find –Richard Harrington’s short take in The Washington Post, January 14, 1989, calls it “well shot, well edited, and well paced” with a “competent cast” and visual effects which are “often quite good, if not plentiful enough”—can barely summon the energy to defend it, musing, in the end, that it “seems to have gone to the idea-well just a bit too often -- or is that not often enough?”

            That sort of ambivalence seems common to most of the reviews. They’re confident it’s garbage, but they can’t really settle on why, except that it’s broadly derivative. Which is, like, not exactly an unfair characterization, but jeez, if they thought this was derivative, wait til they see THE RIFT. In fact, considering the genre and its pedigree –directed by FRIDAY THE 13th's Sean S. Cunningham, fresh off three immediately forgotten teen flicks--, DEEPSTAR SIX is an almost unbelievably classy joint, with a production and performances which come perilously close to “real movie” level, a result incalculably more unlikely than the odds that it would be derivative. Not that it’s an unfairly maligned classic or anything, but there’s far more good than bad about it.

            Crucially, it’s one of the very, very few post-ALIEN ripoffs to come anywhere near recapturing that film’s unique “truckers in space” aesthetic. Sure, these “truckers” are a mix of military and civilian crew on a experimental deepsea colonization mission, but nevertheless they’re a scruffy, easygoing lot, more CLERKS than THE RIGHT STUFF. They’re mostly young, green, low-skilled, poorly trained, much more experienced with the grinding monotony of submarine life than with white-knuckled danger. Even our blandly attractive co-leads (Nancy Everhard, THE UNTOUCHABLES, the Dolph Lundgren PUNISHER, and Greg Evigan, prolific TV and SyFy channel actor) seem believably blue-collar, pretty but approachable, competent but fallible. They’re backed up by an excellent supporting cast, including Taurean Blacque (Hill Street Blues, inexplicably given top billing for a comparably small role) a very young Nia Peeples (HALF PAST DEAD, 130 episodes of The Young And The Restless, the video for Prince’s Raspberry Beret) Cindy Pickett (Ferris’ mom in FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF!), Matt McCoy (ABOMINABLE!) and most notably, Miguel Ferrer (ROBOCOP, Twin Peaks) as the high-strung dumbfuck who is gonna snap and get everyone killed.

Now, I’m on record professing that good acting rarely contributes much of real value to genre films, which are so much more about incident than character. But here, as in ALIEN, much of the film’s texture comes from its evocation of a believable world populated by workaday, relatable adults (in itself a significant pivot for Cunningham, who had previously worked almost entirely with teen casts) put in a difficult, high-stress situation full of tough choices. That’s where having such a venerable ensemble of character actors, well-versed in taking small roles and making them feel distinct and vivid, pays off; even once the dialogue turns definitively to yelling exposition (“these cartridges expired six months ago!” “What happens when it goes supercritical?”) they still seem like genuine humans and not just expendable body count. MVP indisputably goes to Ferrer, though, who goes way above and beyond to make his hapless fuckup somewhat sympathetic. Entirely through his performance, he informs us that this guy is certainly an abrasive asshole, but he’s in no way a villain; he’s just a dumb kid who’s just barely qualified for his job, cracking up under pressure, and overcompensating by being a dick. And the rest of the cast seems to respond to that, acting sensibly and compassionately instead of sliding into the usual contentious screaming match. Even once Ferrer starts getting people killed, almost everyone is very understanding and forgiving; he’s much harder on himself than they are, but that just pushes him to act more rashly. The character is bedrock standard for the genre and transparently a lazy plot device on the page, but Ferrer’s performance, and the way the cast react to him, feel unexpectedly legitimate and maybe even tragic, turning some plotting which could deservedly be called “derivative” into something more compelling and vital.

