Category Archives: Body horror

When the Artist Becomes the Art, EVIL Takes Over Their Soul. “Stopmotion” reviewed! (Acorn Medial International / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Stopmotion” Available on Blu-ray!

Living under her arthritis-enfeebled mother’s tremendous stop motion reputation and browbeaten into being the hands of completing her overbearing mother’s last film, Ella Blake can’t find her own voice in the animated art form.  During one already tension filled morning, Ella’s mother has a stroke and falls into a comatose state.  The unfortunate opportunity opens a door for Ella to complete her mother’s final masterpiece on her own as she moves out from the traumatic memories of her home and into a vacant high-rise apartment to be left in occupied solitude, but when a curious and brash little girl finds her mother’s story mundane and offers an alternative, more grotesque story, one which insidiously fascinates with disturbing themes and grisly creativity, Ella finds herself starting afresh, listening to the yarn of a young girl’s chilling vision, whole slowly cracking under the immense pressure of completing a film worth calling her own. 

With the timesaving, cost-efficient computer-generated imagery, many once popular animation techniques have nearly become a lost art in the recent feature film pool.  Stopmotion is one of those dangerously close to extinction animation styles, which has played a pivotal part in some of the most thrilling and magical films in history, such as, but not limited to, the live-action dominion of Desmond Davis’s “Clash of the Titans,” Sam Raimi’s “Evil Dead” films, and Tim Burton’s “Beetlejuice” to the fully animated features of Henry Celick’s “Caroline,” another Burton film in “A Nightmare Before Christmas,” and Phil Tippett’s “Mad God.”  Stopmotion animator and filmmaker Robert Morgan aims to add his entry to the dwindling, yet sustaining for now, artform with his 2023, debut full-length film “Stopmotion” co-written by Morgan and Robin King (“Mnemophrenia”).  The UK film is produced by Alain de la Mata and Christopher Granier-Deferrere under the French production company Blue Light and is presented by the UK’s British Film Institute, or BFI, with IFC Films and Shudder.

In the tragic lead role of spiraling down through pressurized suffering , trying to surface and take a breath from Ella Blake’s domineering mother’s shadow, is Aisling Franciosi, an Irish actress who also had a principal role in the segmented Dracula tale of “The Last Voyage of the Demeter” released the same year.  As Ella Blake, Franciosi plays into the young woman’s meek and submissive behavior as a subservient daughter to her conceited mother (Stella Gonet, “Spencer”).  All the while on the inside, Blake’s bottled voice contains lethal doses of self-destruction, barring her indefinitely inside the mental boundaries of her psyche, and never surfacing between the already emotional scarring and the grief for mother’s authoritarian parenting as Blake herself becomes very much like the armature puppet she manipulates into position for her film, needing that command structure to follow orders.  That need to be creative is so strong within Blake she fabricates another persona splitting soul into a dissociative disorder that takes the yoke and, ultimately, control over her and her project.  And, in some distressing and grim fairytale type of way, the voice recreates a story that parallels Ella’s life with the Ash Man (effects and prosthetic-cladded actor James Swanton, “Host”) chasing down and manipulating a wax puppet version of Ella in a grotesque mirror dynamic between Ella and her mother.  Tethering Ella ever so barely to reality is flexible boyfriend Tom (Tom York) and his flaunting animation corporate head Polly (Therica Wilson-Read, “Suicide Club”) to what’s in front of her rather to the voice inside of her but their truth is far too combative for Ella to stay fastened to a much strong influencing voice that’s far too close to her.   The upcoming “The Beast Within” actress, Caoilinn Springall, rounds out the cast as the little girl of the apartment building. 

As much as I wanted to seep and soak into “Stopmotion’s” one-frame-at-a-time madness, I couldn’t help but to think I’ve seen this story before.   A sort of déjà vu encircles me and hits me squarely in the gut as I lament over the possibility of feeling the same way I felt before with another film.  Then, it struck me like a bolt of lightning that this storyline shares similarities with the 2021, Prano Bailey-Bond film, “Censor.”  Now, I’m not saying “Stopmotion” is a direct carbon copy but follows a familiar pathway, a movie industry outlier forced by life and submersed under the weight to finishing what the heroines have started only to crack in deep obsession.  On a high level, character impetuses that lead to the same conclusion are in stark contrast and Ella Blake’s descent fathoms family trauma and fixation with trying to be an individual and not just a minor component of a bigger, more impressive, machine that overshadows the necessary cog that makes the whole operate.  Coupled with surreal imagery, otherworldly stopmotion animation, and physical effects that’ll make your skin crawl, or melt like wax, “Stopmotion” enlivens an animator filmmaker’s creativity outside the personifying vocation, blending genres and animations to exact a reality bending mania.  Morgan’s fragmented segues evoke an alternate reality that skips the portions where the audiences’ minds might fill in the gaps.  There is no gap filling, only essential, contextual moments, as if Morgan is the puppeteer to his story by arranging the movements one frame at a time reflect Ella’s poignant reminders and dour moments that mold her.

