GRAVEYARD SHIFT (1990)

 

(a.k.a. STEPHEN KING’S GRAVEYARD SHIFT; director: Ralph S. Singleton. Screenwriter: John Esposito, his script loosely based on Stephen King’s short story of the same name, originally published in Cavalier magazine, October 1970 issue, and later collected in King’s 1978 story anthology NIGHT SHIFT.)

 

Review

A drifter, John Hall (David Andrews, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, 1984), wanders into a Maine textile mill town, and is hired at the cemetery- and river-adjacent Bachman Mill by its sadistic manager, Warwick (Stephen Macht, THE MONSTER SQUAD, 1987). The mill, like the town, is a seething cesspool of economic desperation, interpersonal tension, amassing rats (there’s rat hair in the local diner’s food), chemical pollution, health code violations, fatal “accidents” and lechery─that last quality is especially embodied by Warwick, who’s slept with many of his female employees. Warwick dislikes polite “college boy” (Warwick’s words) Hall. His barely restrained animosity increases when Jane Wisconsky (Kelly Wolf), who regularly rebuffs the mill manager’s advances, engages in a flirtatious friendship with Hall.

Several violent, gory employee deaths─shown onscreen as extreme close-up monster attacks─happen during Hall’s first few days in town. July fourth quickly arrives. That means that the mill needs its  decades-abandoned, and trash-filled basement cleaned to get ahead of expensive health code violations that might shut the mill down. Cleanup employees, supervised by Warwick, include Hall, Wisconsky, Carmichael (a newly hired African American employee), and several of Warwick’s cronies (Danson, Brogan, and Stevenson, who’ve been bullying the strong-but-restrained Hall).

Hall, during the shift, discovers the source of the swarming rats: an abandoned subbasement they’ve been driven from, leading to the question: what drove them from their cemetery-linked nest? Unfortunately for Warwick, Hall, and the others it’s a subbasement they must investigate. 

This critically and audience underrated film is one of my favorite King-cinematic adaptations. GRAVEYARD is pervasive-dread atmospheric with its down and dirty execution, icky and dark visuals, and shadow-past characters (few are innocent here, except for Carmichael and Wisconsky).

GRAVEYARD spices its ugly, sharp tone with Vietnam War metaphors and set-ups, e.g., Tucker Cleveland (called “The Exterminator” by IMDb), a vermin killer for Marshall Extermination, is a vocal Vietnam veteran. Also, lots of closeup shots resemble war-film combat shots, especially in GRAVEYARD’s third act when Warwick’s alpha male actions further endanger those around him.

The monster, initially seen in extreme closeups (big shadow, claws, wings, jaws, etc.), is realistic enough to be believable while incorporating a 1950s Big Monster details in the visual mix. It, like many of the film’s other elements, maintains GRAVEYARD’s down and dirty vibe and overall thematic conceit. I can well imagine director/special effects artist Bert I. Gordon approving of it.

GRAVEYARD also has an underlying sense of humor, like the scene where one of the characters, Ippeston, sitting in a diner booth behind Hall and Wisconsky, reads a paperback copy of Gilbert A. Ralston’s 1972 movie tie-in novel, BEN, about a lonely boy and his pet rat.

This being a King-sourced film, there are references to some of his other works, e.g., Wisconsky’s mention of Castle Rock (the site of numerous King works), and Cleveland’s skewering of “cheap” mine boss (Bachman)─King briefly wrote under the nom de plume Richard Bachman.

The cast is excellent, though two actors steal the film: Stephen Macht, as mill manager Warwick, oozes alpha male malevolence and privilege, making him one of the best villains of any film released in 1990; Brad Dourif’s over-the-top Cleveland harbors a grim-humored hatred of rats and the Vietcong as well as a curious empathy, the latter evidenced by his love of his small, rat-terrorizing dog, Roxie.