Which is good, because it turns out that DEEPSTAR SIX is actually more of a survival-adventure film than a horror flick for the majority of its runtime. I can dig that; the cast is solid enough to keep it functional, and there are a few genuinely well-structured suspense scenes (one of which recalls, in a good way, the terrific "cliffhanging" sequence from JURASSIC PARK: THE LOST WORLD). But I will concede it’s just as well that a giant monster puppet eventually does turn up. It’s obviously better to be a low-rent ALIENS than a low-rent POSEIDON ADVENTURE. Fortunately the wait is worth it; the final critter, designed by Chris Walas (THE FLY, GREMLINS) and built by Mark Shostrom (EVIL DEAD II, THE BEYOND, NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3) is great, a practical effect that looks genuinely alive and completely novel (it has a crustacean or arthropod feel to it; some reviews compare it to the extinct "sea scorpion" Eurypterid). It’s obviously a gigantic and impressively detailed puppet, so it’s a real shame that Cunningham doesn’t do a better job establishing its size in relation to the actors. Once you’ve actually built the thing and it looks this good, why not make every effort to put it on-screen with your actors as much as possible? I get it when you’re stuck with a prop that doesn’t work well or doesn’t look great, but by all available on-screen evidence that’s not the case here. I suppose back then audiences were more used to the unmistakable tactile sense that comes from real physical props and just didn’t think much about it, but in today’s world of weightless CG, you wish they’d lean into the physicality a little more, especially since they put in the effort to, you know, make a giant killer crab puppet. But oh well, you can’t have everything.

Anyway, DEEPSTAR SIX has its problems --it’s a little too slow-moving and talky to motivate one to shout its praises from the rooftops-- but in the not-especially-prestigious “ALIEN on a submarine” genre it’s practically LAWRENCE OF ARABIA. If it’s a little shaggy, it’s certainly also likeable enough to go down easy. If the writing can’t exactly be called urbane, at least the performances are winning. If there’s not exactly an avalanche of whammy, both gore and creature effects are gnarly and clearly shot enough to make a strong impression when they finally begin in earnest. But most of all, it’s just solid. At the time it may have been dismissed as a low-rent genre rip-off, but thirty years later, it feels almost destabilizingly serious and competent. It doesn’t comport itself like it’s just a trashy creature feature, it comports itself like a real movie with characters and shit it expects you to actually invest in, not out of some pretension that it has something to say but just out of the basic assumption you would be interested. It even has an august, earnest orchestral score by Harry Manfredini. I guess it says something about how badly standards have slipped that something broadly sniffed at as lowbrow b-movie garbage on its release now seems about on-par with something like EUROPA REPORT, which was released in art theaters to broad critical acclaim a couple years ago. Which I don’t mean as an aspersion on either movie; it’s just kind of sad that a movie like this –a simple, competently assembled adventure story for adults that just wants to entertain in a way that doesn’t patronize its audience—has become something a rare and prestigious commodity worthy of celebration in 21st century, rather than a basic expectation.

But then again, maybe I’m just old and grouchy. Anyway, whatever it’s rightful place in the pantheon of American pop-art, I think it’s safe to say that it’s probably one of the best Alien-on-a-boat ripoffs from 1989-1990.** And that may not be much in the grand scheme of things, but for someone like me, it makes it worth appreciating.

Also, I’d like a little credit for making it through this whole review without a single Sealab 2020 reference, if that’s not too much to ask.

         

           

   

*  Obviously THE ABYSS is better, let’s not kid ourselves here, come on.

               

CHAINSAWNUKAH 2019 CHECKLIST!

For Richer or Horror

TAGLINE	Not All Aliens Come From Space. Which, uh, first of all, a little on the nose, there, don’t ya think? And also, wait, is that even true? If it’s from the Earth, isn’t it de facto not an alien?
TITLE ACCURACY	I’m pretty sure their sealab base or whatever is named DeepStar Six, so sure, fine, whatever.
LITERARY ADAPTATION?	No.
SEQUEL?	None
REMAKE?	None.
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN	USA
HORROR SUB-GENRE	Creature feature, ALIEN-underwater
SLUMMING A-LISTER?	None
BELOVED HORROR ICON?	Though not specifically a horror icon, I’m gonna go ahead and count Miguel Ferrer
NUDITY?	None.
SEXUAL ASSAULT?	None
WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!	Yup
GHOST/ ZOMBIE / HAUNTED BUILDING?	None
POSSESSION?	No
CREEPY DOLLS?	None.
EVIL CULT?	No
MADNESS?	Slight madness
TRANSMOGRIFICATION?	None
VOYEURISM?	None
MORAL OF THE STORY	The only monster on this submarine base is a lack of proper respect for the rules. Although also there’s a 40-ton homicidal crawfish, so I guess that too, now that I think about it.