“Stopmotion” animates a living hell.  The Shudder exclusive lands onto a RLJ Entertainment subsidiary UK label, Acorn Media International, Blu-ray release.  The Blu-ray is presented in a widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio encoded with AVC, high definition 1080p, on a BD25.  Though in spartanly stark and gritty-glum set dressings, “Stopmotion’s” grading is on the lighter side of saturation diffusion, held mostly to a shade array of reds, greens, browns, and yellows.  There is numerous isolating, low key-lit scenes concentrated on the framed charactered and engulfing them in darkness but with that, there were no notifiable issues with posterization or banding.  Depth, especially in the stop-motion portion of reality, has spatial length and dimensional delineation, a testament to Morgan’s stop motion animator’s background and experience as some examples of the craft often look flat.  The English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 offers a lossless fidelity through the broodiness of Lola de la Mata’s compositional vocal and violin score, stringing through the surrealistic switch of cerebral crossfire.  Dialogue creates no challenges with a clear and clean presentation, range of effects heighten in animation’s Foley, and, again, depth creates that an enwreathed sound field through the back and side channels.  English subtitles are optionally available.  Special features include an interview with star Aisling Francosi, interview with writer-director Robert Morgan, and a behind-the-scenes featurette.  The Acorn Media release is rated 18 for Strong Bloody Violence and gore, has a runtime of 94 minutes, and, though not listed, played in region A playback so does seem to have at least dual-regional encoding between A and B.  The tangible Blu-ray comes in a standard Blu-ray case with a creepy, head-nesting puppet artwork.  The interior has standard appeal with just the disc inside, pressed with the same front cover art. 

Last Rites: “Stopmotion” depicts a tragic fall but not from grace in what is a more sad and sullen reality, and the escape is a freshly personified hell of one’s own making. 

“Stopmotion” Available on Blu-ray!

Is this EVIL Real or is it a “Deathdream” reviewed! “(Blue Underground / 4K UHD and Blu-ray Combo)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

The Nightmare is Here. “Deathdream” on 4K UHD Blu-ray!

The Brooks family just sat down for dinner before receiving a personal house call by a military commander, conveying the tragic killed in action telegram of their son Andy during a Vietnam War skirmish.  Very early next morning, Andy inexplicably arrives at their doorstep and the whole family is elated with his return and relieved in the military’s gross error about his death.  But something isn’t right with Andy; he isn’t the same affable young man his family and friends knew.  All day, every day Andy sits in his room, gliding back and forth in his rocking chair, won’t eat or drink anything, and has the social personality of a slug.  While his father can’t grasp Andy’s bizarre behavior, his mother defends him, being overjoyed, comforted, and relieved by her son’s safe return.  Anybody who comes close to discovering what Andy has done or has become is preyed upon by Andy’s need for concealment and need for blood. 

If there was ever the quintessential anti-Vietnam War film, Bob Clark’s “Deathdream” is it.  The 1974, Alan Ormsby (“Cat People,” “The Substitute”) scribed grindhouse classic introduces combat shock to audiences through a macabre and ghoulish lens as the U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War came to an official end in 1973.  Before becoming one of the holidays’ household names with “A Christmas Story” and “Black Christmas,” Bob Clark sat in what would be one of his first films as a director, a film that wasn’t sold in taking just one title having also been bestowed “Dead of Night,” “The Veteran,” “Night Walk,” and “It Came from the Grave.”  The U.S.-based shot and crewed feature, filmed in and around Brooksville, Florida, is a production of Quadrant Films and Impact Films with United Kingdom producers Gerald Flint-Shipman, Peter James (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”), and Geoffrey Nethercott (“Blue Blood”) with John Trent and Bob Clark coproducing.  

For the ambiguous terror of “Deathdream” to work without baffling audiences to a nonsensical death, the cast had to really give it their all and not only that but also sell the deteriorating dynamics of an American nuclear family when the son returns home strangely different from then when he left for war.   The debut film of Richard Backus, playing the reclusive and uncharacteristic Andy who has returned home from the battlefield, is complimented by the heart-wrenching performances miseries of his onscreen parents in John Marley (“The Dead Are Alive!”), as the distraught father over Andy’s peculiar behavior, and Lynn Carlin (“Superstition”), as the denialist mother who can’t or won’t see the issues with Andy, the gift of her little boy returning home. Not only does Andy’s return ignite a slow-burning divisive wedge between parents and child but it also exposes pre-war schisms that were long established years ago.  We’re initially introduced the family sitting around the dinner table filled with compassion, hope, and happiness but Andy’s return kicks the wasp’s nest and we can see their true nature.  The father is a crotchety, dogged man who can’t connect with a more sensitive son and the mother spoils his only boy the point where Andy must enlist himself voluntarily to prove something to toward his father’s disappointment.  Then, there’s sister Cathy.  Poor sister Cathy, the gentle, positive, and sweet daughter who is all buy nearly forgotten by her parents as they push her out of the way by her father stating to mind her own business or is exclaimed in so many words of her little worth in compared to her brother by her mother.  Yet, Cathy, played softly and attractively by Alan Ormsby’s then wife, Anya Ormsby (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”), continues a cool and level head about her shoulders as the only true family member willing to give Andy time, to let him be himself, while acclimating back into society, let alone his family.  However, the family’s opposing forces is ultimately what destroys them in conjunction with Andy’s terrible, morbid secret.  Henderson Forsythe, Jane Daly, Arthur Anderson, Michael Mazes, and David Gawlikowski fill out the cast.