Other notable, effective cast members include Andrew Divoff (WISHMASTER, 1997), as Danson, and Victor Polizos (C.H.U.D.,1984) as Brogan, Bachman Mill employees and bullies. Jonathan Emerson (THE UNBORN, 1991) has a brief role at the beginning of the film as Jason Reed, a cotton picker operator who should spend less time mocking rats.

GRAVEYARD isn’t perfect (few films are)─e.g., its editing occasionally feels choppy, especially in the beginning. But if you can overlook that, are not a King purist, are a fan of gory and gritty filmmaking (GRAVEYARD sports great set design, lighting, etc.), and like big, Old School Horror monsters, you might enjoy GRAVEYARD, a good expansion of King’s excellent story.

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For those comparing the differences between the story and the film (minor film-story spoilers follow).  If you don't want to know, read no further.

Tucker Cleveland/The Exterminator doesn’t exist in King’s story. He’s a film-only character.

In the story, Wisconsky is mentioned by Hall as Warwick’s boss. In the film, Hall’s love interest, Jane, has the surname Wisconsky, and the never-shown Bachman is Warwick’s boss.

The film is structured with a Vietnam War metaphor that the source story lacks.

John Hall and Warwick’s cinematic reactions to the discovery of the subbasement are reversed from the story. In the film, Warwick is gung-ho and murderous; Hall, in his right mind, is terrified and runs. In the story, Hall hates Warwick and kills him by impelling the sadistic mill manager toward a giant, mutated rat, described as the magna mater (queen mother).

DON'T LET HER IN (2021)

 

(Director/screenwriter: Ted Nicolaou)

Review

A city-loft, twenty-something couple (Amber and Ben) take in a sexy roommate, Serena, whose stack of cash (“nine months’ rent”) silences their request for her references. Serena is a Goth-dark charmer who deals in (supposedly) healing stones and weird Wicca-esque rituals. It’s not long before Amber and Ben start having disturbing sex dreams (that might not be dreams) about her, night visions where she has the face of a demon. Then a strange man in a duster (Elias Lambe) appears on the street outside their warehouse-district flat. It seems he’s stalking Serena. Who’s a villain here─Elias or Serena?

This brightly lit, hour-long, direct-to-video, demon-themed thriller is (mostly) story-solid and well-directed, a by-the-numbers flick that lacks suspense, sports solid FX and mostly solid performances (to be fair, the actors aren’t given much to work with, given the film’s screenplay and length). There’s welcome humor in one scene involving Amber and the statue, one that recalls a scene in Steven Spielberg’s 1981 film RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK.

Kelly Curran played Amber, blonde, schoolgirl-haircut illustrator who slowly realizes that Serena’s exotic habits may not be holistic. Lorin Doctor played Serena, a dark, bold seductress. Cole Pendery played mellow stoner/rock musician Ben, whose character is especially dumb at important moments. Austin James Parker played the not-given-much-to-do Elias Lambe.

I watched this because I saw Nicolaou’s name attached to it─Nicolaou directed the tightly written and directed, impressive-for-its-budget SUBSPECIES tetralogy (the fifth film is in pre-production). As far as direction, production and writing goes, DON’T is tight like his SUBSPECIES work─unlike those vampire films, it’s a relatively generic experience, albeit one with professional, impressive-for-its-budget and a notable filmmaker at its helm.

THE FOOD OF THE GODS (1976)

 

(Director/screenwriter/special visual effects: Bert I. Gordon)

Review

A mix of H.G. Wells’s 1904 science fiction novel THE FOOD OF THE GODS AND HOW IT CAME TO EARTH and Cy Endfield’s 1961 film adaptation of Jules Verne’s notably different 1874 novel THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND, this 1976 film starts with a heavy-handed voice-over provided by Morgan (Marjoe Gortner, MAUSOLEUM, 1983) telling viewers how he and two football-player buddies went deer-hunting on a Canadian island where they’re attacked by mutated animals. Thankfully, Morgan’s voice-overs merely bookend FOOD (1976).

