Category Archives: comedy

Gaudy, Superfluous EVIL Sits in Your Living Room and Destroys Your Family. “The Coffee Table” reviewed! (Cinephobia Releasing / DVD)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Coffee Table” Would Look Good in Your Living Room! Purchase It Here Today!

Jesús and Maria are new parents with a beautiful baby boy.  Maria has been eager for a baby and sent through several medical treatment for the bundle of joy while Jesús continuous rides the fence about being a father.  When the baby arrives, the boy becomes a source of usually one-sided bickering and jabbing contention as Maria feels Jesús could be a better father to their newborn son.  When they move into a new apartment, they find themselves in a furniture store looking at a gaudy glass coffee table Maria can’t stand the sight of, but Jesús very much can’t live without.  While Maria steps out to shop for an upcoming luncheon with Jesús’s brother and young girlfriend, Jesús briefly stops assembling the table to take care of the baby until a tragic accident happens that reshapes everything and everyone Jesús cares about, and impels him to bottle in the tragedy, hiding it in extreme guilt from his wife and guests, as he struggles to find the right moment to relieve his soul. 

Marriage is hard.  Parenting is even harder.  Choosing a coffee table should be a delicious piece of decision-making cake but for director Caye Casas choosing living room décor can be deadly.  The “Killing God” director follow up his debut feature with the 2022 released domestic disturbing comedy-horror “La Mesita Del Comedor,” aka “The Coffee Table.”   Casas cowrites the film with Cristina Borobla, her first screenwriting credit but not her first collaborative effort working with the director as the vocational Art Director has been involved in Cases’s other works, such as “Killing God,” his 2017 short “RIP,” and amongst others.  Maria José Serra (“Amigo Invisible”) and Norbert Llaràs (“Killing God,” “The Perfect Witness”) put their producer café mugs onto “The Coffee Table” with the hailing from Spain production companies La Charito Films, Alhena Production, and Apocalipsis Producciones. 

Much of “The Coffee Table” is set inside the tiny, newly moved into apartment of Jesús and Maria who even though rag on each other’s opinions and one of them don’t necessarily favor being a parent, deep down the unlikely pair do have a strong love attraction that swims upstream against the repelling.  In the roles of Jesús and Maria are David Pareja, whose worked with Casas inner circle before with “Killing God,” and Estefanía de los Santos with an unforgettable, characteristic raspy voice that magnifies the role tenfold.  Both Pareja and de los Santos are comedically bred with a long list of hilarious Spanish features to prep them to see the gut-punching, black humor of what’s to come in “The Coffee Table.”  Frankly, there’s nothing negatively to report in Pareja and de los Santo’s flawless, funny, and unfortunate family dysfunctional performances surrounding their love-hate relationship and the knot of culpability and the bliss ignorance contrast that’s delineated between them.  Floating into the mix of repressiveness are side stories that become assimilated by the untold tragedy, such as the neighbor’s daughter (Gala Flores) with an intense belief Jesús loves her, the smarmy coffee table salesman (Eduardo Antuña, “Killing God”) who also have an interest in Jesús, and Jesús’s brother Carlos (Josep Maria Riera, “RIP”) and his barely 18-year-old girlfriend (Claudia Riera, “The Communion Girl”) being ribbed for their own odd couple relationship and giving a surprise announcement of their own. 

Though a comedy and a horror, I didn’t find “The Coffee Table” all that funny but more so quirky, outrageously bold, and shockingly hard-hitting instead.  Horror, definitely without a doubt, comes through but not in a typical to be scared or to exact fear way with any of the conventional themes to support its harrowing weight.  The horror that uncoils is every parent’s worst scenario, the underlying nightmare that grabs the soul and squeezes until every drop of anxiety is wrung out of our wet bag of bones and meat.  The incident itself is gnarly and unspeakable but the post-trauma slithers in a nasty case of guilty conscious, shame, and fear that can freeze someone to the spot to where they clam up, sweat profusely, stomach twisted, and have self-harming thoughts from the conjoined cause and effect of having to tell your partner the most terrible of news and see their composure, their affection flush away in a blink of an eye.  Casas able to string along the aftermath to extract a feature length film without it ever approaching critically forced or farfetched, adding on and expanding upon the luncheon or Jesús’s wiggling through painfully with excuses on why Maria should leave the baby sleeping peacefully in their room.  The passively aggressive sparring atmosphere quickly turns into colossal tension and hopelessness through the mechanism of dark black comedy.  As a parent myself, “The Coffee Table” evokes great sadness and mental strife of the situational possibility, the greatest horror of all time.    

