1980s horror

Slaughterhouse Rock

slaughterhouserock

Slaughterhouse Rock (1988)

Alex (Nicholas Celozzi) has been having nightmares about a cannibalistic Confederate soldier known as “The Commandant” who hangs out in Alcatraz. These night terrors are so bad that the line between reality and dreams has become blurred. Recently, a rock band led by Sammy Mitchell (Toni Basil) was slaughtered in the famous prison while recording a music video. Alex, his brother Richard (Tom Reilly), and a bunch of their friends decide to go to Alcatraz before Alex’s dreams drive him crazy. They are joined by Alex’s new girlfriend Jan (Tamara Hyler) and paranormal expert Carolyn (Donna Denton). After Richard is possessed by the spirit of “The Commandant” and starts killing their friends, it’s up to Alex and the ghost of Sammy to stop him.

Why did this movie take me so long to find? Why was I looking for it? The answer to the second question is simple: Toni Basil “starring” in a horror movie. I am just slightly obsessed with the 80s dance princess and boy oh boy did I ever get burned on this one. This is easily one of the most irritating movies I’ve ever seen. When you spend two bucks on a VHS tape, you don’t always get gold. Surprised?

The direction and editing of Slaughterhouse Rock scream heavy metal video at first but this slick aesthetic is quickly abandoned for a very, very bland tone for most of the film. In fact, I kept waiting for a music and dance sequence to break out and save this flick from its own mediocrity. Toni Basil’s fictional rock band doesn’t even get a music video! Cripes man, if only the crew behind this bloated bag of ass-wind had at least tried to make something out of their stolen ideas from The Evil Dead, this picture might have at least been salvageable.

Unlikeable characters, pitiful dialogue, and an uninspired (or untalented) cast come together to put the finishing touches on the feces finger-painting the production team started. The worst offender is Nicholas Celozzi who has the unfortunate task of portraying Alex, our hero. Not only is this guy a whiny douche, every line he gets is sarcastic. Every single line! However, his bottomless sarcasm is no match for Tamara Hyler’s blandness. Hyler plays the comically boring and painfully plain Jan, who is seen reading a copy of “Love’s Tender Fury”.

Okay, there were some good folks in Slaughterhouse Rock. For instance, the gratuitous nudity comes from the surprisingly good Hope Marie Carlton (Slumber Party Massacre III) who plays Krista, Richard’s girlfriend (and demonic rape victim). Tom Reilly is acceptable as Richard, Alex’s doomed brother and makes for a creepy baddie once he’s possessed. Donna Denton (who should have done more horror movies) is the right kind of cheesy as Carolyn, the supernatural enthusiast and cloak-wearer.

Toni Basil, the shining light in the darkness, doesn’t show up until 45 minutes into the film but takes full advantage of her screen time. Her character, occult rocker Sammy Mitchell, gets nearly a dozen costume changes and lots of candy ass dialogue about demonic possession and metaphysical mumbo jumbo. Basil camps it up and makes her scenes worth waiting for.

Some nasty gore setpieces and a (barely existent) soundtrack by DEVO don’t save this flick from the nonexistent logic, disjointed scenes, and shitty editing. Show those fast-forwarded clouds again. THEY ARE SO SPOOKY! Or how about we run some clips of things that happened earlier in the movie? Nice! That was sarcasm, Alex. Get it? No, you probably don’t. Not even the great Toni Basil can save Slaughterhouse Rock from itself. I can gripe and gripe some more about how this film could have been better but I won’t. I did like the old ledger that contains the writings of “Indian medicine men”. I’ll be checking that out at my local library.

“Does an accordion player wear a pinky ring?”

The Sweet House of Horrors

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The Sweet House of Horrors (1989)

After their parents are brutally murdered by a burglar, Marco (Giuliano Gensini) and Sarah (Ilary Blasi) are put in the care of their Aunt Marcia (Cinzia Monreale) and Uncle Carlo (Jean-Christophe Brétigniere). While their Aunt and Uncle are waiting for the children’s home to sell, Marco and Sarah are contacted by the ghosts of their dead parents who don’t want the children to leave. Once they witness some supernatural phenomenon for themselves and begin fearing for the children’s safety, Marcia and Carlo hire an exorcist to cleanse the house of evil spirits.