One of Morgan’s hunting buddies (Davis) is stung to death by man-sized wasps (that look like flying, winged shadows). Morgan and his other friend (Brian) escape, talk to a local woman (Mrs. Skinner, played by Ida Lupino). Skinner, who has mutant chickens and a rooster in her garage, tells Morgan about a weird, white liquid that bubbles out of the earth and how she fed it to her chickens and rooster─the same liquid that might be responsible for the oversized wasps.

Later that evening, Mr. Skinner (John McLiam), back from the mainland, gets a flat tire on his VW Bug and is attacked by a mischief of car-sized rats. More animal-related assaults and deaths follow, including several attacks on Jack Bensington (Ralph Meeker) and his fed-up assistant (Lorna, played by Pamela Franklin)─Bensington owns a company that hopes to strike a deal to distribute the white goo (labeled Food of the Good, FOTG, by the Skinners) for cattle growth.

Then the animals attack en masse! Everything gets crazy violent, lots of arguing, planning, and animal-repelling ensues. More characters die horribly. The familiar ending is solid, believable and (still) timely.

Gordon’s ecological thriller is cheesy, golden turkey fun. There’s a lot to admire about FOOD, released as a PG-rated film (by today’s standards, it’s probably closer to an R). Gordon, known for his big-monster pictures and FX work, wrote and directed this tightly edited movie (e.g., the first ten minutes of FOOD has two giant creature-related deaths). The characters are barely sketched, and the actors are mostly solid in their over-the-top acting (especially Lupino, who make FOOD more fun than it would otherwise be). The practical creature FX are obviously fake in parts, but it makes the film more fun in a nostalgic way. Adding to the enjoyment of these scenes are the sound effects (swarming rats sound like a mix of wild cats, pigs, and something else I couldn’t identify) as well as the suspenseful soundtrack (the latter provided by Eliot Kaplan).

If you have a sense of humor, appreciate solid Seventies B-movies and aren’t sensitive to obviously fake animal deaths (rats were shot with high-intensity blood squirts), this might be your cinematic cheese jam for an hour and a half.

MY BLOODY VALENTINE (2009)

 

(a.k.a  MY BLOODY VALENTINE 3D; director: Patrick Lussier. Screenwriters: Todd Farmer and Zane Smith, based on John Beaird’s 1981 screenplay.)

 

Review

Harmony, a small mining town, Valentine’s Day. Miner Tom Haniger (Jensen Ackles, SUPERNATURAL, 2005-20) forgets to “bleed the [methane] lines” in one of his father’s company’s tunnels, and an explosion traps six men underground. One of them survives, Harry Warden─and he’s in a coma. Local newspaper headlines scream this information as they fly across the screen during the film’s opening credits.

One year later. Tom attends a party at the same mine (tunnel No. 5) where the accident happened. A lot of his peers are there, including Tom’s girlfriend, Sarah Mercer (Jaime King, SILENT NIGHT, 2012). Warden, who’s awakened from his coma and slaughtered twenty or so patients and hospital staff, dons mining gear and a gas mask, and, wielding a pickaxe, attacks those attending the mine party. Just as Warden’s about to kill Tom, the police shoot him dead.

Ten years later, almost Valentine’s Day. Tom, who disappeared after Warden’s attack, returns to Harmony to sign legal papers to sell the mine, still considered by many Harmonians to be the town’s economic lifeblood. He’s cagy about where he’s been, further alienating others, including his ex, Sarah, who’s married to one of their friends, Axel Palmer (Kerr Smith, FINAL DESTINATION, 2000), the local sheriff who has a secret or two of his own.

New murders occur─one of the victims a trucker named Frank (co-screenwriter Todd Farmer)─and the main suspect, of course, is Tom, who survives a second attack by The Miner). Tom begins an investigation independent of Axel, hostile toward Tom, believing him to be the killer. Meanwhile, the gory, splashy mayhem and attacks continue.

