6/5/14 (Part One): Your Date’s Here!

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1980's, aliens, Allan Kayser, B-movies, black-and-white cinematography, Bradster, Bruce Solomon, Christopher Romero, cinema, Corman University, cult classic, cult films, Cynthia Cronenberg, David Paymer, Det. Ray Cameron, Detective Landis, Dick MIller, drive-in fare, favorite films, film reviews, films, frat boys, fraternities, Fred Dekker, frozen bodies, horror films, horror references, horror-comedies, House, infections, Jason Lively, Jill Whitlow, killer slugs, meteor, Movies, Night of the Creeps, pledge week, pop culture references, Ray Cameron, Robert C. New, Robert Kino, Robert Kurtzman, Roger Corman, sci-fi, science-fiction, set in the 1950's, set in the 1980's, Sgt. Raimi, small town life, Steve Marshall, teenagers, The Monster Squad, Tom Atkins, unibrow, unibrows, wisecracking cops, writer-director, zombie frat boys, zombies

There’s a fine art that goes into making a truly fun, trashy B-horror film. If the film is too lo-fi, charmless and crude, it can be a chore to sit through. If the film is too goofy and self-aware, it can be overly silly and lightweight. Just right, however, like that proverbial porridge, and the mixture can be truly magical. I’ve had a big problem warming to modern-day B-films like Snakes on a Plane (2006) and Sharknado (2013), finding them to be way too self-aware and, quite frankly, overly obnoxious: shrill, unpleasant characters and ridiculously shoddy CGI don’t do much for me. For my money, I’ve always preferred B-movies from the ’80s, finding them to be warmer, more personable and less interested in self-reference than films from later eras. As someone who’s always appreciated practical effects, ’80s B-horror films provided plenty of memorable moments.

Perhaps Scream (1996) was too successful at pointing out the foibles of the horror genre because many horror films that followed it seemed less like individual pieces than attempts at genre critique and re-invention. The true key to making a good B-movie is to set out to make a good film, period: trying to make a good “bad” film is a fool’s errand. As far as I’m concerned, some of the most honest, entertaining, funny and well-made B-horror films have come out of the extraordinarily fertile time-period between 1983-1989. No discussion of this era, as far as I’m concerned, could be complete without giving due props to one of its most interesting filmmakers: Fred Dekker. Dekker may not have the deep and extensive filmography of some of his peers but he bears the distinction of being directly responsible for three of the best B-horror films of the 1980s: he wrote the screenplay for the minor/Miner classic House (1986) and wrote/directed the unmitigated awesomeness that were Night of the Creeps (1986) and The Monster Squad (1987). Although Night of the Creeps may not be quite as well-known as The Monster Squad (Drac, Frank and Wolfie trump alien slugs, apparently), it’s every bit as good: fast-paced, endlessly clever, funny and genuinely creepy, Night of the Creeps is the epitome of classic drive-in fare.

After a spartan credits sequence which recalls the credits for Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) in its simplicity, we’re tossed into outer space for a truly gonzo opening: fleshy, pink aliens that look like combinations of Teletubbies and Xenomorphs run around a space ship, shooting cheesy lasers at each other, on-screen subtitles translating their gibberish-speak. An alien escapes, via pod, leading us straight to Sorority Row, circa 1959, where we get some great black and white cinematography, plenty of clever references to ’50s genre films, an escaped serial killer (with an ax), necking teens on Lovers’ Lane, alien slugs and a jilted ex-boyfriend/cop. A slashing axe smash cuts straight to Pledge Week, circa 1986, complete with vibrant color. The whole opening sequence has taken all of ten minutes of screen-time and the message is clear: we’re in the hands of a master, so kick back and enjoy the ride.

In short order, we meet our heroes: Chris (Jason Lively) is the typical 1980s “nice guy/shy nerd” while his best buddy, J.C. (Steve Marshall) is the typical “quirky, brash, smart-assed, outsider best friend with a heart of gold.” They’re freshmen at Corman University, where Chris pines for the lovely Cynthia (Jill Whitlow). She’s a Kappa Delta, however, and dating the president of the obnoxious Beta fraternity, Brad (Allan Kayser). What’s a nice guy to do besides try to pledge the Betas and win her heart? Since this is an ’80s-genre film, however, it’s never going to be that easy. After the Betas send wannabe-pledges Chris and J.C. to go steal a body from the campus medical lab, things really start to warm up: literally, as the cyrogenically-frozen body they steal (a body that astute viewers should remember from the opening) seems to come to life and wander about the campus. Looks like a job for Det. Ray Cameron (Tom Atkins), the jilted boyfriend from the opening, who’s now a “damaged,” hard-drinking cop with a catch-phrase (“Thrill me”) and enough ennui to choke the aristocracy.