All of the costly signs of shell shock and PTSD are present within the context of “Deathdream,” blanketed under a sensationalized, representational guise, but the film’s cinematic façade of Tom Savini’s rot and decay special effects and the appalling imagery of living death doesn’t alleviate or even dilute the horror of the revenant in the actual disorder.  In fact, it pales in comparison if you ruminate on it for a while.  Andy’s withdrawn from the likes of acquaintances, friends, and family alike and is severely impassive at signs of cordiality.  Director Bob Clark emphasizes the effect even further in one scene where a World War II veteran anecdotally describes in nonchalant detail the death of a brother in arms and this flashes images in Andy’s mind of him and his friend’s own mortal wounds in the jungles of Nam, sending the young man into a minor fight or flight moment, two of the associated signs of shell shock:  fight and flight.  Within the sensationalized horror context, Andy requires blood to keep his body from decaying, like a reanimated corpse trying to hang on a little long before his skin and muscle tissue just seep and ooze off, and in one scene of attack, Andy shoots up his victim’s blood with a hypodermic needle in a reminiscent drug addiction scene of shooting up narcotics right into the vein of one’s arm, an experience afflicted on many PTSD vets. Ormsby’s script might be specific in the anti-Vietnam War propaganda but is not so detailed in the narrative’s whys and wherefores as much of Andy’s unlikely, and undead, return to his family falls into that inexplicable, ambiguous, “Twilight Zone,” and “Tales from the Crypt” category to foster a greater cloud of mysticism and darkness around the story, one in which has a hopeful, desperate mother conjure will and desire in order to see her son come home again.

In continuing to upgrade their catalogue to the best possible format currently available, “Blue Underground” pulls an Andy and returns “Deathdream” from the dead, heading home to the nearest ultra high-definition player. The 2-disc 4K Ultra HD and Blu-ray combo set arrives with a brand-new restoration, scanned in 4K 16-bit from the 35mm negative with Dolby Vision HDR in honor of its 50th anniversary. The UHD is HVEC encoded onto a 66GB Blu-ray with 2160p resolution while the Blu-ray is AVC encoded, 1080p resolution, on a BD50, both presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. A grainy 35mm print is ingrained with superior color saturation and understanding of how to manage the perceptibility of image. Blue Underground’s previous restorations show a spectrum, step-by-step improvement to get to where the film is today in a higher, upgraded format. “Deathdream” can be a very dark film at times and often, but this release eliminates speculation of events without collapsing the contrast integrity, providing a clear and concise image for its spot in history. Blu-ray is a step down albeit only minorly and with some color stability shimmer, more notably in the finale with a less than standardized and wear-showing deleted scene that is integrated back into the story. A single, English DTS-HD master audio mono track is available. The lossless option doesn’t need any more or any less to effectively be the overlaid track. Distinction runs through the single channel with managed assurances that dialogue, ambience, and soundtrack divide and conquer their respective uniquities. English SDH, Spanish, and French subtitles are available. Due to space on 4K UHD disc, all of the package’s special features are encoded onto the standard Blu-ray. The UHD Blu-ray includes an archival commentary from director Bob Clark, a commentary by writer Alan Ormsby, and a brand-new commentary with a pair of film historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson, plus the theatrical trailer. All that and a slew of previously recorded content, including a recollection featurette with Alan Ormsby and star Anya Liffey (Ormsby), an interview with composter Carl Zittrer Notes for A Homecoming, an interview with production manager John “Bud” Cardos Flying Down to Brooksville, an interview with star Richard Backus Deathdreaming, an interview with Tom Savini regarding his early years in special effects, a screen test of the original Andy actor Gary Swanson, an alternate opening title sequence, Alan Ormsby’s student film, theatrical trailer and still galleries. The only other new content is an interview with the original Andy actor Gary Swanson The First Andy. The same illustrated cover art composite from the 2017 Blue Underground Blu-ray is recycled for the 4K UHD Blu-ray with tactile elements of a raised title and taglines on the cardboard slipcover. The primary art also resides on the black UHD Amary but the reverse side has retro traits of the film’s starkly contrasted yellow and blue poster art and the “Dead of Night” title to which, once again, is preferrable for me to have diverging slipcover and case cover arts. The two discs reside on their respective sides of the interior with the 4K UHD pressed with the illustrated art and the Blu-ray going contrarily retro like the reverse cover art. There are no loose insert materials. With an 88-minute runtime, Blue Underground release comes region free and is rated R.