Along with House of Clocks, Lucio Fulci directed The Sweet House of Horrors for Italian television. After reading a very negative review of this film several years ago, I put it on the imaginary “oh well, I’ll never watch that one” shelf. Well, after Doomed Fulci-Thon, I say all bets are off, people. It’s time for me to buckle down and watch every dang thing that the “Godfather of Gore” ever directed.

Here’s the paragraph where I slam the film. The writing is quite confusing and lame. Some of the comedy works but the backhoe scene is unspeakably stupid. Here’s another script featuring characters speaking their painfully obvious thoughts out loud for the audience‘s sake. The subplot with the burglar’s comeuppance is okay but seems more like an afterthought. There is a plethora of cheesy and mostly embarrassing optical effects if you’re into that kind of thing. Most annoying though, is the film’s terrible English dubbing rendering most of the characters even dumber than their dialogue.

And now I must praise the film. There is some attention-grabbing gore in the first few minutes and a couple more gruesome moments later in the film that were excellent. The lighting, Sebastiano Celeste’s camerawork (fisheye lens and soft focus!), and the set design are all surprising good for an Italian television production. Most importantly, a clearly inspired Fulci establishes a very bizarre and often creepy atmosphere that holds up throughout most of the film.

The lovely Cinzia Monreale of The Beyond and Beyond the Darkness graces us with her presence. The kids, Ilary Blasi and Giuliano Gensini, aren’t terrible child actors by any means but when they’re voiced by adults pretending to be children, things get ugly. The most bizarre casting has to be the Abraham Lincoln lookalike in a turtleneck (French actor Vernon Dobtcheff) as the Russian (who speaks German) exorcist.

Once again, I’ve done myself a disservice by avoiding a Fulci film based on a poor review I barely even remember reading. Without a doubt, The Sweet House of Horrors has its problems but it’s definitely a watchable title. There’s a lot to like here especially for Fulci completists like myself. As my standards have been severely lowered by Door to Silence, I’m probably not the most reliable reviewer of this stuff anymore. Shocked? Me neither. But I know one thing… I do loves me a séance sequence! I can’t wait to watch this again.

“Don’t believe him. Grownups are all liars.”

Dark Romances

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Dark Romances I & II (1990)

This horror anthology has seven separate stories. In “The Black Veil”, Meg (Elizabeth Morehead) visits her college friend, Justine (Julie Carlson), to try and rescue her from the unsavory life she is leading in the Grand Guignol theatre. Little does Meg know, that Justine is in more trouble than even she realizes. In “Listen To Midnight” photographer Tod’s (Ron Roleck) questionable lifestyle finally catches up with him when he brings home the wrong woman.

“She’s Bad, She’s Blonde, She’s Lunch” is the story of a criminal couple who have a fateful meeting with a mad scientist (Fox Harris) and his creation. In “Cardinal Sin” a young man’s desires clash with his mother’s overbearing religious beliefs with deadly results. “Pet Shop Of Death” is the tale of Sam (Mark Addy), a man who will go to great lengths to get his dominating wife (Katina Garner) off his back in order to win the affections of his sexy neighbor. In “Last Love” a woman attempts to bring her dead lover back to life. The last story, “What Goes Around…” tells of a washed up artist (Jeff Maxwell) whose inspiration is renewed when he gets involved with a mysterious woman named Diana (Brinke Stevens). Unfortunately, she wants to destroy him in order to bring him success.

Surprise. Bewilderment. Awe. Ouch. These are just a few of the things I’m experiencing while walking away from a back to back Dark Romances marathon. Garage gore, sub-ironic product placement, arthouse aspirations, every paltry video effect known to man, ineluctable late 80s cheese, dialogue like broken glass, schlocky acting, Brinke Stevens (Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama), and much, much more await you here in this very dense and oddly hypnotic shot-on-video horror anthology.

While I’m impressed by the ambitious storyline and setting of “The Black Veil”, sitting through it is another matter entirely. An intentional (I hope) soft focus haze persists throughout the running time of this (overlong) section but some excessive gore makes up for a lot of this. Up next is one of my favorite pieces from the anthology called “Talk To Midnight” which features Ron Roleck as Tod, the sleazy photographer with enough neo-noir moxie to peel the paint off a Maserati. Tod finally meets his match in Ginger (played by Anita Coleito), a voluptuous vamp sweet enough to give me cavities. Cavities of death!