As Det. Cameron tries to figure out how a 27-years-dead corpse just gets up and walks away, Chris and JC begin to notice strange things happening around campus. Soon, Corman University is in the grip of a full-bore alien-brain-slug invasion (another alien-brain-slug invasion? Geez…) and it’s up to our heroes, along with Cynthia and the cynical detective, to make it all right. What happens when the brain-slugs come upon an entire overturned bus full of frat boys, as well as one long-dead axe murderer? Well, let’s just say that all hell breaks loose and leave it at that. Love…duty…pledging…Bullwinkle Moose…brain slugs…alien bounty-hunters…it’s just another day at good ol’ Corman U!

If the opening featuring the Teletubbie-esque aliens was no giveaway, let me be a little more clear: Night of the Creeps has its tongue planted so firmly in its cheek that it pokes through the other side…and that’s a distinctly good thing. Not only is the script and dialogue genuinely funny (Det. Cameron is a hoot and J.C.’s wisecracks land more often than they miss) but the film possesses a level of self-awareness that manages to skip right past “easy, obnoxious references” (although there are plenty of those) and straight to the core of traditional B-horror/sci-fi films. Across the board, Night of the Creeps manages to nail its various targets quite ably: one of the best examples is the exceptionally broad, silly acting that characterizes the opening ’50s-era footage. While the performances would be eye-rolling in any other context, they’re a perfect fit for the kind of cheesy ’50s-sci-fi/drive-in fare that Dekker and crew are trying to reference. Likewise, the “present-day” stuff perfectly references various horror products from the ’80s without losing the cheerful, goofy tone of the earlier material. It’s a delicate balancing act but Night of the Creeps manages to not only reference but subtly comment on these different eras (the black and white cinematography is, of course, just more icing on the cake).

One of the most obvious in-jokes in the film, albeit a joke that’s revealed gradually, involves the names of the various characters. The film takes place at Corman University, which should be a pretty easy “get” for most casual fans. Beyond that, however, it becomes a bit of a free-for-all: James Carpenter “J.C.” Hooper…Chris Romero…Cynthia Cronenberg…Detective Landis…Sgt. Raimi…Det. Ray Cameron…it’s sort of a “greatest-hits” of ’70s-’80s genre greats. We even get the real thing, in a way, when Corman regular Dick Miller makes an appearance as Walter, the cop in charge of weapon lockup at Det. Cameron’s precinct (fans might remember that Miller’s character in the classic A Bucket of Blood (1959) was named Walter Paisley). The fan services bits like this are a nice touch and, although a bit heavy-handed later in the film (the scene where Chris and J.C.’s names are revealed is so on-the-nose that it spoils the gag just a little), give a nice sense of unity to the proceedings.

While many of the jokes in Night of the Creeps are related to the horror/sci-fi genre, there’s still plenty of general hilarity to be found throughout. Whether it’s Cro-Magnon football bro Steve’s amazing unibrow (seriously: this piece of facial fuzz deserves its own end credit), the bathroom graffiti that enthusiastically affirms that “Stryper Rules!” (cuz, you know, they never did), Det. Cameron’s wisecracks (“Thrill me” never gets old and leads to a truly fist-raising finale) or Chris explaining his misidentification of a particular frat house as “It’s all Greek to me,” Night of the Creeps constantly moves from one great, funny moment to another. By the time we get to the iconic scene where Det. Cameron gives the girls of Kappa Delta the good/bad news (“The good news is your dates are here…bad news is, they’re dead”), Dekker’s script has proven itself time and time again.

The key thing to look for in B-movies like this is always going to be the “fun factor” and Night of the Creeps is consistently off-the-charts in this area. This is the kind of film that’s perfect for a rowdy get-together, a weekend trash-movie marathon or a drive-in in the heart of summertime. While the film doesn’t necessarily shy away from gooey special effects, it doesn’t wallow in them, either: the practical effects, which feature future KNB founder Robert Kurtzman, are pretty great (particularly the eye-popping bit where the long-dead axe murderer gets a new lease on life) but they never choke the life out of the film.

As a whole, almost everything in Night of the Creeps works spectacularly well. The acting is uniformly strong (although Jason Lively’s Chris is a bit of a wet blanket), the aforementioned effects work is great and the cinematography, by industry vet Robert. C. New (Prom Night (1980), The Borrower (1991), Rapture-palooza (2013)), is uniformly excellent. Indeed, Night of the Creeps has to be one of the best-looking, most vibrantly colored B-horror films to ever grace the silver screen. Truth be told, there really isn’t much not to like here, although the ridiculously stereotypical Asian janitor, Mr. Miner (Robert Kino), comes perilously close to being in rather poor taste: it’s no worse than many ’80s-era depictions of Asian characters (and quite a bit more gentle, to be honest) but feels completely out-of-place in the film’s good-natured universe. That notwithstanding, however, Night of the Creeps is one of the very best B-horror films to come out of the 1980s. Whether you’re looking for a great way to kill time or a great way to get the party started, Dekker’s Night of the Creeps has you covered. In fact, I’m inclined to call it the “Citizen Kane of alien-brain-slug/zombie frat boy” films. If you can find a better one, I’ll buy and eat a hat.

