(1981)
Dir - Boaz Davidson
Overall: WOOF
A lone slasher film from Israeli B-movie director Boaz Davidson, Hospital Massacre, (X-Ray, Be My Valentine, Or Else, Ward 13), is as insultingly stupid and lazy as any of the other nine-hundred of them that came out in 1981. This one has Barbi Benton stuck in a hospital by inconceivably flimsy means, spending most of the movie in a short patient gown and providing the obligatory nude scene that her protagonist only goes along with because the script says so. Like most slasher garbage, the plot only gets from point A to point B if plausibility is ignored, and there are only so many predictable beats and moments where bodies drop like flies, women scream bloody murder, and nobody does anything about it that the audience can stand. It is moronic enough to tiptoe into parody terrain, but the presentation plays itself too conventionally straight to excuse this as self-aware trash, plus the kill scenes are lame and mostly bloodless, so it could not even get that right. The soundtrack is cool, but even Friday the 13th had a memorable score and that hardly saved it from also being a piece of shit.
Dir - John Sayles
Overall: GOOD
In the annals of fish-out-of-water alien visitation films, John Sayles' The Brother from Another Planet is one of the more singular. Made independently and shot on location in and around Harlem without such things as permits or passable special effects, Sayles instead goes for an intimate aesthetic which is benefited by future director Ernest R. Dickerson's unassuming cinematography. The city here is technically depicted as naturalistic, but through Joe Morton's point of view, it is a puzzling landscape full of different languages, graffiti, record stores, pawn shops, arcades, bars, junkies, criminals, and benevolent types who spill their guts to him unsolicited. Morton turns in an effective performance as the mute extraterrestrial who travels from one inconsequential vignette to the next like a curious puppy. Having him crash land on Ellis Island from outer space gives the narrative a clear cultural appropriation trajectory, but for most of the running time, the story is more of a "fly on the wall" look at urban existence as opposed to a thought-provoking one. This could be due to the light tone which does not get more potent until the closing moments, but its minimalist and unobtrusive approach is what makes it so interesting.
(1989)
Dir - Donald P. Borchers
Overall: MEH
Though it continually spirals into unintentionally laughable schlock, Grave Secrets, (Secret Scream), has some interesting qualities to make it a notable oddity. The first of three films directed by producer Donald P. Borchers, it has a wooden Paul Le Mat in the lead, Renée Soutendijk spending all of her scenes as if she is about to have a nervous breakdown, stuntman character actor Bob Herron as an odious dad, David Warner getting possessed by said odious dad, and Lee Ving as a redneck troublemaker who finds a buried severed head. Borchers and cinematographer Jamie Thompson keep the camera angles inventive and there are curious editing techniques utilized, but these along with some head-scratching foibles gives it a clunky presentation to say the least. The tone shifts frequently as some of the people on screen behave as if they are in a comedy while others are deadly serious at the same time, plus the music, garish monster make-up, amateurish special effects, arbitrary supernatural logic, disturbing plot points, pacing lulls, and hilarious set pieces, (that are probably not supposed to be hilarious), all create a cacophony of inconsistency. Under a more skilled director's hands and with everyone in front of the screen getting on the same page, something agreeable could have been made with the ingredients here, but as it stands, this is messy stuff.
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