On tape 2, the second best of the best comes tearing across the screen with a vengeance: “She’s Bad, She’s Blonde, She’s Lunch”. A neat little disclaimer warns the viewer of impending doom but even that didn’t prepare me for the sheer delight I was in store for. Ruth Waytz and Ron Kologie go on a murderous rampage in a comic book store and the next thing I know, Fox Harris (Repo Man, Dr. Caligari) is making me feel alive again. Then this green and naked monster shows up and the movie erupts with some fugly vaginal and phallic symbols. Simply joyous.

I’ve had enough already and yet tape 2 keeps running. “Cardinal Sin” is loaded with repressed sexual urges, blood, and pornstar Elle Rio steaming things up. The next installment, “Pet Shop Of Death” is an indie horror near-masterpiece with much demented fun to be had. “Last Love” is somewhat weak and really not welcome at this point in the game. Thankfully, the black and white finale, “What Goes Around…”, is just ridiculous enough to finish things off. Besides, it stars Brinke Stevens as the collector of artists’ parts (I mean, souls) and the trippy sci-fi nonsense angle adds some spice to this one quite nicely.

And we’re done. I’m jittery, bloated, but not irritable. Despite some weak moments, Dark Romances is one hell of a trashy fun time. The it’s-so-80s-it-hurts vibe only makes the 3 hour ride all the more endearing. The gore and nudity run rampant in some sections while other “artier(!?!)” stories in the anthology are somewhat tame. Even the clunkier sections (“The Black Veil” and “Last Love”) have their own style and don’t require any fast-forwarding. Brinke Stevens keeps popping up in all the stories so yeah, stay tuned! Both volumes of Dark Romances are clearly a labor of love for those involved and it’s a shame that this title remains somewhat obscure. I’m going to go and stare at some neon lights now and eat some frozen yogurt.

Zeder

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Zeder AKA Revenge of the Dead (1983)

After receiving a used typewriter for an anniversary present, Stefano (Gabriele Lavia) discovers a bizarre treatise on raising the dead imprinted on the ribbon. He convinces his wife, Alessandra (Anne Canovas), and his best friend, Guido (Alessandro Partexano), to aid him in his search for the “K Zones”, areas where the dead return to life. Meanwhile, a group of scientists are conducting their own research in this phenomenon with deadly results. As Stefano gets closer to finding the truth, he uncovers a conspiracy which someone is willing to kill in order to keep hidden.

Pupi Avati (The House with the Laughing Windows) directs this superb and very odd little horror film. The eccentricities of Zeder come mainly from how the film never really moves when and in what direction you expect it to. Even the brilliant (though wholly bizarre) soundtrack by Riz Ortolani (Seven Deaths in the Cat’s Eye) defies expectations by laying out a Goblin-like bass riff that gives way to a seriously maladjusted string arrangement.

The plot gets shaky as the scenes with the scientists don’t quite gel with those of Stefano. I think the problem lies in the amount of mystery surrounding their research. I’m glad the film doesn’t go too far explaining every little detail but I’m just left wanting more. I like it when movies do that.

Gabriele Lavia (Deep Red, Beyond the Door) plays Stefano, another one of Avati’s damned heroes (see Laughing Windows), perfectly. It is amazing to watch Lavia as Stefano, this obsessive character who becomes intrigued by a mystery only to be totally consumed by it. Another doomed individual is Dr. Goodman, played by Paola Tanziani, whose contact with the undead left her physically and emotionally scarred. I really dig this actress and it astounds me that didn’t make anymore films after this one.

Wow, Zeder has slowly crawled its way into my top ten favorite Italian horror films of all time. I rented this film under the misleading Revenge of the Dead title at my local video store when I was a kid and it really didn’t sit well with me. Aside from disappointment of the zombie onslaught the VHS cover art promised, I was genuinely creeped out by this one. Zeder managed to stay with me years after watching it. The idea that death is a patient creature willing to let you sprint ahead only to catch you the moment you collapse combined with its amusement at humankind’s futile attempts to escape the inevitable is some dang creepy shit.

What we’ve got here is Zeder, an atypical zombie film. Sure, there’s a couple of undead creatures wreaking havoc in Bologna but don’t expect any brain-eating, flesh-eating, or gunshots to the head. Like I said before, this film does not behave in a normal horror movie manner but that is exactly what makes it so awesome. Patient viewers will be rewarded with a sense of dread that only the Italians know how to deliver. Nice job, Pupi.