Last Rites: Andy didn’t destroy his family. He was only the last straw, a catalyst that tipped the boat over into a sea of slowly brewing tempest. Doesn’t help that he was also decaying right before their eyes as the embodiment of walking death and looked good doing it too with the help from Blue Underground’s sharp-edged and solidly sound 4K upgrade.

The Nightmare is Here. “Deathdream” on 4K UHD Blu-ray!

The 90’s Played Videotapes by a Different Set of EVIL Rules. “V/H/S/94” reviewed! (Acorn Media International / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

V/H/S/94 Blu-ray Can be Purchased Here!

A police S.W.A.T. team raid a large warehouse where suspected drug storage and trafficking is being conducted.  Tagging along a camera man for code of conduct review, what the team discovers inside is more alarming than a stash of street narcotics.  The nearly empty warehouse is filled with gruesomely recorded VHS tapes, snowy television sets in every room, and recently deceased bodies with their eyes plucked from their heads.  As the investigation frantically continues through the labyrinth corridors that turns the capture and arrest mission into a mission of escape, the pre-recorded tapes they come across show vivid, nightmare-fueling horrors, including footage of a sewer-dwelling rat man, a near empty funeral home on a dark-and-story night, inhuman surgeries joining man and machine, and a militia preparing themselves to unleash true evil onto the government establishment.  What the officers see can’t be unseen as analog madness ensues them spurred by the motivations of a deadly cult.

The fourth installment of the David Bruckner and Brad Miska created analog-influenced V/H/S horror anthology.  Known as V/H/S/94, as in 1994 to mark the period of social and cultural influence, six new directors take the short movie helm in a new line of videotape terror.  “Night’s End” director Jennifer Reeder tackles the wraparound story “Holy Hell” that fills in between and shepherds in four frightening tales with “Watcher’s” Chloe Okunols “Storm Drain,” “V/H/S/2’s Simon Barrett’s “The Empty Wake,” “May the Devil Take You’s” Timo Tjahjanto’s “The Subject,” and “Lowlife’s” Ryan Prows’ “Terror.”  “Psycho Gorman” and “Manborg” filmmaker Steven Kostanski also directs a mini-pseudo infomercial entitled “The Veggie Masher.”  Together, the filmmakers for a new lot of under-the-radar talent to showcase an eclectic blend of 90’s set scary stories with Josh Goldboom, Kurtis David harder, and Brad Miska producing, Studio 71, Cinepocalypse Productions, and Hangar 18 Media as the production credits, and Bloody Disgusting and Raven Banner Entertainment presenting the production.

With any type of anthology, a variety of roles are laid out for different scenarios.  From newscasters (Anna Hopkins, “Tin Can”) and cameramen (Anthony Christian Potenza, “Bad Dreams”) to body-transfiguring mad scientists (Budi Ross), to greenhorn funeral home attendants (Kyal Legend), “V/H/S/94 reaches into the far corners of world while also breeding home grown terror right into suburban America.  Each episode develops and nurtures layered characters with fast-setting concrete, quickly building who and what they are in a matter of minutes to which some full-length features have to build in a whole act or in all three acts.  The writing of and the colorful depiction of each character sets the tone for the rest of short and whether the short will be a success hit or not.  An example of this would be in Timo Tjahjanto’s “The Subject” with The Creator, played renationalized and crazy by Budi Ross.  An eccentric acute accent in Ross’s Creator apexes the overall expectation of a mad scientist and in that there is an understanding of what’s coming while there’s still a simultaneous shroud of mystery of how batshit crazy things can really become. The episode that didn’t quite flesh out enough, in character and in story, was the wraparound “Hell Hole” segment that sees a S.W.A.T. team (Kimmy Choi, Nicholette Pearse, Dru Viergever, Thomas Mitchell) and ride-a-long cameraman (Kevin P. Gabel) storm a suspected drug warehouse and find nothing but death and VHS.  Tremendous pandemonium as the team charging into the multi-layered complex is roughly cleaved to not smoothly segue in-and-out with the intercut VHS episodes that also hinder the characters from really being built upon to relate any interest in them.  “Holy Hell’s” climatic reveal has little weight to then stand on without that much needed seething of every detailed bubble that pops in between the short films.  However, the wraparound story doesn’t snuff out the rest of eye-gluing terror you’re witnessing with solid, edge-of-your-seat performances from Donny Alamsyah, Tim Campbell, Brian Paul, Conor Sweeney, Devin Chin-Cheong, Juan Blone Subiantoro, Christian Lloyd, Cameron Kneteman, Steven McCarthy, Brenand McMurtry-Howlett, Slavic Rogozine, and Daniel Willston.