The cruel film by Caye Casas arrives onto a Cinephobia Releasing DVD. The MPEG2 encoded, upscaled 720p, DVD5 comes in at being the eleventh release for the Philadelphia based, eclectic independent film distributor. And, boy, is it a doozy. For “The Coffee Table’s” image, not the two, artificially gilded naked women holding an oval shape, unbreakable pane of glass, the feature’s picture quality renders about as good as any single layer capacity unit can decode in a digital age with modest details, muted hues, hard lit, and a good amount of spectrum banding in the darker areas. Not to fret, however, as there’s plenty to discern with a film that isn’t reliant on details but more reliant on hitting you wear it hurts, heavyheartedly. The Spanish language Dolby Digital 5.1 uses a lossy compression that, again, suitable to the movie’s means of conveying a contortioned, ruthless story defining the very meaning of a no way-out, no-win situation. Dialogue really is key for this type of narrative to work and progress and does come through fine without an ounce of earshot hinderance. Also, not that type of film that provides a breadth of range or depth as much of the layers express in a very near arrangement, as expected in a concentrated setting of Jesús and Maria’s apartment home. English subtitles are optionally available, and they synch up and pace well with only one noticeable grammatical error. Not much in the way of special features as only Cinephobia Releasing trailers fill that spot and there is not mid or end credits scene. The 90-minute film’s DVD release comes not rated and has region 1 playback. Other regions are untested, and the back cover does not state the official region playback capacity.

Last Rites: Caye Casas and Cinephobia Releasing has the cajónes to not table this wonderfully bleak black comedy-horror from reaching audiences far and wide. “The Coffee Table” is a painful reminder of just how fragile life can be, much like a cheapy made piece of tawdry decor from China.

“The Coffee Table” Would Look Good in Your Living Room! Purchase It Here Today!

A Fiasco of EVIL When Jobs Collide! “Punto Rojo” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Punto Rojo” on MVD Visual Blu-ray!

Diego, an imperial member of a hooligan gang dedicated to a fútbol club, sits and waits in a car in the middle of nowhere and listening in on a radio quiz show about his club’s sport where contestants can win $200,000 if they answer the questions correctly.  Having more knowledge than any run-of-the-mill caller, Diego rings up the radio station and passes easily to the next round, providing him a chance to win the jackpot once he passes the two more rounds he’ll be called upon to answer later in the day.  After hanging up, a man falls from the sky and lands dead on the hood of his car, a plane crashes in the distance, and a combat ready agent parachutes down and points a gun directly at him.  When brought around to his trunk, a tied-up man lies inside seemingly knowing the armed agent.  Two illegitimate jobs collide and go sideways when one faction underestimates the other in a fiery dance of fists, bullets, and explosions between hooligans, gangers, and law enforcement. 

A pulpy crime comedy-thriller tapped from the same snappy, vicious vein as such film as Guy Ritchie’s “Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, David Fincher’s “Fight Club,” and Joe Canrnahan’s “Smokin’ Aces,” this Argentinian-produced, writhing black comedy titled “Punto Rojo,” translated to English to “Red Point,” is written-and-directed by “Necrophobia 3D” writer Nicanor Loreti, credited as Nic Loreti.  The 2023 film delivers eclectic, colorful characters, a contortioned, nonlinear narrative, and has knockaround and kick it in the teeth clout told partly in a violence-laden flashback fashion.  Loreti self produces the crassly club leitmotif and high level-level compositional film alongside Damian Loreti, Lucas Accardo, and Orlana Castro under the product flags of Boitkot Films, Otto Films, and the government nationalized INCAA, the National Institute of Film and Audiovisual Arts. 