Invitation to Hell

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Invitation to Hell (1984)

The Winslow family has relocated so that Matt, the dad (Robert Urich), can start his new job at an electronics corporation called Micro-Digitech. His special talent with electronics will be applied to a new spacesuit the company is developing. This heat resistant spacesuit is equipped with a deadly laser, a flamethrower, and sensors that can detect whether or not a being is human or not. Hmm, I wonder if that will come in handy later?

The Winslows have a beautiful home in an idyllic neighborhood but things aren’t all that they seem. Jessica Jones (Susan Lucci), director of the Steaming Springs country club keeps encouraging Matt and his family to join. But this is no ordinary country club. The membership fee is very reasonable; it will only cost you your soul! Matt is able to resist the temptations of Steamy Springs but his dumb family are a bunch of selfish twits who don’t know any better. Now he has to put on a friggin’ spacesuit and go save them.

Released only months before A Nightmare on Elm Street destroyed the world, Invitation to Hell is one of Wes Craven’s best failures. Like his pitiful Deadly Friend, this cheesy and incredibly dated made-for-TV movie bears absolutely no resemblance to other Craven classics like Last House on the Left and The Hills Have Eyes. I’m just now discovering a bunch of these little televised gems from Craven’s body of work for myself and so far I’m not regretting it at all.

Screenwriter Richard Rothstein (who went on to write Universal Soldier) did most of the damage so I guess it really doesn’t matter who directed this thing. The plot is laughably generic and the camp value hits great heights once Matt’s family gets possessed by demons. The goofy special effects (mostly fog machines, lasers and matte paintings) are never very impressive but are a helluva lotta fun, especially in the film’s not-so-climactic climax.

Oh man, the cast is like so totally awesome. Robert Urich, super macho badass of the century, plays something of a wimp in this one. Matt takes way more shit than he should but makes up for it with a few blasts from his laser gun. Joanna Cassidy (of Bladerunner) plays his sweet but materialistic wife who turns into a vicious vamp once she gets possessed. Soleil Moon Frye is so adorable as their daughter, Crissy, especially when she starts talking in that demonic voice. The shit is priceless. Even Joe Regalbuto (always good at playing a sleazeball) and the friggin’ amazing Kevin McCarthy (of UHF and The Howling) are also in this one. Yet it is Susan Lucci who steals the show as Jessica Jones (sounds like a porn name), the megabitch from hell.

All of you fabulous purveyors of silly 80s crap, need to get your hands on Invitation to Hell. This little throwaway TV blunder is pretty dang awesome if you’re willing to let it steal your soul for a little while. The super sweet ending proves once and for all that only love can conquer the forces of evil. No, I’m serious. Without love, evil country clubs will take a hot steaming demonic dump on your family. Especially your children. Is that what you want? A bunch of Satan’s excrement on your kids? Fine, be that way.

“We are the winners. We have to get rid of the losers.”

Fan, The

fan-1981

The Fan (1981)

Renowned film and stage actress, Sally Ross (Lauren Bacall), is making her Broadway debut and is also still settling in after her divorce from Jake (James Garner). So she has very little time to notice the letters of an obsessive fan named Douglas Breen (Michael Biehn) which are growing increasingly frightening. Breen quits his record store job in order to focus entirely on his growing “relationship” with Ross. He begins violently assaulting anyone close to her in order to make her take notice of him. Against the wishes of Inspector Andrews (Hector Elizondo), Sally flees to her beach home until word of Breen’s apparent suicide and a chance at a new start with Jake brings her back to the city and to her Broadway show. Unfortunately for Sally, stage-fright isn’t the only thing she has to worry about on opening night.

This 1981 thriller isn’t to be confused with the Snipes/De Niro disaster of the same name. No, The Fan starring Lauren Bacall is a disaster all its own. Edward Bianichi’s directorial debut is a clunky one (he didn’t direct another feature film for a decade) with several inspired moments. Cinematography by Dick Bush (Laughter in the Dark, Twins of Evil) is technically astounding and the film’s final shot is breathtaking. The incredible Pino Donaggio composes another excellent score for The Fan. Even the cast is top notch and the writing is decent enough to hold the film together. All the right pieces for a classic film are in place but something went wrong here. Let’s investigate, shall we?