Zombies, cults, body horror, vampires, subterranean creatures, and much more are the selected subgenres that invade insidiously into our visual receptors and straight down to shake and scare stiff our stable core, each one idiosyncratically crafted and tailored by the filmmakers tastes to deliver a unique tale under the guise of those beautiful VHS artefacts.  Whether ran through a VHS recorder or filters are applied, each era-idolized short has a distinct visual approach and feel how the 1990s tape decks presented the goods that can be saturated in horizontal noise strips, tracking lines, and image ghosting.  Granted, and likely subjectively by yours truly, some shorts are better than others with a narrative outline and in special effects.  “Holy Hell” doesn’t let time to breath and let the dust setting to effectively lay in fear and frights because of the constant cacophony of the S.W.A.T. team’s frantic ambling through the complex, seeing each disturbing scene as if breezing through a museum and glimpsing at the exhibits.  I’m fully aware of the short film time crunch Reeder was under but breakneck pacing didn’t have time to elicit any type of reaction or setup a story.  “The Empty Wake,” “The Subject,” and “Terror,” reel in and piece together all the components of their tales and find room to make them thriller and terrifying.  Barrett’s is one of the simplest yet most anxiety-riddled shorts to come out of the V/H/S anthology run, creating a couped up Funeral home atmosphere, the background threat of a tornado out of the story night, and a coffin that goes bump-bump with a sole wake service attendant on the edge of fright for fear of what’s inside trying to get out.  Ryan Prows puts a spin on the whole vampire trope by never mentioning the creature as the living dead bloodsucker held captive by a radical, ring-wing militia under the influence of its power to destroy.  Instead, the creature is just plain and pure evil that, as the militia men find out by the flaws in themselves, can’t be contained.

Acorn Media, the United Kingdom subsidiary label of RLJ Entertainment, releases the Shudder exclusive anthology on Blu-ray home video.  THE AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50 of “V/H/S/64” goes by the oxymoronic details in the videotape artefacts.  Through various VHS filters and VHS recording deck converter, the widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio image is purposefully distorted, worn, and in standard definition to meet the standards of the V/H/S series, providing an anomalous analog outer shell so if you’re expect fine delineation, natural skin tones, or any clear details of any sorts, then the V/H/S franchise is not for you.  For the rest of us, “’94” parades the paltry resolution like gold in a true celebratory style, embracing the chroma spectrum for a maximum retro throwback.  However, the color bands on a couple shorts appear too vibrant, creeping more into digital age with flusher hues rather than tape degraded coloring.  The English and Indian language tracks are ran through a lossless DTS-HD 5.1 surround sound mix that offers punchy kbps decoding filtering through the appropriate side and back channels and right into your ears. The sonic palette has great depth and range in the midst of the crackling and warp-pops of damaged tape. Dialogue is clean, clear, and concise and there’s synched-well, error-free English subtitles for “The Subject.” Bonus features include a behind-the-scenes featurette with the directors speaking about how they were approached and crafted each of their respective shorts, a panel interview at the San Diego Comic Con, deleted and extended scenes, the special effects discussed by Patrick Magee, a quick glimpse at “The Wake’s” visual effects piece to the pie, the full-length Steven Kostanski “Veggie Masher” commercial, behind-the-scenes images, and Hail Raatma!, a special look at the sewer-dwelling creature. There are also two commentaries: a feature-length commentary track with the filmmakers and producers hosted by The Boo Crew and a second commentary track on “The Empty Wake” with writer-director Simon Barrett. There is no mid-credit or after-credit stingers. Sheathed inside a thicker UK Blu-ray casing is the “V/H/S/94” blocky cover art of a face screaming while tape emerges from their mouth and eyes. Inside lies bare with no insert but the disc art is different with a snow-static tube televisions outlining a techno-skull. With PAL encoded playback, the Acorn Media Blu-ray comes region free (tested) despite not proclaiming so on the back cover. The UK certified 18 releases has a runtime of approx. 104 minutes.

Last Rites: If anthologies get your horror rocks off, the “V/H/S” franchise continues to disturb, disgust, and dread with new filmmakers, new stories, and new horrors, but with the same amount of thirst-quenching blood shot on video!

V/H/S/94 Blu-ray Can be Purchased Here!

An Odyssey through the Phantasmagoria EVIL. “Moon Garden” reviewed! (Oscilloscope Laboratories / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Take a Stroll Through the “Moon Garden” on Blu-ray

Five-year-old Emma is caught in the middle of her beleaguered parent’s marital strife.  When Emma witnesses one particular heated and nasty argument between mom and dad, she flees to escape the anger only to slip and fall down the stairs, hitting her head that puts her into a comatose state.  She awakes lost, confused, and consumed in an industrialized gray zone, loomed over by strange land’s dark gloom and also curious wonderment that both frighten and amuses her.  As Emma looks from the inside out, seeing her parents come together from the struggles to cope and worriment surrounding her comatose body, the young girl is determined to make it back to her parents by trekking through the bizarre land, but a menacing, chattering being feeding off her fear and tears pursues her and she has to rely on the amiable ambivalence of unique strangers that inhabit this world to help her escape the nightmare and return home.