               

It's Alive

It’s Alive (1974)

Dir. and written by Larry Cohen

Starring John P. Ryan, Sharon Ferrall, James Dixon, Guy Stockwell

Boy, is this not what I expected. I feel like when you hear the phrase “killer baby on the loose” in the plot description, you imagine something a little more light-hearted and schlocky than this. I mean, it sounds like a lazy SNL parody of a low-effort creature feature, all but guaranteed to feature a funny-looking monster baby puppet and an arch, campy tone to paper over the fact that everyone involved knows this is stupid trash.

Well, IT’S ALIVE does feature a funny-looking monster baby puppet, but its tone is anything but campy. Honest to god, this movie about a murderous mutant baby feels more like an Arthur Miller play than a GHOULIES sequel. It doesn’t quite dare to deny you the promised baby-fueled carnage, but its real interest is in exploring the guilt and shame and emotional conflict which arise in the little monster’s parents. Honestly I bet Richard Spencer’s parents watch this every night.

The parents in question here are Frank Davis (hard-working character actor John P. Ryan, who appeared in everything from FIVE EASY PIECES to DEATH WISH 4: THE CRACKDOWN) and Lenore Davis (Sharon Farrell, THE STUNT MAN, LONE WOLF McQUADE), who we meet as they happily pack up to head over to the hospital for the birth of their second child. This much is expected, but you realize right away something is unusual about this film when, rather than jumping right into the carnage, the movie pauses and hangs out with Frank and a handful of other men in the waiting room, as they play cards, chat about life, and indulge in some semi-improvised sounding Larry Cohen-esque dialogue.

And of course, there’s your explanation right there: this is not just any junky old cheapie creature feature for the matinees, this is a Larry Cohen joint. It’s only his second feature film after the button-pushing suburban surrealist nightmare BONE, and the first of his films which would clearly establish his MO: cranking out schlocky b-grade genre pictures which deliver the expected exploitation goodies you want, but also aspire to more interesting plots and more nuanced performances than anyone could reasonably expect. Sometimes those two goals feel a bit disconnected from each other (Michael Moriarty’s stunning method acting masterpiece in Q: THE WINGED SERPENT is a marvel, but it’s hard not not notice it has almost nothing whatsoever to do with the ostensible plot), but here, they seem a bit more meaningfully linked. We get the standard stalk-and-slash kill sequences (often from the baby’s POV, making this feel entirely more like a slasher than any movie with a mutant baby puppet ought to), but mostly we get the parents, sitting around at home with the police, trying to deal with this insane nightmare which has so unexpectedly descended upon them.

Is this where socialized health care has brought us?!

Lenore seems like she’s experiencing some kind of dissociative break from reality, puttering about with a big fake smile and seeming for all the world like she must be hiding some sinister secret (she’s not, it’s just a weird performance which I guess is meant to highlight the mental strain she’s under). Honestly I’m not sure Farrell’s performance is communicative enough of what she’s actually thinking to be effective in helping the audience understand her, but at least it’s vivid. But Frank is in denial too. Literally, in fact: he denies the baby is even his, in another move that I initially took as evidence that the Davises are hiding some sort of evil secret. But no, they’re not; this is just a random, inconceivably cruel blow which has been dealt to them for no reason, and they’re trying to cope with the fact that their child is A) a mutant, B) a murderer, and C) about to be hunted down and shot by the police like a wild dog, and that’s if they’re lucky enough to find him before he kills again. If Lenore’s reaction is to try and deny the whole thing, Frank’s reaction is to deny that he cares. But of course he does; like Victor Frankenstein, he’s trying to dodge responsibility for the tormented life he brought into this world, and the movie’s main defining conflict is whether or not he’s going to be able to come to terms with that fact before it’s too late.

And there’s no avoiding these topics; for better or worse, they’re really what the movie is about. Hell, the movie is so serious about this shit it even got Bernard Herrmann (THE DEVIL AND DANIEL WEBSTER, PSYCHO, CITIZEN feckin’ KANE!) to do the moody, dread-soaked score. Probably not a worthwhile expense if your plan is to just throw a plastic baby with fangs at some screaming actors. These are complicated, adult emotions, and they’re self-evidently what Cohen builds his film around. The acting is perhaps a little more opaque than it ought to be with such an emphasis on the parents’ emotional states, but both actors try hard, and both come up with something that feels, if not exactly comprehensible, at least prickly and alive. Which is good, because I cannot in good conscience say that the actual The Alive of IT’S ALIVE feels very alive. The makeup (looks like it was part puppet, part child-in-suit) is not a disaster, but it’s a silly design (big googly eyes and two wall-eyed fangs), and the kill scenes, which mostly follow the baby’s perspective as it leaps around weightlessly like it’s in CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON, are both way too cheesy to take seriously and a little light on either baby puppet or noteworthy gore to make up for it in fun.