“Punto Rojo” begins quietly enough with Diego, played by the ruggedly intense features of Demián Salomón (“Terrified,” “Satanic Hispanics”), car sitting alone in, you guessed it, Red Point, a pediplain-esque area with not a soul surrounding him.  That is until a sleek, aero-suited skydiver crashes onto the hood ruins his euphoric fun of scoring first run success on-air of a radio quiz show.  Salomón dually presents the brutish outward appearing Diego as one-dimensional until he’s face-to-face with Paula, an Interpol officer also dressed in a sleek, skydiver area-suit and sporting a pixie cut from Mariana Anghileri (“On the 3rd Day”), then Diego’s simplicity turns complex in a more than meets the eye rough and tumble character pitted to hold his own in a brief cat-and-mouse game against an Interpol agent whose worked months, if not years, undercover to take down a high-powered criminal organization transporting a characterized atomic bomb.  Diego turns into one of those takes a hit and keeps on ticking tough guys as Paula has to work out and resolving the crumbling operation at hand.  Anghileri can act tough, be tough, and look tough during an operation gone awry and while both Diego and Paula square off in an advantage taking tit-for-tat, they’re unknowingly intertwined and sequestered by two different reasons that makes their fighting comically, and brutally, erroneous unfounded.   “Punto Rojo” fills out the cast with Juan Paolomino, Matías Lértora, Paula Manzone, and Pablo Sala.

While not based on the Argentinian comic book series of the same name, penned by Fernando Calvi, and published by Totem Comics, one can’t help believe Calvi’s metaphysical superhero somehow slipped in and brushed a bit of influence upon Nic Loreti’s pulpy design that sees screen filling, voulou text, brief live scene-to-comic transformative illustration filters, and, of course, the absurd ultraviolence that allows for a great deal of forgiving punishment in the name of entertainment value.  The nonlinear narrative told through a couple of extended flashbacks fills in the first acts’ gaps mechanized by an all-in-one, up-to-speed process to fully explain how and when the two lead principals came to meet but then suddenly becomes muddled when the patiently and systematically cared for first two acts hastily unfolds by the rapid fire ending that doesn’t have an ounce, or even a chance for, coherency.  The ending almost resembles the unfortunate process of an unfinished film that is quickly cut for wrapping and presentation as a last-ditch effort to accrue a pocket change profit from the investment and the crude finale is cheaply glued together, pieced slapdashedly, and arranged with crisscross confusion.  The ending also drops that comic book style used early on, bringing the integrated audio score combined to flex with the enlarged, ostentatious text and vivid panache to a grinding halt against what could have been a stellar ending from the short-lived laid out and shocking material we do get to experience.  By no means is “Punto Rojo” a bad story, just mixed up technically and arranged, and that hurts the viewership the most when an intriguing, weaving concept falls short of expectations. 

MVD Visual brings this South American quagmire of a story Stateside with a new Blu-ray release. The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD25, presented in an anamorphic 2.39:1 aspect ratio, captures in full frame Loreti’s long shots held in landscape view without a touch of grading to betone the natural exterior features. Mariano Suárez (“When Evil Lurks”) works the camera angles, dollies, cranes, and, I suspect, drones to blueprint and definition an extremely near sea of brown and tan around the more thrilling elements, such as the characters, that bring the drab set to life with a pop of color. No real issues with compression as the quality in color and, aside from the superimposed, gimcrack plane explosion, details remain unwavering, to which to also note that black levels, and there are many in flashbacks, render a solid inky darkness. The Spanish language audio options come in two lossless formats: a DTS-HD master audio 5.1 and a LPCM 2.0 stereo. The infusion of Pablo Sala’s (“Witch”) guttural guitar notes into the opening and closing credits, as well as isolated and detached to denote significant plot points, has potency inside the channels, as well as having a pleasantly diversifying grating of our ears, but never insidious replaces or missteps into the dialogue’s solid top track amongst the variable fray of explosions, skirmishes, and thematic atmospherics of the setting that do slither into the right auditory fields. Option subtitles are available and are timely moderately well with only a single mistake noted. Special features include Nic Loreti’s short film “Pinball” and the original theatrical trailer, both in high-definition. In the audio options, director Nic Loreti and producer Lucas Accardo’s English commentary can be sourced for more feature-length insight. Coming in a standard Blu-ray Amary case, the mesh screen-topped, blood red graded cover lacks that format fixation for marketability but gets the point across of the principal players involved in the fracas. The disc is pressed with a cropped version of the front cover and there is no insert included. The region free MVD Visual release comes not rated and has a runtime of 80 minutes.

Last Rites: Good start, bad finish. “Punto Rojo” lurid charisma out the gate lures audiences into a world of deceit, action, and violence that promises a backfill to fulfill a middle-of-the-story beginning; however, the climatic bomb dropped on us, or rather U.S., had no time to dissolve into our nervous system and what “Punto Rojo” greatly constructs with its economic desperation and black humor is quickly demolished in a blink of an eye in the sky.