Cut with relatable bleak themes of family dysfunction, Ohio-born filmmaker Ryan Stevens Harris undertakes fantasy rarely seen in this day and age of computer visuals and special effects, probably not since “Labyrinth” or “The Never Ending Story” of the 1980s.  Stevens, chiefly an editor in the movie industry with credits ranging from indies like “What’s Eating Todd?” to big-budget blockbusters like Roland Emmerich’s “Moonfall,” writes and directs “Moon Garden,” a wayfaring grim fairytale with visual ferocity in a practical DIY-fashion and without major studio help.  The 2022 fantasy envelopes elements of difficult navigation surrounding nuclear family problems through the quivery, unguarded eyes and immense imagination of a very young child still developing those rationality and interpretation skills to make it all make sense.  Based off Harris’s proof-of-concept 13-minute short film “Every Dream is a Child with Teeth,” “Moon Garden” is a production of Harris’s Fire Trial Pictures and is self-produced alongside Fire Trail Picture’s co-founded John Michael Elfers and wife, Colleen.

“Moon Garden” is truly a family affair with not just the husband-and-wife collaboration behind the camera but also the couple’s young daughter, Haven Lee Harris, at the forefront as the enchanted young Alice in Wonderland-esque wanderer named Emma.  Haven, who also starred in the “Every Dream is a Child with Teeth” short,” fully embraces Emma’s forming schism between her parents and being engulfed by an intimidating atmosphere that’s often bursting with melancholy and acrimony, a credit to the father-director who can turn the darkness to light by making behind-the-scenes an engagingly fun atmosphere for his impressionable, yet talented, daughter to thrive as an untrained actor in her debut performance.  As Emma travels through the eclectic settings of sewers and steam pipes, dilapidated houses, swampy overgrowth, and towering observatories, she comes across equally eclectic figment inhabitants that help her, a hammering string musician (Phillip E. Walker, “13 Mysteries”), a sullen groom (Timothy Lee DePriest, (“BnB HELL”), a budding mud witch (Angelica Ulloa, “Gnome Alone”), and a lonely Princess (Maria Olsen, “Vile”), but not all seek the wellbeing of Emma as a haunting levitating and sinister pursuer (Morgana Ignis, “Satanic Hispanics”), garbed in inspired militarism and a void where only sharp, chattering teeth makeup it’s face.  Each character is bred out of Emma’s emotional states brought to fruition by her extensive imagination, correlated by her playing with resembling toys before her accident.  Mom and dad are played by Augie Duke (“The Badger Game”) and Brionne Davis (“Mom and Dad”) for the first act and through flasbacks of the second and third.  The parents inadvertently inject sorrow into the heart of their daughter caught in the middle of the martial affliction.  Duke saturates leadenly into the mother’s depression with poignancy and potency, fueled by Davis’s uncompassionate workaholic for the father, and this sparks the tension that requires a forced happy family face around Emma whose brimming at the edge of her imagination for a better existence.  Filling in the cast gaps are Téa Mckay and Emily Meister. 

If Phil Tippett directed a movie from a script by Lewis Carroll, “Moon Garden” would be the outcome.  Pure imagination and creativity ignite a new world to travel down toward the rabbit hole, utilizing a series of practical techniques to show how grotesquely and beautifully grandiose this world can be erected and the odd characters can come alive all without breaking the bank.  With any abstract art, grasping concepts and correlating visual expressions can be difficult but with “Moon Garden” there’s a sense of celebration for movie magic.  Between detailed miniatures, visual compositing, manipulative time and camera techniques, practical special effects, etc., Ryan Stevens Harris promenades the audience through the different levels, stages, and exhibits of what is a carefully curated museum of ingenuous imagination, which sounds like something Willy Wonka would melody about, and does so while tapping into our own fears as not only having once been children ourselves with vivid imaginations looming in ever crevice of our minds but also in us lucky enough to be parents as Harris interposes clips of Emma peering in reverse through the looking glass, into reality, to see her parents reformulating a bond through the muck of grief, worry, and love for their child in what is a parents’ worst nightmare to experience.  “Moon Garden” can be intense and scary at times but certainly could be kid friendly and empowering for little tykes afraid to take on the daunting outside world or the inside of uncertainty. 