I think this image may be from one of the sequels, but you get the idea.

So the emotional angle is what you’re left with -- a pretty dangerous strategy in a killer baby picture. Personally, I found the movie’s sweaty, feverish examination of these repressed early 70’s parents trying to find some comfort in lying to themselves to be interesting enough to carry through, but your mileage may vary. I certainly wouldn’t argue with anyone who objected to the movie on the grounds that a killer baby movie should have more killer baby in it. That’s certainly the easier hook, and I’m sure the 2009 remake goes more in that direction* (though presumably with an even more direly grim tone and a bunch of shiny pretty 30-somethings, since it’s a 2009 remake). But this is an interesting way to go, too. In the end that probably adds up to a movie which is more interesting than good, but hey, it is interesting, and that’s a lot more than one could reasonably expect from a movie called IT’S ALIVE.

P.S: Now that I think about it, IT’S ALIVE, which deals with parents feeling responsible for a murderous son they can’t control, feels like an interesting companion piece to the Cohen’s next movie, GOD TOLD ME TO, which deal with adults who have to decide what to do when a murderous Jesus instructs them to kill. One is about the responsibility of the person in charge when their underlings go rogue and turn violent, the other is about the responsibility of an underling when the person in charge pressures them to act violently. I think he should do a third one from God’s perspective when humans pray to him to kill other people.

*It sounds pretty different and more from the perspective of the mother, which is definitely a fresh take on this material, but I’m not convinced. Vern liked it, though.

No, seriously, you should "save your screams until you see it's face" because you're probably going to feel like a jackass in retrospect if you screamed and then saw how lame this thing looks.

CHAINSAWNUKAH 2017 CHECKLIST!

The Discreet Charm of the Killing Spree

TAGLINE	There’s Only One Thing Wrong With The Davis Baby -- IT’S ALIVE.
TITLE ACCURACY	Well, that title is true for literally any movie with living creatures in it, but sure.
LITERARY ADAPTATION?	No
SEQUEL?	Yes, followed by IT LIVES AGAIN (reincarnation movie? Haven’t seen it) and the magnificently titled IT’S ALIVE III: THE ISLAND OF THE ALIVE. Still waiting for that LOOK WHO’S TALKING crossover
REMAKE?	Yes, in 2009
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN	USA
HORROR SUB-GENRE	Creature feature, parental horror
SLUMMING A-LISTER?	None
BELOVED HORROR ICON?	Larry Cohen is probably more a general B-movie icon than specifically a horror one, but we’ll count him. Certainly, though Bernard Herrmann is a horror icon.
NUDITY?	No. The baby is nude, I guess, but it’s pretty tastefully shot.
SEXUAL ASSAULT?	No
WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!	The dad uses a cat to poke his son, which is weird, but the cat seems down with it
GHOST/ ZOMBIE / HAUNTED BUILDING?	none
POSSESSION?	no
CREEPY DOLLS?	none
EVIL CULT?	no
MADNESS?	No. Yes?
TRANSMOGRIFICATION?	No
VOYEURISM?	Killer baby-vision!
MORAL OF THE STORY	Don’t have kids.

Ghoulies

Ghoulies (1984 -- US premier 1985)

Dir. Luca Bercovici

Written by Luca Bercovici and Jefery [sic] Levy

Starring Peter Liapis, Lisa Pelikan, Michael Des Barres, Jack Nance

For most people, the sentence, “1984’s GHOULIES is a landmark, career-defining motion picture which would set the stage for three decades of a niche auteur’s long and legendary career” would sound a tad unlikely, perhaps even absurd. But for those of us who truly know the life’s work of ultra-low-budget DTV maestro Charles Band, GHOULIES is the beginning. GHOULIES started it all. Without GHOULIES, there is no DOLLS, no TROLL (and therefore no TROLL 2!) no GINGERDEAD MAN. No DOLLMAN VS. DEMONIC TOYS. No EVIL BONG. And the world would be, I dunno, slightly poorer for it in some ways. Although arguably better off in others possibly.