“Punto Rojo” on MVD Visual Blu-ray!

To Be EVIL, It Takes a Little Backbone. “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” reviewed! (IndiePix Unlimited / DVD)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Own “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” on DVD. Purchase Here!

In the Gyeongbuk region of South Korea, a brand-new mattress is being delivered to a young couple’s new apartment but upon arrival, the fed-up delivery men take off when no one answers the door and leave it for the job endeavoring girlfriend who must lug up the mattress herself as she finds her boyfriend asleep on the floor. After more than year together, the threadbare relationship inevitably ends and the girlfriend vacates the apartment, but during all that time together, a mysterious mold formulates from within the mattress and surfaces on the pillow top. The mold turns sentient and uses an outgrowth protuberance to latch onto and extract the boyfriend’s vertebra for nourishment. From then on, the mattress is discarded into the world, being picked up and used by unsuspecting nourishments for the interior mold. Travelling across Korea land to difference providences, feasting on the vertebrae that becomes the building blocks of a new being, the growing mold digests to integrate itself into a human world. Absorbing the miscellanea range of emotions from its victims, what was once small fry fungi has become self-aware, compassionate, and even more hungry to live.

How do you write-up the depth of a film that’s undeniably indescribable? Syeyoung Park’s “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” trembles on the edge of being the epitome of that very sentiment with an abstract creature feature concept bred out of people’s raw emotions. The 2022 South Korean phantasmagoric horror, fattening itself off the dysphoric and euphoric morsels, is written-and-directed by Park as the filmmaker’s debut feature film credit that tackles life birthed out of death, such as the symbolic end of relationships and literal death, and becomes a metaphor stemmed by the natural growth phenomena of fungi, a new lifeform that grows out of rot. The Moonstone Productions indie picture is a festival favorite amongst the Fantasia Film Festival and others and is distributed onto physical media by the s streaming platform IndiePix Unlimited.

“The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” doesn’t hone into and latch onto one core group of principals characters; instead, the travelling, moldy mattress has episodic events with interactions to various emotionally-turbulent or charged people that the being inside the dingy mattress not only cuts out and extracts a physical piece of who these characters are but also absorbs their emotional weight, in what could be considered as an incident in molding the mold into what it itself can come to be.  One-sided care and love, a tempestuous connection, contempt, amorous spontaneity, loneliness, and death feed the fungus and shape its mildewy putrescence on the mattress like the coating of an incubation chamber to ensure growth, maturity, and nutrition.  The episodic events hit and miss the gravitational pull needed land firmly on what’s being conveyed.  The woman on death’s bed was perhaps the most impactful written with regret left unsaid, unaccounted for, and is shouldered by the thing in the mattress to fulfill with a letter to the woman’s daughter to let her know about the mother’s definitive adoration.  Other instances are fleeting, perhaps lost in translation, of the evocative impression intended as the mattresses does a reach around for a clean vertebrae excision.  In either case, the now-vertebrae-less don’t even notice when a large part of their backbone is literally ripped from them in the moment; only in post-snatch do they double over in pain and unable to stand and straighten from their crippling past.  The film’s cast includes Mun Hye-in, Ham Sukyoung, On Jeong Yeon, Jung Soo-min, Kim Ye-na, and Park Jihyeon as the humanoid creature.

The fifth thoracic vertebrae, the T-5 spine part and not the film’s title, is located near the top-center of the spine in the thoracic grouping and it supports the abdominal muscles and feeds into the chest wall coinciding with the muscles around the rib cage, lungs, and diaphragm, to assist with breathing.  In Sye-young’s abstract, “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” does not brace audiences for metaphorical monsters surrounded by dreamlike imagery and esoteric purposes.  With no explanation, visual or verbally articulated, piecing together the strange circumstances is heavily relied upon our own personal experiences in life, our past mistakes, our relationship fails, our giddy fondness, and so forth to interpret Sye-young’s theoretical philosophy on the unfinished leftovers of a kaput relationship.  I believe Sye-young also felt the need to explain his film in a director’s statement on the back of a DVD that questions the whereabout “bits and scraps” of a failed relationship by anthropomorphism means and relating it all to the cycle of fungus.  While a difficult conceptual pill to swallow, “the Fifth Thoracic Vertebrae” can display beauty and disgust in a composite of odd juxtaposition in a peculiar world where a dirty, moldy mattress is an acceptable roadside pickup and debilitating excised bones of the body go without being questioned.   There’s an aloof presence that speaks symbolic volumes to the relationships depicted and with an open mind and broad, thoughtful strokes, one may see through the director’s expressionism.