Our first venture into an Oscilloscope Laboratories release is anything but paramnesia. “Moon Garden” arrives onto an AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, 50-gigabyte Blu-ray transferred and processed from the original 35mm print, as Fire Trial Films is a 35mm production company, and presented in a widescreen 2.39:1 aspect ratio. Having scored age-worn film stock, Harris achieves some unusually neat prints that saturate the colors differently than if the stock was in brand new, pristine condition. An ingrained darkness from the stock adds a pinch of otherworldly tincture that accentuate the already overwhelming serrated slumberland atmospherics coupled with a filmy layer of good-clean grain. Primary colors don’t often appear like primary due to the aged film stock but pop in distinct crush, nonetheless. Emma’s unconscious dimensional detour is full of pocket voids, shadowy symmetrical shapes, and dreamy in exact detail on all accounts without being empyrean or wistfully. The English language DTS-HD 5.1 master audio and the film’s original uncompressed stereo 2.0. The lossless surround sound mix options to deliver the identical audio measures in comparison the uncompressed audio while also slinking through the side and back channels for full-bodied immersion into Emma’s tribulating trek back home. Dialogue comes through exceedingly well-enough albeit the multi-faceted improved industrial soundtrack sneaks in staggering oversteps at times. Speaking of the soundtrack, an original score by composer Michael Deragon, the transitional tunes, melodies, discordances, and synths are just a taste of the eclectic, haunting sounds that navigate Emma’s journey and the elegant, melancholic, and even comforting lullabies by Augie Duke as the mother bring a sort of peace and tranquility that resets the intensity and fear of the child in peril. The chattering teeth, though comically inclined to an extent, are especially effective as a looming, omnipresent pursuant. Optional English subtitles are available. Special features on the Blu-ray include a making of “Moon Garden” featurette that lets director Ryan Stevens Harris be giddy-as-school boy proud to show off and explain the how-tos of his masterclass piece of creativity as well as to dote on his sweet daughter Haven, Harris’s 12-minute proof-of-concept short film “Every Dream is a Child with Teeth,” a single deleted scene, and the theatrical trailer. Oscilloscope’s Blu-ray comes in a clear Amaray case with a what looks almost to be an innominate water-colored cover art composition, with gothic overtures, of a few characters with the reverse side bathed in a blue landscape setting that Emma crosses which is shown in the film. The disc art is curiously plain with the Oscilloscope Laboratories logo and the title “Moon Garden” above it. The not rated Blu-ray comes region free and with a 93-minute runtime.

Last Rites: Ever since post-credits, The M Machine’s Moon Song and Promise of a Rose Garden has regained ground in my mind and it’s a very fitting pair of tracks not only for their keyword titles but also for its industrial beats and unconventional sonority structures similar to the cadence of the deep space wandering that is “Moon Garden” as visually the imagery confounds the senses and surrealism takes hold of us as this sweet and innocent little girl confronts alone a world much bigger than anything than we could ever imagine, and only she can pull herself through while the discordant parents can only be a unifying beacon of light and hope. Highly recommended.

Take a Stroll Through the “Moon Garden” on Blu-ray

Re-Electrifying a Dead Cop to Stop EVIL! “The Blue Jean Monster” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Click Here to Purchase “The Blue Jean Monster” available on Blu-ray!

Soon-to-be first-time dad Tsu Hsiang can’t wait to meet his son.  Often times, his cop vocation intrudes on being there for his wife during her pregnancy as his torn between work and family, trying to be a good man in both regards, but when a tip comes through of a suspected bank robbery, Hsiang can’t neglect his duty and pursues the thieves in a high speed and gun-blazing chase that ends in his death as a construction site pile of steel rebar crushes him during the arrest.  His corpse left under the rebar overnight, a storm causes a transformer to fall on top of him and a cat providing a mystical lifeforce.  The electrical currents course through his dead body, reanimating him with the superhuman strength and invulnerable to pain, but with a cost as Tsiang is slowly rotting away, unable to heal or enjoy any of his senses.  Tsiang also has to recharge his body with electrical volts direct to body in order to continue being reanimated.  With time running out, the cop’s two goals are to meet his unborn child and to capture the gang responsible for him becoming an undead monster. 

While “The Blue Jean Monster” is not the eminent representation of comedy-action with elements of science fictional horror to come out of the Hong Kong movie industry, the early 90’s Category III film does rank high marshalling an entertaining “Dead Heat” (1988) interpretation for Eastern audiences.  The sophomore film of director Ivan Lai, aka Kai-Ming Lai, (“Daughter of Darkness,” “The Peeping Tom”) and the last script credit for Kam-Hung Ng emerges as a bucket list imbroglio of the inexplicable mysticisms at play as well as the good die young but win in the end.  The Jonathan Chow (“Haunted Jail House”) produced film is a coproduction of Golden Harvest Films, Diagonal Pictures, and Paragon Films. 

