80's American Horror Part Sixty-Nine

MS. 45

(1981)

Dir - Abel Ferrara

Overall: MEH

Following up the odd-ball, low-rent slasher vehicle The Driller Killer with Ms. 45, (Angel of Vengeance), filmmaker Abel Ferrara still presents a seedy, wicked Manhattan, yet the one-note premise is beaten into the ground.  A rape and revenge movie of sorts in the exploitation vein, it follows around a beautiful yet aloof, mute woman who after getting violently raped twice in one day, understandably snaps and becomes a spree killer with an agenda to rid the city of overtly pushy men.  Nearly every male in the film adheres to some sort of loathsome, aggressive stereotype whether its cat-calling, narcissistically prattling on about past relationships, abusing a position of power, or just plain ole not taking "no" for an answer.  Fifteen minutes in, the audience fully comprehends the concept, yet unfortunately it has nowhere unique to go after that.  Instead, it simply spins its wheels endlessly with one foreseeable killing after the other, none of which provide any further psychological insight into what Ferrara may be trying to say besides "Men are awful and they have it coming to them".  Stylistically it has some tripped-out sequences, a hip score, and an almost Gothic horror sound design at times, but it may have worked better as a short film and therefor cannot truly justify its full-length form.

 

PANDEMONIUM

(1982)

Dir - Alfred Sole

Overall: WOOF

The last theatrical film to be directed by production designer Alfred Sole, Pandemonium is a lousy, (i.e. largely not funny), slasher/hornball comedy.  To be fair, a couple of the horror gags work OK enough, like introducing the characters as "Victim number..." and a Maria Ouspenskaya stand-in who spouts ominous cheerleader warnings.  Elsewhere though, oooo boy.  Set pieces like a Tokyo airline with Godzilla as a flight attendant, Paul Reubens trading hi-jinks with a horse Mountie, the main characters all having rhyming names, and a woman taking a bath in milk while eating cookies all fail to land as intended and come off like a poor man's attempt at a Mel Brooks production.  What is of interest is some of the on-screen talent though.  In addition to the aforementioned Reubens doing his usual quirky shtick, Carol Kane, Judge Reinhold, Eileen Brennan, and Superman's Marc McClure make the best out of the Neanderthal-brained material, with Phil Hartman even delivering a single line in a single scene for good measure.  Throw in some fart and getting laid jokes and it covers all the bases while striking out every time that it goes up to bat.

 

BEYOND DREAM'S DOOR

(1989)

Dir - Jay Woelfel

Overall: MEH

The full-length debut from Ohio-born, no-budget filmmaker Jay Woelfel, Beyond Dream's Door is a perplexing work in DIY indie horror.  This is because it combines all of the usual trappings of unprofessional movie-making with a grand ambition that mostly falls short of its grasp, yet is also uncharacteristically inventive.  There are some fetching Steadicam shots and eerie lighting, ambient moans on the soundtrack, and a surreal framework befitting to a story of some guy's nightmares invading the real world and affecting other people, (or something).  At the same time though, the cast is made up exclusively of unphotogenic actors who are also terrible, the monster design is knee-slappingly atrocious, and it has that amateur, "we shot this for free in our grandmother's living room" visual aesthetic that all of its wacky camera angles and stark red lighting can never disguise.  It is the type of film that could have wielded something far closer to the project's unattainable reach if it had an actual budget helmed by an experienced director with properly designed sets.  At the very least though, it is an interesting and occasionally not boring viewing experience as well as being enough of a worthy curiosity for fans of "on the fringe" stuff.