80's American Horror Part Sixty-Six

THE AFTERMATH

(1982)

Dir - Steve Barkett

Overall: MEH

 

With the look and feel of 1970s television and the production values of a high school play, writer/director/producer/lead actor Steve Barkett's first of only two movies where he was behind the lens is crappindicular stuff.  This is a typical vanity project where the filmmaker's ambitious largely outway his means of achieving them.  By casting himself in the heroic lead, Barklett comes off unintentionally ridiculous as he has the charisma and physical presence of an assistant produce manger at a grocery store.  It is a good thing then that he brought Sid Haig on board as a low-life bad guy, Forrest J Ackerman as a museum curator, and Dick Miller to provide a bit of voice over in one scene.  The post-apocalyptic story involving crashed astronauts, mutated humans, and a kid-murdering/women-raping gang are interspersed with sloppy editing, the occasional matte painting, melodramatic music, stiff performances, day for night scenes, and bargain bin special effects.  There are a handful of bad movie chuckles along the way, but everything is played so unironically straight that it is just more adorably lousy than actually fun to endure.

 

THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK

(1987)

Dir - George Miller

Overall: GOOD

 

For his first post-Mad Max trilogy full-length, director George Miller chose this A-list adaptation of John Updike's novel The Witches of Eastwick, a genuinely funny performance showcase for those involved.  While Cher, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Susan Sarandon bring fully-realized, unique attributes to their characters and Veronica Cartwright has some gleefully scenery-chewing moments in a minor role, few could argue that the movie belongs to Jack Nicholson and his bravado performance as essentially the Lord of Darkness.  At his best, Nicholson could sink his teeth into a role that fully benefited from his expertly crafted blend of over acting, and every moment where he lets loose here, (and there are many such moments), is a delight to behold.  The fact that he brings an amount of vulnerable charm to his portrayal even as he snorts and unabashedly hedonizes his way into the hearts of the witches of the title is even more impressive since at the end of the day, he is really not all THAT bad of a guy.  Michael Cristofer's script fails to be the tightest in the world, but being much more lighthearted than the novel, it has a care-free if still somewhat sexist undercurrent that is at least forgivable due to the silly, R-rated tone.  An alarming amount of projectile vomiting and the grandiose finale may seem unnecessarily excessive for some, but just as many others may see it as fitting right at home with such whimsical, diabolic fun.

HACK-O-LANTERN

(1988)
Dir - Jag Mundhra
Overall: WOOF

The second American film from Bollywood director Jag Mundhra, Hack-O-Lantern, (Death Mask), is some ridiculous low-budget sleaze that is hilariously stupid enough at regular intervals to be a festive addition to anyone's Halloween version of a "bad movie night".  Part slasher, part Z-rent incompetence, and part Satanic cult nonsense, it throws in an adequate amount of gratuitous nudity, violence, and overall perversity to go along with acting that is either high-school-level-play embarrassing or scenery-chewing in the most applaudable way.  This is mostly the case where Gregory Scott Cummins and Hy Pyke are concerned, both of which regularly try and out-mug each other with the former playing a forty-three year old teenager and the later playing a grandpa who looks as old as the father that he burns alive.  Other quirky details include head-scratching pranks, heavy metal fantasies, perverse oversharing amongst friends and family members, and a Halloween party including a guy dressed as a salad, a man in drag dancing by himself, a stripper that goes full monty, and some random asshole doing pathetic standup in the parking lot.  The kill scenes are a combination of "huh?" and awkward, plus every character on screen exhibits dubious morals at one point or several, giving the audience no one to relate to yet plenty to laugh at.