GHOULIES is not important because it’s the first film produced by Charles Band, nor even the first produced by the most venerable of his various production companies, the austerely monikered Empire Films. Band had been producing movies since 1973’s LAST FOXTROT IN BURBANK (edited by a pre-HALLOWEEN John Carpenter!) and Empire Pictures had produced its first film the previous year. No, GHOULIES is the beginning of a different era entirely; not the start of a career, but the inauguration of Band’s ongoing tinyphiliac period. This era  --to my knowledge first identified by Seagalogy author Vern-- is defined by Band’s obsessive focus on mean little bastards. It began with GHOULIES, but quickly spiraled out of control into TROLL, DOLLS, DOLLMAN, PUPPETMASTER, DEMONIC TOYS, DOLLMAN VS DEMONIC TOYS, SHRUNKEN HEADS, LEAPIN’ LEPRECHAUNS (not to be confused with the 1993 Warwick Davis LEPRECHAUN), SHRUNKEN CITY, and, of course, GINGERDEAD MAN. And that’s just a quick overview of this phenomenon.

Considering that pedigree, I hadn’t exactly rushed to see GHOULIES. If your movie has the name “Charles Band” anywhere associated with it, it’s a good bet it’s going towards the bottom of my priorities list, and GHOULIES has been languishing there for some time now. I’m glad I live in a universe where GINGERDEAD MAN 2: PASSION OF THE CRUST is a real movie with a funny title, but even for me, life’s a little short to spend 82 minutes on a joke title. And the world isn’t exactly hurting for 1980’s creature features for me to waste my life on, between the CRITTERSes and GREMLINSes and TREMORSes and BASKET CASEs and THE GATE and HOBGOBLINS, and somebody said something about a movie called MUNCHIES? But you know what is hurting for 1980’s creature features? Every fuckin’ streaming service. Netflix has about 90,000 no-budget zero-effort drab and featureless PARANORMAL ACTIVITY ripoffs from 2016 alone, but try to find something fun and colorful with a monster puppet or something and you’ll be running back to Pirate Bay faster than you can say “Nilborg.”

But Hulu did have GHOULIES, and after a few brief moments considering suicide as an alternative, I decided, what the heck, gotta get GHOULIES in there eventually. Might as well be now.

And you know what? I realize this might be a controversial opinion, but I would say that GHOULIES is better than suicide in some respects, all things considered. I mean, it’s hardly a real movie by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s not without its scrappy charms. And it’s certainly not light on ghoulies.

Our story begins with cult leader Malcolm Graves (Michael Des Barre, best known as the frontman for ex-punk supergroup Chequered Past and as Robert Palmer’s replacement in Power Station, and also as the recurring character Murdoc on McGuyver. But hey, he was also in UNDER SIEGE, PINK CADILLAC, and MULHOLLAND DRIVE, so he’s had a rich, full life) initiating some kind of baby-sacrificing ceremony like they used to do a lot back in the 1980’s. He has big scary glowing green eyes, so you know this shit is legit, he’s not just some two-bit hustler trying to get laid, he’s obviously onto something here. You’d think that alone would be enough to convince the baby’s mother (Victoria Catlin, MANIAC COP, HOWLING V) to go along with this, but apparently they never discussed it ahead of time, because she acts like this is the first she’s heard of any baby sacrificing (she’s wearing a robe and reciting the incantation, but maybe she didn’t read all the way through the brochure before joining up?) and right before the big stabby moment, she leaps forward to put a stop to everything. This is a double whammy because not only does it really kill the mood, it’s going to result in some awkward PTA meetings and stuff down the line, because Malcolm is also the kid’s father. For some reason Mom’s objection seems to do the trick, and the Malcolm dejectedly sends the baby away to live with another cultist (Jack Nance, ERASERHEAD, Twin Peaks) and contents himself with killing the mom, because, fuck it, he didn’t get the glowing eye thing going to not murder somebody.

