Tuesday, February 13, 2024

90's American Horror Part Forty-One

THE INVISIBLE MANIAC
(1990)
Dir - Adam Rifkin
Overall: MEH
 
This sleazy mad scientist/murder comedy from filmmaker Adam Rifkin was his first in the horror camp and is noteworthy for being one of the few non-pornographic films that Shannon Wilsey aka Savannah appeared in before her untimely suicide three years later.  The Invisible Maniac, (The Invisible Sex Maniac), establishes its perverted tone from the get-go as we meet the title character as a youngster who is caught by his wackadoo mom perving on his naked neighbor.  This sets up the voyeuristic angle which is predictably utilized once Noel Peters' dweebish chemist reaches adulthood and invents an invisibility serum that gives him ideal opportunities to spy on high school girls in both the shower and in their bedrooms.  Classy guy.  The plot line essentially sticks to the "nerd getting revenge on the bullies" motif, except this time it is the teacher who is picked on instead of a fellow student; a teacher with outrageously disturbed mental/horny issues that allow for him to attack his fellow professors, escape from a mental institution, and still find himself able to get a job lecturing a summer school class where the also horny, female principal apparently never heard of a background check.  Some of the set pieces are dumb enough to enjoy, but Peters' maniacal laugh is obnoxious and the story is too hare-brained to be memorable.
 
CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT
(1991)
Dir - Tony Randel
Overall: MEH
 
The second feature produced by Fangoria Films, Children of the Night is a cut above most D-grade schlock from the era, at least as far as its production values are concerned.  Director Tony Randel had already delivered the second Hellraiser movie at this point and he and cinematographer Richard Michalak keep the camerawork distractingly busy, with boatloads of odd angles and atmospheric lighting that help forgive a dopey script penned by four different credited screenwriters.  The practical effects get the job done and the vampire makeup is elaborately nasty as Karen Black looks particularly ridiculously in her sexed-out, undead form, even getting to turn into a fleshy garbage bag at one point, (don't ask).  All of the acting is of the over-doing it variety and ergo embarrassing, save for Garret Morris as a harmless wino and Black who was veteran enough to channel the right type of hammy energy to save face.  To be fair though, Randel is certainly going for a high-camp tone that is akin to the most comedic episodes of Tales from the Crypt, so all of the film's over-the-top goofiness is at least deliberate.  It still comes off like a poor man's Salem's Lot with a lackluster finale act, but there is nothing here to be insulted by and everyone on board seems in on the gag.

FROSTBITER: WRATH OF THE WINDIGO
(1995)
Dir - Tom Chaney
Overall: MEH

Regionally made and Troma-disturbed with many of the hallmarks of the latter production company's singular brand of trashploitation, Frostbiter: Wrath of the Windigo is a hit and miss bit of nonsense.  This was the first directorial effort from cinematographer Tom Chaney and the movie intentionally channels Sam Raimi's seminal Evil Dead just as countless other no-budget offerings have.  The tone is explicitly comedic and juvenile, but at least it manages to forgo jokes about flatulence, the elderly, handicapped people, and those with mental deficiencies.  Nudity is present yet limited and a minor quip is made about one of the characters being African American when the rest are obnoxious, gun-toting hillbillies doing obnoxious hillbilly shit on one of Lake Michigan's Manitou Islands.  The production aspects are laughably low and purposely showcased as such, most hilariously with a toy dinosaur ripping a pilot's head off in mid flight so that a toy plane can crash land close by a model cabin that later gets attacked by the stop-motion title creature.  All of the performers are doing their most convincing interpretations of bad acting and the soundtrack is of the patented, "twisting of the radio dial" Troma variety where full songs with vocals blare over every single scene so that much of the probably inane dialog is difficult to even make out.  It gets some of its stupidity right, but it also drags while trying too be so stupid.

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