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5/2/14: You Horny Little Devil, You

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Ana Gasteyer, Anna Kendrick, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Bjorn Yearwood, black comedies, Calum Worthy, Chris Matheson, cinema, comedies, Craig Robinson, Earl Gundy, end of the world, fantasy, film reviews, films, giant lasers, God vs the Devil, Jesse Camacho, John Francis Daley, Ken Jeong, Lil' Beast, Movies, Paul Middleditch, Paul Scheer, plague of locusts, Rapture-Palooza, Rob Corddry, Robert C. New, the Antichrist, the Beast, The Greatest American Hero, the Rapture, Thomas Lennon, Tyler Labine, voice-over narration, wraiths

If you think about it, nothing happens without some kind of bureaucracy. What to change your name? Fill out a form in triplicate. Shoot an armed robber during a bank heist? Make sure your commander gets the paperwork by the end of the day. Need a loan? Sign here, here and initial here. Hell, even selling your soul requires a contract: you can be damn sure the Devil had his lawyers look at it, so you probably should, too. After all, who could possibly be more well-qualified to be the “patron saint” of paperwork and bureaucracy than ol’ Scratch, himself? Paul Middleditch’s newest film, Rapture-Palooza (2013), takes this idea one step further, positing a post-Rapture world where the plague of locusts may be a bummer but it’s the middle managers that really get ya down.

Lindsey (Anna Kendrick) and Ben (John Francis Daley) are a couple of kids who happen to be in love. They also happen to have been left behind by the Rapture, an event which we first see during an intense bowling game (natch). Lindsey and Ben may have been damned to spend the remainder of their lives in a fiery wasteland populated by dope-smoking wraith security guards (Tyler Labine and Paul Scheer), haranguing human-faced locusts (Suffer! Suffer!) and raining blood (more of an irritation than a horror, since the damn blood gets everywhere and windshield wipers just smear that shit around) but they’ve got each other and that’s good enough for them. Complications arise, however when the Antichrist, one Earl Gundy (Craig Robinson) takes a lascivious interest in the virginal Lindsey. Since this is, after all, his world now, Gundy swipes Lindsey, determined to break through her demure protests and make her his infernal queen. Ben, for his part, just wishes his Gundy-employed dad, Mr. House (Rob Corddry), would quit trying to set up Lindsey with the Devil, in order to curry favor.

Eventually, all hell breaks loose (even more than usual, let’s say) and Ben takes on the Antichrist’s minions, with the help of Lindsey’s drug-dealing brother, Clark Lewis (yes, his name really is Clark Lewis) and his best buddy, Fry (Jesse Camacho). The Devil won’t go down without a fight and a quip (or three), however, and things get even messier when Jesus (Mark Wynn) and God (Ken Jeong) show up. Spoiler alert: God’s just as big a dick as the Devil, at least when you’re one of the “little” people. Through it all, however, Lindsey and Ben never lose sight of one thing: if you’ve got true love, you don’t need eternal salvation…just a little sandwich cart and a piece of Apocalypse to call your own.

Similar to the way in which 1997 featured the dueling volcano films Volcano and Dante’s Peak (which, I think, were basically the same film), 2013 featured dueling post-Rapture films: James Franco’s in-joke This is the End and Rapture-Palooza. While I genuinely enjoyed This is the End (which, ironically, also featured Robinson), there was a lot of the film that was too meta and self-concerned to be much use for the average viewer (read: anyone who wasn’t actually in the movie). I found myself smiling quite a bit and appreciated how smart the whole thing was (and it really was a smart film, despite my natural desire to slam Franco for simply existing) but I didn’t find it uproariously funny, bar a few moments (Michael Cera, for the win). Rapture-Palooza, on the other hand, is extremely funny, packed with so many righteously hilarious bits that picking favorites was a little hard.

I absolutely adored the locusts and wraiths (I’ll watch Tyler Labine do anything, including reading a grocery list) but there were dozens of other bits that caught my eye/tickled my funny-bone: Gundy’s son, Lil’ Beast; the surface-to-air anti-Jesus laser; Jeong’s wonderful slant on God as an irritable jerk; that damn sandwich cart; Ana Gasteyer getting sent back to Earth, post-Rapture, for being “too annoying”…these and many more provided a near constant source of amusement throughout the film. My rules for comedy are generally pretty open: just make me laugh and I’m a happy guy. Rapture-Palooza made me laugh more often than not, so that’s a big check mark in the “Positive” category.