This would seem to wrap things up pretty neatly, but this is not the story of the mother, this is the story of the baby. As the sudden narration jarringly explains, the child was raised to adulthood by Jack Nance, who appears to be some kind of mute hermit, or at least a real strong, silent type who doesn’t say anything unless he’s narrating (I think that’s him) or until the movie’s last scene. But he’s Jack Nance, dammit, so he can do whatever he damn well wants. The son, though, has grown into Nathan Fillion lookalike Jonathan (Peter Liapis, GHOULIES IV), and apparently no one ever mentioned to him about his father being a crazy cult wizard who tried to sacrifice him at birth and murdered his mom, so when he gets the word that his father has died and he has inherited his palatial murder estate (complete with on-premise grave), he sees no reason not to immediately move in and invite his intensely 80’s friends and his gal (Juilliard-trained Lisa Pelikan, JENNIFER, LIONHEART) over for a crazy party.

The longer he stays in the house, though, the more he starts to fixate on the idea of the occult, and dabble in the black arts. One day his girlfriend walks in on him in the basement, glowing green eyes and everything, conducting some sort of unholy ritual which has summoned a howling rainstorm in the basement. She doesn’t seem at all surprised to learn that magic is real, but she is super annoyed that he’s been mastering it instead of fixing up the house. She demands he stop trying to explore the furthest reaches of arcane knowledge and gain the infinite power to shape the universe to his will, or at the very least not conduct occult rituals while they’re getting busy. When he fails to clear even this low bar, he figures he’d better play it safe and put the mind whammy on her so she doesn’t interfere while he summons as many god damn ghoulies as he pleases, yes sir.

One odd thing about GHOULIES is that from the plot I’ve just described, it sounds like Jonathan is the bad guy of the story, but the movie can’t seem to quite make up its mind about that. Our hero seems to oscillate wildly between conducting ecstatic, screaming satanic ceremonies and acting like he’s just casually interested and confused and a little embarrassed that anyone would think he’s really into it. When his girl walks in on his ceremony he acts like she’s caught him jerking off in the shower; he’s embarrassed and apologetic but also seems to think she’s really making a big fuss over nothing. Baby I AM working on the house, I just thought I’d play around with the dark arts a little in my spare time. Jeez, I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. It’s really hard to tell if the house and/or his dead father is putting the mind whammy on him and also manipulating him to try and cover it up, or if he really doesn’t see the harm in dabbling in a little satanic magic in his spare time, and just lets his daytime hobby get a little out of hand.

Anyway, you don’t care about that at all, and I know that. You want to know about the Ghoulies. And you are right, that’s the only thing which is remotely important here, and I’m happy to tell you it’s also the one thing they get pretty right. The ghoulies are a motley lot of gross, slimy, furry, googly-eyed puppets created by John Carl Buechler (director of TROLL, CELLAR DWELLER, and FRIDAY THE 13th PART VII: THE NEW BLOOD, i.e. the one where Jason has some kind of demon face and fights the telekinetic chick). They look only marginally more lifelike than Kermit the Frog, but they make up for it by being numerous, gimmicky, charismatic, and frequently on-screen. That’s one great thing about puppets: once you’ve made them, the cost is already sunk, and you might as well have them in every scene after that, just hanging around. I like to look at them, and the movie is happy to generously provide that service. Can’t do that shit with CG, no sir. But no need to be stingy with your Ghoulies.

Incidentally, the same rule holds true for the “glowing green eye” magic effect which we first see on Malcolm, and subsequently on Jonathan in increasingly every scene as the movie rolls along. I first assumed that this was your typical animated 80’s green glow, but on closer examination these “glowing eyes” actually appear to be huge holographic contact lenses which covers the entire eyeball, including the white. And just like ghoulie puppets, once you’ve bought one pair, you might as well get plenty of mileage out of ‘em and have everyone in every scene try them on. They’re a pretty nifty effect, and a pretty novel one; I can't recall recall ever seeing anything quite like it before, though that might have something to do with the fact that they don’t always seem to be looking in the same direction at the same time. They also must be an absolute nightmare to use. Liapis seems to wears them pretty gracefully, but on the fancy HD version you can clearly see Des Barre’s eyes twitching and watering and looking about ready to fall out of his head, even as he dutifully hams it up. And ham it up he does, with the heart of a champion. That’s a real pro, there. That shit does not look comfortable.

Look how great that is, though.

