If you think watching people play Dungeons & Dragons is boring, Knight Chills would like to have a word with you. Now, you’re correct and the shot-on-video movie is dead wrong, but Knight Chills wants a word nonetheless. It’s either not listening or doesn’t care an iota. You’re going to see some serious, no-move-spared RPGing, dammit.
Once a week, a handful of students meet for D&Ding in the basement of a teacher (Tim Jeffrey) who doubles as dungeon master: “The scent of nutmeg is overwhelming.” John (Michael Rene Walton, Superfights) is one of the regulars, despite being openly ridiculed and bullied by the others. John’s dogged attendance might have something to do with fellow gamer Brooke (Laura Tidwell) looking like a layaway-plan Jessica Chastain.
After Brooke soundly rejects John’s date offer in front of the others, he dons the full regalia — from armor to sword — of his gaming character, Sir Kallio, and embarks on a killing spree of vengeance. Even with “Sir Kallio” being a name one shouldn’t speak in the presence of others, Knight Chills’ premise is terrific for a slasher movie, yet near-instantly squandered by first-/last-time director Katherine Hicks.
Although each kill is different, milady, that variety across homicides isn’t enough to offset the mind-numbing scenes of seemingly eternal game play. The scent of something is overwhelming, all right, but it sure ain’t nutmeg. Zero hit points. —Rod Lott
With a revisit of Godzilla 1985, the biggest question isn’t why it took Toho more than a decade to bring the king of the monsters back from retirement. The biggest question also isn’t why it ignores the 14 sequels following the 1954 original Godzilla. Rather, the biggest question is why the opening introduces some kind of flying tick the size of an Igloo ice chest, only for it to never reappear.
At least that’s my biggest question. More serious G-fans may wonder otherwise, like, “This was the first Godzilla movie you saw in full?” It sure was! Before I could drive, it took some convincing for my mom to rent it for me. New World Pictures’ VHS release had Marv Newland’s immortal Bambi Meets Godzilla cartoon playing upfront, too.
But to answer the inquiries posed in paragraph one: Who cares when Raymond Burr is back! Returning for the first and last time since the Americanized franchise-starter, Burr (Gorilla at Large) is the barrel-chested newspaperman Steven (née Steve) Martin. Also returning: Godzilla, re-emerging in Japan after all these years, taking out a Russian sub in the process. The Russkies blame the U.S., not the big lizard, thereby stoking nuclear fears.
As the lone Western Hemisphere-based survivor of Godzilla’s initial stampede three decades prior — you know, before the world discovered color — Martin is summoned to the Pentagon as an adviser. The Pentagon is played by a darkened room, plus one hallway to allow for product placement for Dr Pepper, so misunderstood.
That’s about all the “story” Godzilla 1985 requires. The Japanese authorities employ bird chirps to lure our favorite kaiju into a volcano; luckily, Godzilla takes a detour to stomp the shit out of downtown Tokyo first — the film’s raison d’être. Having previously performed assistant duties on King Kong vs. Godzilla and others, director Koji Hashimoto understands his simple mission and rises to the occasion: Showcase the nice model work and get out of the way.
By contrast, the Burr/Pentagon/American footage handled by R.J. Kizer (Hell Comes to Frogtown) is all passive spectatorship. However, it does allow for the introduction of, despite his red hair, a U.S. military major (Travis Swords, Pink Cadillac) who milks his second-banana status for all it’s worth. For example, while monitoring the sitch in Japan, he notes, “That’s quite an urban renewal program they’ve got going over there.” He’s not wrong. —Rod Lott
Considered a “lost classic” of sorts, Anthony Waller’s 1995 horror-thriller, Mute Witness, is now enjoying a renaissance.
A slick, Hitchcockian genre-bender, the narrative follows Billy Hughes (Marina Zudina), a mute makeup artist working on a low-budget slasher in Moscow alongside her sister, Karen (Fay Ripley), and Karen’s director boyfriend, Andy (Evan Richards). The movie’s opening scene is a brilliant film-within-a-film, whereby we see a woman terrorized by a knife-wielding escapee from a mental institution — a clear and gentle lampooning of slasher conventions that continues throughout Mute Witness, making it another meta title before Scream made the convention cool a year later.