Not just a mindless killing machine resurrected like an electrified phoenix for revenge and murderous rout, Tsu Hsiang’s rebirth out of death arouses complications around fleeting special moments.  Playing exactly his profile of a mid-30-year-old is the late “Her Vengeance” and “The Killer” actor Fui-on Shing as a cop torn between life and death, literally.  Struggling to comprehend what’s happened to him, Tsu Hsiang has no time to explore the root cause; instead, Hsiang instantly moves forward, learning on the fly, his newfound postmortem powers of invulnerability, immense strength, and to be exasperated right into a pale-eyed version of the angry Hulk.  Shing’s duality on levity and fierce cleaves “The Blue Jean Monster” into its well-intended multifaceted of genres with soft buttery ease.  Shing’s square jaw and large frame doesn’t quell the lighter touch he brings an even softer side to Tsu Hsiang with his intake of Power Steering (Wai-Kit Tse, “Mr. Vampire 1992”), a street nickname for a former hooligan took under Hsiang’s wing after killing his father, in a supposed criminal altercation gone awry.  Power Steering best friend Gucci (“Gloria Yip, “Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky”) becomes the primary target for the gang as she inadvertently becomes a hostage and winds up with the thieves’ hard stolen loot.  The circular, trifold connection between Hsiang, the troublesome young acquaintances, and the gang, helmed by Japanese actor Jun Kunimura (“Audition”) creates double edged complications Hsiang has to juggle and manage while being undead and a soon-to-be father.  Mei-yee Wu, Bei-Dak Lai, and “Mr. Vampire’s” Siu-Fung Wong playing Fui-on Shing’s wife Chu along with “Sex and Zen” star Amy Yip as the lustfully bosomed Death Ray, a gay man conversion therapy seductress, fill out the cast. 

The 1991 film has fast-paced action, politically incorrect humor, and spectacular physical and hand-drawn visual effects.   “The Blue Jean Monster” relied heavily on the skill of the cast and crew to elevate a staggering, fast-and-loose story that barely bridges gaps of its presaged plot holes.  There’s also some fast-and-loose editing slips that expose oversights, such as reused unmasking scene of Jun Kunimura’s head robber and showing five members of a five-member gang huddled behind a flipped van in a scene that was supposed to be sans Kunimura as his character was chasing after Gucci and the money through a construction zone.  Yet, “The Blue Jean Monster” is too enjoyable, too funny, and too drop-dead neat that any and all flaws can be written off as negligible.  Heedless humor encapsulates an antiquated way of thinking that shapes “The Blue Jean Monster” into a time bygone novelty.  When Tsu and Power Steering are suspected gay lovers, as they’re physically intertwined in electrocution to recharge Tsu undeadness, and AIDs becomes the center of the joke, casually tossed in a handful of times even by the brief portrayal of two colorfully sweater-wearing, feminine-displayed men wanting nothing to do with Tsu and Power Steering’s misperceived actions for fear of the deadly virus.  That just epitomizes the slapstick wackiness this not typical but warranted Cat III feature that transfixes with a lot of borderline insensitive satire kneaded into the modish action and special effects of every other Hong Kong film in a saturated market. 

“The Blue Jean Monster” takes over United States and North America courtesy of the UK distributor 88 Films, through MVD Visual from the Fortune Star Media Limited catalogue, with a new AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, Blu-ray.  The BD50 comes top of the line within the limits of the format with a bitrate decoding the original aspect ratioed widescreen 1.85:1 presented and newly restored 2K scanned film an average of at or just under 35Mbps.  Nearly being a non-issue coinciding with a pristine original print, the dual layer disc offers plenty of breathing room to display “The Blue Jean Monster’s’ range of motion, sufferable color palette, painted composite effects, and masterstrokes in lighting a fast-paced pressing without the blight of artefacts.  A few darker scenes are not as rich because of compositional effects but still render significantly with detail under a slightly more penetrating grain.  The overall grain naturally infuses with the 35mm print and translates nicely to a transferred digital scan.   The original, uncompressed Cantonese LPCM 2.0 mono track is the sole offering that, in truth, is all this comical, cosmic caper needs with agreeable action Foley and ambience and some looney absurdity tacked on for good measure.  None of the assortment ever sounds pressed and squished through the single channel suggesting a pretty clean, well-kempt sound design from over the years.  ADR dialogue favors less spatial position but that’s expected with 90’s Hong Kong cinema and is also well-preserved in its fidelity with a clear and damage free recording.  English subtitles are optionally available.  This special edition includes a new interview with assistant director Sam Leong Man Made Monster, the original Hong Kong trailer, and image gallery.  The limited-edition set comes with reflective and glistening slipcase sheathing the same but lusterless composite illustration, artwork created by James Neal.  Inside the green Amaray Blu-ray case, the reverse side of the cover art sports the original Hong Kong one sheet illustration stretching both ends, inferring nearly all the action and characters in the story, along with a doubled-sided cardboard poster of the reversible cover art.  The not rated release comes region locked on A and B and has a runtime of 96 minutes.

Last Rites: If a fan of “Dead Heat,” “The Blue Jean Monster” can prolong the action-caffeinated, narcotized high with supercharged unrest, necropsy humor, and the walking, talking, inexplicable undead in another stellar package and quality release from 88 Films!

Click Here to Purchase “The Blue Jean Monster” available on Blu-ray!