Michael Biehn (Aliens, The Abyss) is quite convincing as Douglas, the obsessed fan. He nails the psycho part perfectly. Lauren Bacall is excellent as the sheltered and naive Sally Ross who thinks that she has seen it all. As Sally’s situation becomes more and more dire and her friends turn up either dead or horribly injured, Bacall convincingly transforms her character into a dynamic person with more on her mind than bumping into her ex-husband at a party. James Garner and Lauren Bacall’s chemistry as a divorced couple works quite well but when their relationship starts to blossom again, it just doesn’t float. Hector Elizondo is perfectly cast as Inspector Andrews. A standard cop character in anyone else’s hands, Elizondo easily breathes life into his minor role, often stealing scenes from the rest of the cast.

What is with the late 70s/early 80s obsession with Broadway? The scenes where Sally Ross is preparing for her musical debut are just fine because they are rehearsals and meant to be rough around the edges. But once her act hits the stage near the end of the film, take cover. Lauren Bacall cannot sing and her wonderful screen presence does not translate to a Broadway musical performance. Its’ just plain bad and I can only assume that the musical scenes are meant to be completely serious.

Another problem with the movie is the absence of gore and the inability of the director to stage a decent death scene. Now don’t get me wrong, there is quite a bit of blood shed and even a pierced jugular thrown in for good measure but the film is lacking that hard edge that a trashy ’81 thriller desperately needs. The most stilted and awkward moments in the film (other than the Broadway bits) come during the violent scenes. The attacks on Sally’s friends feel overly cautious. It may have been a studio imposed censorship (nice going, Paramount!) or the director holding back but they just aren’t very shocking at all. Bianichi can easily build tension but when it all comes to a head, I feel cheated.

The Fan is definitely an interesting watch but the filmmakers’ and the studio’s lack of confidence in the film really shows. Some of the film is shocking and sleazy while some of it is very tame where it shouldn’t be. The stalker phenomenon may be completely played out nowadays but if one watches this with 1981 eyes (don’t ask me what those are) then The Fan still manages to be quite frightening and tense through much of its running time. If nothing else, watch it for that final shot.

Church, The

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The Church (1989)

Sometime in the 12th century, a group of Teutonic knights slaughtered a group of Pagans thinking them to plagued by a Satanic curse. A church was built on top of the site of the massacre. 800 years later, Evan the librarian (Tomas Arana) uncovers an ancient document that details a horrifying incident which inspired the design of the church. The closer Evan gets to uncovering the truth, the more bizarre and horrifying events begin to take place. When blood is shed inside the church, an automatic locking system traps everyone inside. Father Gus (Hugh Quarshie) tries to do his best to find the secret of the church’s architect in order to destroy the demonic plague before it spreads outside the church and destroys the world.

Michele Soavi (Stagefright) directs The Church AKA La Chiesa, an exercise in unholy atmosphere and gory entertainments. Visually, this film is nearly perfect: the razor-sharp cinematography, moody lighting, and must-be-seen-to-be-believed setpieces all come together in a dizzying explosion of hot and goopy damnation. The soundtrack provided by Keith Emerson, Philip Glass, Fabio Pignatelli, and Goblin is fantastic without a trace of any inappropriate heavy metal or silly pop.

Where the film goes wrong is in the writing. There are 8 or so writing credits (some credited, some not) heaped on The Church and you can really tell. This is one confusing film with many, many unanswered questions. The best unintentionally hilarious moment comes when Barbara Cupisti’s character calls the police from her (seemingly remote) cabin and their response time is around 30 seconds. Those viewers who need to understand what they’re watching will want to avoid this film. Oh, and the English dubbing. Holy crow, there are some awful voices and performances in this one.

TV and film actor, Hugh Quarshie, is excellent as Father Gus but where’s the dang character development? It’s pretty obvious that he’s the hero of the story once Evan the librarian goes south but the film could have easily devoted some time to giving some background to what drives Father Gus. Put Tomas Arana (Body Puzzle) on the list of actors that I don’t trust. Seriously, this guy is really creepy and I really hope he gets some more starring roles in horror films.

The Church sports quite a familiar faces from the Italian horror world. With an unforgettably menacing visage, Feodor Chaliapin Jr. (Dario Argento’s Inferno) is great as the creepy bishop. The queen of the overbites, Barbara Cupisti (Stagefright), plays Lisa, a young woman working at restoring the church’s frescos. The lovely and criminally underused actress Antonella Vitale gets all messed up in her role as “Bridal Model”. Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for even more Italian horror awesomeness: John Richardson of Fear, Giovanni Radice of House On The Edge Of The Park, and of course, Asia Argento of The Stendhal Syndrome and Trauma.