The biggest check mark in the “Negative” category? That would have to be Robinson’s endless and increasingly obnoxious sexual innuendos and come-ons. The whole plot of the film is precipitated on the Antichrist desiring Lindsey: we get that. When every third thing out of Robinson’s mouth is another tired variation on “hide the salami,” however, things get old awfully quick. Even more iffy is the notion that 99% of his “jokes” and innuendo involve raping Lindsey, something which never makes for good humor. Since Lindsey has made her feelings plainly clear and repeatedly (and clearly) said “no” in any given situation, it’s hard not to see the Devil’s continued attempts as anything short of an attempt to take her by force. At one point, the Antichrist even makes it plainly clear, telling Lindsey that she’s going to “get it,” whether she wants it or not. While I get what the filmmakers were going for and fully acknowledge that Robinson is known for a bit o’ the dirty talk, I always found this aspect of the film to be in bad taste. Truthfully, without the excessively “rapey” jokes, I would have found Rapture-Palooza to be a nearly perfect film, at least for my sensibilities.

This reliance on aggressively bad taste is a shame, really, because the 1% of Robinson’s dialogue that isn’t given over to imaginative euphemisms for intercourse is pretty spectacular. Robinson is an incredibly gifted comedian, a performer who has a way with a withering line (and glance) that’s almost peerless: his work on The Office is a master-class in the “friendly asshole.” When Gundy isn’t obsessed with Lindsey’s lady parts, he’s spot-on fantastic, no more so than his interactions with his son, Lil’ Beast (Bjorn Yearwood). The Antichrist shows such disdain for his son that it becomes a running joke and a marvelously cruel one, at that. Perhaps it speaks more to my sense of humor but Robinson’s delivery of the line, “Don’t be a dud, little fucker,” made me laugh so hard that I cried. Really. I just wish there were more moments like that in  Robinson’s performance and fewer bits that made me cringe.

The rest of the cast ranges from good to pretty great, with only Gasteyer’s shrill, over-the-top performance as being a bit of a wet blanket. Corddry is fantastic as Ben’s practical, if spectacularly untrustworthy father and Calum Worthy brings just the right touch of “douchbaggery” to his portrayal of Lindsey’s brother. I wish Labine and Scheer (so wonderful as the idiotic Andre on The League) had bigger roles, since either one of them could have carried a lead or supporting performance on their own. What’s here is excellent, however, and I’ll never get tired of Scheer’s pot-smoking wraith, especially when he’s berating Corddry: the whole ensemble has great chemistry together.

While there are plenty of big names/faces in front of the camera, two of the behind-the-scenes folk are just as interesting. The sharp, witty screenplay was written by Chris Matheson, better known as the scribe behind Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989). Matheson’s script is full of great lines and scenes…when it isn’t overly focused on Robinson’s potty-mouth, that is. Nonetheless, there were enough genuinely great moments to make me wish Matheson would write more. He appears to be working on an adaptation of The Greatest American Hero which could be pretty great (remake notwithstanding) if he brought a tenth of the energy and nerve from this script. Cinematography duties on Rapture-Palooza, meanwhile, were handled by another ’80s-’90s-era vet, Robert C. New. While he might not be a household name, genre fans should be more than familiar with his work, since he served as director of photography on films like Prom Night (1980), Night of the Creeps (1986), Big Bad Mama II (1987) and John McNaughton’s classic, The Borrower (1991). Thanks to New, Rapture-Palooza always looks great, with vibrant colors and plenty of nicely composed shots: it looks like the furthest thing from a cheaply made, direct-to-video offering possible, even if it never received much (if any) theatrical love.

Ultimately, Rapture-Palooza, like Kevin Smith’s Dogma (1999) is one of those films that’s designed to split an audience in half. If you have any reverence for religion, particularly Christianity, this might not be the film for you. While the movie frequently takes easy potshots at its targets (to be honest, the last secular film that dealt with the Rapture in any way other than humorously was the odd Mini Driver-starrer The Rapture (1991) ), its final revelation may be a bit much for some people: to find true peace, humans need to give up their reliance on religion. While it’s not a surprising revelation (I would have been more surprised had this ended with a truly religious message, to be honest), it’s definitely something that might tune a few people out. If you have an open-mind, however, and are in the mood for some rude laughs, Rapture-Palooza could just be a little slice of Heaven on Earth. It’s the end of the world, as we know it…and it feels good.