The plot really picks up when Billy gets accidentally locked inside the film studio for the night. She hears men speaking Russian and, moving toward them, spies cameraman Lyosha (Sergei Karlenkov) and actor Arkadi (Igor Volkov) shooting a porno with a blonde actress (Larisa Khusnullina). Billy watches, at first amused, but when the action turns violent, she becomes worried. That’s when Arkadi pulls a knife from under a pillow and brutally stabs the actress to death, prompting Billy to silently scream in terror and run. She hits a coat rack on her way out of the room, making just enough noise to alert Lyosha and Arkadi that someone might’ve been watching them make their snuff film.
What follows is a classic slasher chase scene, with the men searching the building for their interloper, and Billy craftily hiding from them as she looks for a way out. It’s an extended and tense sequence executed with expertise by Waller, and it’s only a precursor to the delightful twists and turns the film packs into its hour-and-a-half runtime.
Mute Witness isn’t just a wild ride in terms of its action, it’s also by turns hilarious, in particular when involving scenes with Andy, the inept and spoiled American filmmaker whose constant gaslighting of Billy generates uncomfortable forms of horror all its own. There’s also a “Mystery Guest Star” who shows up about midway through, whose role is brief but delightfully memorable. The plot may thicken a little too much for some viewers, making the proceedings a bit convoluted, but if you remember that the point is loving homage (and sometimes spoof), rather than to create a thoroughly serious slasher-mystery-thriller, then you’re bound to have a good time with the film. —Christopher Shultz
Those less familiar with the source material for David Lowery’s The Green Knightmight’ve been surprised by that decidedly nonviolent fantasy flick. And you wouldn’t be alone. Maybe the role even left its lead, Dev Patel, somewhat hungry for a more straightforward revenge tale. All he would need to do is write, direct and produce it himself.
Enter Monkey Man, Patel’s directorial debut that offers a frenetic and brutal film that stabs, slices and punches past a mob of John Wickimitators. (Yes, even you, The Beekeeper.)
That’s not to say Monkey Man is devoid of meaning, either. No, it doesn’t uproot the genre in the same way as Park Chan-wook’s Oldboyor Michael Sarnoski’s Pig. It does, however, give us a thriller as drenched in Indian culture, politics and mythology as it is by blood and dismembered limbs.
Set in the fictional city of Yatana, Kid (Patel) lives in poverty. He makes a “living” donning a monkey mask and intentionally losing boxing (but also kind of pro wrestling) matches. Kid saves what little money he can with the plans of killing a twisted police chief, Rana (Sikandar Kher), and an equally corrupt religious leader, Baba (Makarand Deshpande). Years prior, Rana murdered Kid’s mother and burned down his hometown under Baba’s direction to expand the figure’s holy empire. By killing these two and every goon at their disposal, Kid seeks to tear out of the heart of Yatana’s criminal underground.
Granted, it can sometimes be difficult to discern some of Monkey Man’s basic plot detail, given its constantly moving and whiplash-inducing cinematography. The technique works exceedingly well where it matters most (e.g., fight scenes and urban B-roll), but distracts from key dialogue. Granted, Monkey Man is a film filled with necessary compromises to work around stolen camera shots and, of course, Patel’s broken hand.
These setbacks could account for much of Monkey Man’s shortcomings, and more often than not, they don’t interrupt the action at hand. What truly hurts the film are formulaic character motivations and grossly repetitive framing. (Take a shot every time the camera follows a character to the ground like an ax splitting wood and you’d black out before the film’s second act.)
Again, it’s hard to hold these issues too much against the film knowing how much of a beast it was to make. Still, one could easily wonder how much more memorable Monkey Man could be if it exercised even slightly more restraint, especially when it comes to the few dialogue-driven scenes.
Granted, most of us didn’t show up for the talking. The film thrives with its low-to-the ground, drag-out fights. A attempted assassination in a bathroom quickly followed by a confrontation with an ax-wielding brothel owner are among Monkey Man’s most riveting sequences. Similarly, the movie’s final two fight scenes offer an equally gory as it is satisfying conclusion, even though the cinematography loses a bit of its luster by that point.