Indiepix Unlimited, an online streaming service dedicated to independent films, also caters to the physical media market with a DVD release of “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra.”  Encoded onto a single layered 5GB DVD-R, it’s been a while since I’ve seen an official release on the recordable DVD format and for the visual picture quality that’s already on a standard definition 720p resolution, we receive a middle-of-the-road 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio presentation. Posterization, in voids and on the skin, is the main artefact culprit in a stylish context of warm gel yellows and greens and the seldomly naturally lit hues which are not as richly saturated but can hold its own for a DVD-R.  There’s not a ton of detail in the mattress mold and any clear view frames are obscured by distance, the cover of darkness, and the cover of blankets as, much like all else, the contours are nicely delineated but the overall color scheme of the film blend together. The South Korean uncompressed LPC 2.0 mix has a pleasing enough unassuming range and depth field that hits all the notes and presents ambience with basically what is needed to envelope the immediate surroundings around the principal objects, all balanced through the dual channels.  The burned in English subtitles are not flawless but are synched well and seemingly translated okay.  The release comes feature only and the standard DVD Amary casing comes with an eye-catching, or rather eye-starring, front cover with no outer coverings or inserts.  The disc art deliberately yells DVD-R with a plain white, barely unique logoed, ring splay.   The release comes not rated with a runtime of 65 minutes and is confirmed to play on region 1 playback.  Untested for other regions. 

Last Rites: “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” impresses with forlorn residue in what is an offbeat creature feature where the creature is inside the mattress rather than under it.  Yet, the story stretches the imagination too far and near a snapping point that allows for no breathing room in what is a tale of lamentable remnants that creepingly germinates spores into a melancholic mycelium overtime. 

Own “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra” on DVD. Purchase Here!

Make Do With Your God-Given EVIL! “Bad Biology” reviewed! (Severin Films / 4K UHD – Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Bad Biology” on 4KUHD and Blu-ray Combo Set. Purchase Here!

Jennifer and Batz don’t know each other and live two totally different lives but they have one thing in common, they are enslaved by their abnormal sexual organs.  Jennifer, a young provocative photographer, embraces her vagina’s biological differences and immensely magnified hormones whereas Batz suffers monstrously from his radical rehabilitation of a once limp manhood.  The contrasts continue as Jennifer must scratch the inflamed itch to be penetrated, luring men with her insatiable lust that ultimately end in their demise with an irrepressible emotional sway, whereas the botted-up Batz’s love life is virtually bankrupt due in fear of his conscious and uncontrollable enlarged penis.  When Jennifer happens upon Batz in her peripheral during a photoshoot, she finds him intriguing enough to break into his home and watch him with a prostitute.  The experience left the prostitute with a continuous orgasm long after penetration was over and left Jennifer with an impression that her vagina has finally found it’s match in life. 

Seventeen years.  That’s how long the inactivity span was between Frank Henenlotter’s last directed film and his next.  Not since 1991 did Henenlotter, the madcap mastermind behind some of the more than unusual creature-esque concepts surrounding sexuality, addiction, and childbirth in a way that sheds light on society’s blatant distaste for the odd and grotesque,  profess his creative talents with his trademark dark humor and unabashed practical effects that campy the content toward much to our enjoyment again until returning to the director’s chair with the 2008 shlock-sleazy horror-comedy “Bad Biology,” cowritten alongside American rapper R.A. “The Rugged Man” Thorburn as the musicians first taste of the film industry.  Shot in and around the New York metropolitan area, “Bad Biology” is also produced by Thorburn alongside associate producers Dario Correale, Nicholas Deeg, Antonia Napoli, Vinnie Paz, and star Anthony Sneed under the LLC created for Bad Biology. 