The Church is a visually stunning film with a seriously battered and neglected script. The plot trails off several times and the WTF? factor is quite high throughout the running time. Thanks to Dario Argento’s producer credit, this film is quite lavish when compared to much of the late 80s Italian horror output. (Note: Supposedly, Dario Argento imposed some cuts to the film against Soavi’s wishes which might explain much of the film’s confusing narrative.) Also, you’ll have a tough time trying to find a film with as much blasphemy, perversion, and gore as The Church. The extremely talented Soavi went on to do even more amazing films such as The Sect and Cemetery Man before spending time directing made-for-TV action and drama films. We should all collectively pray that he returns to horror very soon.

“C’mon, have a biscuit! They’re groovy!”

Alien Predator

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Alien Predator (1985)

When Skylab crashes to Earth containing an alien parasite that causes people to go mad shortly before their heads explode, NASA steps in to clean up the mess. Unfortunately, the monstrous parasite proves to be too much for the scientists and their temporary base in Duerte, Spain is abandoned and the entire town is infected. Three American college students: Damon (Dennis Christopher), Michael (Martin Hewitt), and Sam (Lynn-Holly Johnson) just happen to be driving their RV through Duerte when they discover that the town is full of raving lunatics. They meet Dr. Tracer (Luis Prendes), a specialist from NASA, who believes he can develop an antidote to the parasite. Now the four of them must fight off the insane inhabitants of the town while working on the antidote before the rest of the world becomes infected.

Seeketh splatter and ye shall find it. But at what cost? I finally tracked down Alien Predator (thanks to the help of Uncle Sam at B-Headed). You see, I had nothing more than a couple of half-remembered scenes to go on. My mind was snagged on some images of mutilated corpses and dreary Spanish scenery from a movie I hadn’t seen in 20 years. So here I am, reunited (and it feels so good?) with Alien Predator at last. Why don’t we scavenge this corpse together? Chicken violence!

Deran Sarafian directs Alien Predator (about a million miles away from Alien Vs. Predator), a horror/sci-fi film that is dark, surreal, splattery, and pretty dumb, all at the same time. The story, based on a screenplay called “RV Park Massacre” or some BS, is pretty clunky, somewhat padded, and wildly unoriginal. Hey, how about another car chase!?! There are some disturbing and quite nasty gore setpieces scattered throughout the film but they just aren’t enough to catapult Alien Predator into the halls of classic splatter flicks. The soundtrack is ominous and perfectly suited for a horror movie until it suddenly dips into some 80s ass pop. Decent lighting and workmanlike cinematography come together quite well to provide a handful of eerie moments. The Spanish locations are especially drab adding to the sickening and hopeless atmosphere of the film.

Dennis Christopher (Fade To Black, Doppelganger) delivers as Damon, a goofy but rarely irritating “ladies man” (read as: subdued and charming crackhead). Veteran Spanish actor Luis Prendes does a fine job as Dr. Tracer but I’m sure glad he ditched his sidekick early on. I’m talking about J.O. Bosso. I don’t know who he is but I know that I couldn’t have been any happier when his character, Captain Wells, blows his brains out. Bond-girl Lynn-Holly Johnson (The Watcher In The Woods) is great with her spunky portrayal of (bad hair) Sam.

Now this is where the casting of this film is even more damaging than the script: Martin Hewitt as Michael. Holy shit, this guy is a terrible performer and astoundingly bland. His only believable scene is at the beginning when he is asleep at the wheel of the RV. Once the romance between Michael and Sam starts heating up, it’s all over. The fact that this is supposed to be our hero couldn’t be more pitiful. Dennis Christopher is clearly the romantic lead, dang it! I probably shouldn’t elaborate on my feelings.

Even though this movie was scratching at the back of my mind for 20 years and even though I really enjoyed it, I’m still having a tough time working up a good recommendation. As creepy and gory (exploding faces!) as Alien Predator is, it is also painfully stupid. The film gets bogged down in lame car chases and a romantic sub-diversion that will have you screaming for (“Hollywood’s #1 Driver!”) Michael’s head on a platter. In the film’s favor, there is an undeniable aura of weirdness throughout (dig those locals) and I’m astounded that the filmmakers got so much right. Alien Predator delivers quite a few genuinely haunting moments and downright freaky gore effects but folks looking for a lost 80s classic will be disappointed. I just can’t believe that I snuck this one past my parents all those years ago. Suckers!