The Ghoulies themselves are actually only a little more integral to the plot than the hologram contacts: they’re absolutely essential for this movie to exist, but in all honesty they don’t really do all that much, and are involved in what could generously be termed "the narrative" only in the most tangential ways. They have adorable expressive faces, but otherwise can’t move too much and --as hand puppets-- they don’t have legs, so most of the dramatic heavy lifting in the creature department is done by a pair of little people (Peter Risch, “Little Person #2” SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES and Tamara de Treaux, who may or may not have spent some time in the E.T. suit, and was also in DON’T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK) who make the absolute best of roles which could not, in all honesty, be described as entirely un-demeaning. But at least in the big finale, most of the ghoulies get a showpiece kill, somewhat justifying their presence. In fact, once the body harvest begins, GHOULIES can't stop itself from also throwing a showpiece kill to a rogue non-ghoulie nightmarish human-sized jester doll who pulls off his rubber face to reveal some kind of slimy, uh, thing, and to a beautiful seductress who chokes a guy with a five-foot-long tongue. None of that is really integral to the plot, but it is integral to the movie, and you can trust Band, Buechler, and director Bercovici (primarily an actor, though not in any movie I've ever heard of in 65 credits spanning nearly four decades) to understand that fact. GHOULIES is not the kind of movie that can reasonably make a play for respectability or serious-minded artistic analysis, but it’s definitely committed to being entertaining. And what more could you want from a movie called GHOULIES?

OK, fair enough, you’d want a little more Jack Nance, who has, I think, two spoken lines of dialogue (outside his sporadic attempts to turn narrator). Good thing he’s Jack Nance, so we’re still excited to see him show up at the end to save the day with animated 80’s lightning while our hero does nothing. I can’t call that a great ending, and I can’t call it great cinema, but it gets the job done. That’s GHOULIES for ya.

(And by “gets the job done” I mean it sets up a sequel with even more Ghoulies. Look, we’re not making art here. But for a low-rent meat-and-potatoes creature feature, it knows what it is and commits to the work of being GHOULIES 1 without shame. I can respect that. And that’s not a phrase I thought I’d be likely to use on a Charles Band production, so considering what we’re talking about here it’s basically a goddam miracle.)
EDIT: OH God, I just realized GHOULIES III is subtitled: GHOULIES GO TO COLLEGE, fuck, now I'm going to have to watch the whole fucking series.

EDIT 2: Oh wait, the last one is directed by Jim Wynorski, so I guess not quite the whole series.

CHAINSAWNUKAH 2017 CHECKLIST!

The Discreet Charm of the Killing Spree

TAGLINE	They’ll Get You In The End. This was originally sort of a pun, playing off the poster with one of the Ghoulies coming out of a toilet, but it’s also literally true that the only time they get anyone is in the film’s finale.
TITLE ACCURACY	There are, indeed, Ghoulies, though I don’t know that anyone ever specifically refers to them as such.
LITERARY ADAPTATION?	Absolutely not.
SEQUEL?	Ghoules II-IV
REMAKE?	None
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN	USA/Canada
HORROR SUB-GENRE	Creature Feature, Tinyphiliac horror, puppet horror
SLUMMING A-LISTER?	None
BELOVED HORROR ICON?	Jack Nance? I dunno, he’s not really a horror icon I guess, but he is an icon of something. And I don’t know if “beloved” is the right word, but Band himself is something of an icon, as is Ghoulies creator John Carl Buechler.
NUDITY?	Nah
SEXUAL ASSAULT?	Nah, though there’s an awkward sex scene (under the covers) where he’s trying to do a ritual on the sly while boning his gal, and she catches him and storms out and he acts real sheepish. I wouldn’t call this sexual assault, but it’s definitely behavior I frown upon.
WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!	None, except the ghoulies
GHOST/ ZOMBIE / HAUNTED BUILDING?	Revived Malcolm seems pretty zombie-esque, though he talks and stuff
POSSESSION?	Depends how you want to interpret why he does all this shit. But either way, his girlfriend definitely gets the whammy
CREEPY DOLLS?	Yeah! A good lifesized horror doll.
EVIL CULT?	Certainly
MADNESS?	Nah
TRANSMOGRIFICATION?	Doll into slimy monsters
VOYEURISM?	Nah
MORAL OF THE STORY	I’m basically incapable of not liking a movie with a bunch of Ghoulie puppets, regardless of the movie which surrounds them. Also, check in with your girlfriend from time to time if you’re planning on delving into the Satanic arts in any serious way. Communication is the cornerstone of any healthy relationship.

And a pretty strong three-thumbs, falling just short of a fourth