Other than a notch in what we’ll hopefully cascade into a storied career for Patel, Monkey Man doesn’t pack a lot of a staying power. At the very least, however, it’s far from a boring or uninspired revenge thriller. Perhaps a sequel could suture some of the film’s more apparent gashes and give its protagonist a bit more depth. (Hopefully Patel’s hand will have fully healed by then, too.) —Daniel Bokemper
When one thinks of thrillers set in Los Angeles during the 1980s, the first titles that come to mind are neo-noirs like To Live and Die in L.A. and Body Double; action flicks like Lethal Weapon and Die Hard; and sci-fi outings such as The Terminator and Night of the Comet. However, there were hundreds more L.A. thrillers produced and released during the era, ranging from the broadly comedic to genuinely disturbing, and I reviewed them all in my recent BearManor Media book, Neon Nightmares: L.A. Thrillers of the 1980s. (Editor’s note:Flick Attack-approved!)
I grew up watching these films, and I was amazed to discover how many of them still have not been released past VHS and laserdisc in the U.S., 40 years after they first came out. Even in this era of streaming and boutique Blu-rays, plenty of deserving L.A. thrillers remain stuck in analog limbo. Here are five of my favorites:
1. Out of Bounds(1986) Basically a 24-hour extended chase all over Los Angeles, this fast-paced thriller finds farmboy Anthony Michael Hall pursued all over L.A. by drug dealers and crooked cops after he grabs the wrong duffle bag at LAX. An excellent soundtrack featuring The Smiths, The Cult and Siouxsie and the Banshees (the latter of whom appear onscreen) is often cited as the main reason this film remains unreleased on DVD or Blu-ray. The always welcome Jenny Wright makes a quirky love interest and Jeff Kober is scary good as the main baddie.
2. Club Life (1986) Norman Thaddeus Vane, the man behind L.A. thrillers like The Black Room and Frightmare, brought us this cautionary tale, which follows starstruck newbie Tom Parsekian as he navigates the rough-and-tumble world of a glitzy nightclub. Tony Curtis is a hoot as the club’s owner, Michael Parks brings world-weary brilliance to his senior bouncer, and Dee Wallace Stone registers strongly as an over-the-hill singer. Club Life is a smoky time capsule with a genuine feel for the lower depths of showbiz.
3. Kidnapped (1987) Like Vane, director Howard Avedis cut his teeth on a series of L.A. thrillers, including The Teacher and They’re Playing with Fire, before directing this sleazy outing. Genre favorites David Naughton and Barbara Crampton team up to find Crampton’s little sister, who has fallen into a sleazy underworld of pimps and porn. It might not have the punch of Hardcore or Angel, but Kidnapped is nasty enough when it needs to be, with the added bonuses of a chimpanzee sidekick, Jimmie “J.J.” Walker and Savage Streets’ Robert Dryer playing (what else?) a vicious thug.
4. Red Nights (1988) Like Club Life, Red Nights is another cautionary tale of life in the big city, but told with a coldly realistic tone that allows it to stand apart from other Hollywood Boulevard sob stories. An aspiring actor moves to L.A. to play cowboys in the movies and ends up trading shots with real-life scumbags; the film’s downward spiral narrative is a nice change of pace from the usual shoot-’em-up cliches. The only recognizable credits are veteran character actor William Smith and legendary synth band Tangerine Dream, but don’t let that deter you from tracking down this gritty gem.
5. Satan’s Princess (1989) From Walking the Edge to The Banker, Robert Forster starred in a number of L.A. thrillers during the ’80s, but none as trashily entertaining as Satan’s Princess. While investigating a missing persons case, world-weary cop Forster meets up with the titular temptress (French erotic thriller queen Lydie Denier) and all hell breaks loose. Directed by B-movie specialist Bert I. Gordon (Empire of the Ants, The Mad Bomber), this is a late-night cable fave brimming with skin, gore and plenty of WTF moments.