Not many would take on a role with heightened sexual absurdity, especially one with a puppeteered penis on the hunt for feminine pelvic regions or where a numerous clitorises ramp up sexual drive into murderous overdrive.  Yet, first time actors Charlee Danielson and Anthony Sneed seem game for the roles as lonely sexual misfits Jennifer and Batz.  To debut right out the gate as a character proclaiming to have 7 clits in the very first scene can’t be easy and I’m sure a deluge of thoughts questioning just what in the ridiculous Hell did I get myself into accelerated through her thoughts but Charlee Danielson doesn’t pull punches or need a second to rethink life choices in the feed the need role of lust, sex, kill, labor, birth and repeat.  Same can be said about Anthony Sneed’s slinking and desperate peculiarities for Batz and Sneed’s willingness to browbeat his own anaconda trouser snake to assert back in being control.  Danielson and Sneeds have tough jobs but pull off Henenlotter and Thorburn’s grotesquely envisioned gallows humor and body horror.  While the confidence is there, the experience is not resulting in a stiff, monotone performances in nearly every scene and that can dampen the story’s eccentrical principals who are just delivering the lines instead of taking the lines to heart.  Being that “The Rugged Man” is a rapper, the cast is comprised of other likeminded musical artists, mostly rappers as well, with Remedy, J-Zone, Vinnie Paz, and Reef the Lost Cause along with cameos from other artists and music producers.  And being a film mostly about sex, “Bad Biology” fills out the cast with models and actors very comfortable showing their skin in Vivian Sanchez, Carolyn Thompson, Brittany Moyer, Vicky Wiese, Ginger Starr, Vladislav S., and well-verse indie horror scream queen Tina Krause (“Crimson Nights”, “The Fappening”).

Outrageous with bad taste, “Bad Biology” prides itself with point-blank profaneness and kitschy special effects, a resounding typical Frank Henenlotter production as the director hasn’t seemingly lost a step in 17 years between films.  Yet, the story’s infiltrated by the need to incorporate strong personality cameos and is uneven in a way that hyper focuses on Jennifer’s quest, with inner monologuing, flashbacks, and direct camera speaking surrounding her spiritual search of a satiable schlong for her specialized snatch, becomes subverted by Batz’s less significantly told story quickly summed up in introspection while being pleasured by a homemade, industrial-sized masturbator.  Doesn’t quite feel Batz receives the same valued introduction in contrast to his female counterpart, but he quickly forges a more interesting path having a roid-raging, self-aware, monster cock that’s addicted to large animal anabolic steroids and is isolated from the rest of the world.  As polar opposite in the way Jennifer and Batz view and handle their sexual anomalies, the pair make the perfect odd couple, like “Ghostbusters’ Key Master and Gatekeeper, but at the cost of their own stories and their inevitable hookup that becomes flattened by a steamrolling climatic slasher-esque moment that doesn’t really involve them at all, segregating the leads momentarily from their own catalytic arc that deflates the finale into a flaccidity.  Most of the comedy also falls flat but the dialogue is well bulbous in the skilled rhapsody and written dialogue that shocks and awes with every depraved bluster.

Scanned in 4K from the camera negative, “Bad Biology” receives a UHD plus Blu-ray 2-disc set from Severin Films. The HEVC encoded, ultra high-definition 2160p, BD100 and the AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, BD50 are both presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. The 4K scan fills in the gaps of next stage video evolution though the gaps filled are minuscule at best. What makes the real difference is Henenlotter shooting in Super 35mm that provides a gritty grain overlay and similar, if not identical, saturation as film stock. Finer details more in the setting aspects, around darker areas, that are more illuminated by the pixel increase. Skin tones and grading are naturally set without much of a stylistic presence other than the gels used for the giant penis vision and the peering from inside-out Jennifer’s Uterine cavity. I do think facial details are not as firm, possibly smoothed too much during the restoration. The English language audio options include a lossless DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio and a 2.0 stereo. Presenting flawless dialogue within the heavy soapboxing monologues and philosophical diatribes, “Bad Biology” promenades dialogue as an important part to the film’s machination. This doesn’t mean everything is flounders with a range of outrageous sound effects, including the gushings of childbirth, the whooshing whips of a conscious monster male member, and the squishy ins-and-outs of copulation. Spatial depths have finite proportions that relinquishes true depth to keep audiences near the action audibly. Closed caption English subtitles are optionally available. The 4K disc might have a capacity of 100 gigabytes but the format’s space on this release is quickly depleted for the feature and two audio commentary tracks – one with director Frank Henenlotter, director of photography Nick Deeg, and actor Anthony Sneed while the second commentary also includes Henenlotter and cowriter/producer R.A. The Rugged Man Thorburn. Both commentaries are also on the Blu-ray, housing over 5+ hours of special features which includes interviews with a Spook House entitled segment featuring interviews with Henenlotter, Thorburn, Deeg, production coordinator Michael Shershenovich, production manager Chaz Kangas, and David Henenlotter, an unorthodox interview between a basketball and actress Charlee Danielson In the Basement with Charlee Danielson, a lengthy back and forth question and answer between actor Anothy Sneed and cinematographer Nicholas Deeg, an interview with special effects artist Gabe Bartalos (“Frankenhooker,” “Basket Case 3”) Swollen Agenda, a behind the scenes of the film, photographer Clay Patrick McBride snapping cast and crew O-faces around Henenlotter’s apartment in F*ck Face, short film “Suck” directed by Anthony Sneed, R.A. The Rugged Man Thorburn music video for “Legendary Loser,” an imagine gallery, behind-the-scenes shots, and video covers and death stills. The standard 4K UHD release comes in the traditional black Amary case with an O-face compilation compositional cover art and has a lock-tabbed disc on each side. The release does not come with a reversible covert art or insert. Both idiosyncratic disc arts have whimsically crude caricatures of the main characters. The region free release has a runtime of 84 minutes and unrated.