This remake of the 1981 stab ‘n’ pickaxe film wastes no time in its execution, and is notably different than its grim, atmospheric source film. The 2009 version has a slicker look (not surprising, since it was released as a 3D, “Real D,” movie), and cuts to the terror quicker─there’s also more suspense, nudity, gore, explicit violence and dead bodies, and The Miner’s murder style is more brutal, though just as creative. Conflict between many of the characters, especially Tom and Axel’s, are heightened, while director Lussier’s restive cameras add to the film’s roller-coaster-fast and source film-respecting storyline.

Additonally, Lussier and Cynthia Ludwig’s editing keep the movie tight and suspenseful, an effect furthered by Michael Wandmacher’s jump scare-punctuated score, Brian Pearson’s cinematography, and the film’s art/set design. The acting, across the board, is solid, including these notable players: Tom Atkins (THE FOG, 1980) as Chief Burke; Kevin Tighe as Ben Foley. Megan Boone (THE BLACKLIST, 2013-?) as Megan. Edi Gathegi (THE BLACKLIST, 2013-?) as Deputy Martin; and Marc Macauley (DRIVE ANGRY, 2011) as Riggs. Richard John Walters, billed as Rich Walters, played Harry Warden.

MY, like the notably different 1981 film that spawned it, is worth seeing, both aspire to do what a good splatter-genre flick should: entertain with R-rated gore, sex, delusion, and violence.

MORTUARY (1983)

 

(Director/co-screenwriter: Howard Avedis. Co-screenwriter: Marlene Schmidt, who also appeared in the film as Lois Stevens.)

Review

After a middle-aged psychiatrist (Dr. Parson), relaxing at home, is murdered poolside, it’s ruled an accident. Everyone but his frantic daughter, Christie (Mary Beth McDonough, MIDNIGHT OFFERINGS, 1981), believes it.

Later, Christie’s boyfriend (Josh) and his friend (Greg Stevens) break into Josh's ex-boss’s warehouse, where they accidentally witness a robed satanic séance in the basement and are discovered. Josh, away from Greg, is murdered then hidden by a black-robed assailant wielding a long embalming tube. Greg, with Christy, looks for Josh, to no avail. When they report what happened to the police, the police dismiss it as a prank. Then more alarming events occur while the Greg and Christie dig deeper into the mystery, not the least of which is: who is Christie’s black-robed stalker?

Given the clues and brief glimpses of the killer’s face, it’s easy to figure out that cultist’s identity (not a criticism). If I do have any criticisms, it’s that the characters sometimes don’t act in ways that make sense, e.g., why doesn’t Christie confront her mother, Eve (Lynda Day George, PIECES, 1982), who clearly knows more than she’s saying? Also, MORTUARY runs twenty minutes too long─if the sex and several pursuit scenes had been shortened, it would’ve made this a taut, striking film. Its shock ending it anything but, although I understand why they might’ve used it.

Despite these nits, there’s a lot to like about MORTUARY. It’s suspenseful and creepy in many parts. John Cacavas’s score is mood-effective and weird when it needs to be, and the film is mostly fast-paced until its last third. The acting, some of it appropriately melodramatic, ranges from good to solid.

Bill Paxton (BUTCHER, BAKER, NIGHTMARE MAKER, 1981) is a standout player as Paul Andrews, a creepy funeral home employee who’s crushing on Christie. Christopher George (CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, 1980) is fun in his final film as Hank Andrews, Paul’s cultist, frustrated father and employer. David Wysocki, billed as David Wallace, is solid as Greg Stevens─Wysocki appeared in television shows and other movies (among the latter, HUMONGOUS, 1981).

MORTUARY is an often fun, R-rated, cultic-stalker movie with enough weird charm and strange-blend story elements to recommend it for a late night when you’re tired, have nothing else to watch, and want to fall asleep to something trashy and oddball with a few notable actors.