Last Rites: “Bad Biology” marks a return to ungovernable psychotronic cinema for filmmaker Frank Henenlotter with new blood, a new story, and the same old objectionable orifices and organs of monstrous body horror.

“Bad Biology” on 4KUHD and Blu-ray Combo Set. Purchase Here!

Backyard is Spacious, Green, and has an EVIL Portal to the Underworld! “The Gate” and “The Gate II” reviewed! (Via Vision / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Better Hurry! Amazon Has a 20% Coupon for This Very Release! Limited to 1500 Copies.

The Gate

A severe storm brings down Glen’s treehouse, leaving a giant hole in his background.  Discovering what looks to be precious geode rocks, Glen and his friend Terry continue to dig hoping to strike larger, more valuable, geodes.  When they come upon a sizable rock, breaking it open unveils a crystalized liner of colorful minerals as well as a strange gas that unearths an incantation to open a gate to the underworld.  With Glen’s parents gone for the weekend, he, his teenage older sister Al, and Terry must somehow reverse the opening of the gate but demonic-serving, pint-sized minions hunt down a pair of human sacrifices in order to unleash their powerful demon master, an old God reemerging from being locked away from Earth for billions of years.  Serving the night is a fight for their very lives as the minions use their cunning tricks and supernatural powers to deceive the home alone kids into traps in order for there to be Hell on Earth. 

Created in mind to appeal to children with the limitless possibilities of a child’s imagination, “The Gate” caters to a wide audience of all ages.  Hungarian-born Director Tibor Takács and American-born writer Michael Nankin bring out of the shadows the scary corners of a young mind into the light with a demonic tale, a portal from another plane of existence, and a theme of growing up and being accountable in a context of taking head on a doomsday event without mommy and daddy.  The 1987 released Canadian production, shot mostly around Ontario, is the first of two “The Gate” films under the studio flag of Alliance Entertainment.  Presented by New Century Entertainment, as one of the company’s limited credits, “The Gate” is produced by fellow Hungarians in Andras Hamori, who went on to produce fellow Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg’s “eXistenZ,” and “Quest for Fire” and “The Wraith’s” John Kemeny.

The Gate II:  The Trespassers

Five years after narrowly surviving near Hell of Earth, Terry’s obsession to return to Glen’s abandoned and dilapidated home and resurrect the demonic powers of wish granting stems from his jobless father’s dwindling livelihood, drinking himself into a stupor every night at the bottom of a bottle.  With equipment powered to project his incantations and protect him from evil, Terry is about to begin his summoning when interrupted by three teens led by bad boy John who mostly ridicules his fixation until one of the pint-sized minions comes out of the shadows and is quickly gunned down by John.  The injured minion self-heals and is captured for wish granting exploitation but when the wishes turn into a disastrous chimera, Terry soon realizes that his summoning has not just been answered for selfish motives, but it also re-opened the portal for three power demons to transmogrify from within him and his friends. 

The success of “The Gate” sought the fast tracking of a follow-up story produced within two years’ time after that spoke a different tone and came in a different approach to the nightmarish content and the age of the kids.  Takács and Nankin reteam for “The Gate II:  The Trespassers” who, at the authoritative behest of executive powers, had to take the fantastical lining of a child’s imagination to more extreme measures that evolved the original film’s grotesquely saturated PG-13 rating into a lighter, water downed R rating, removing a good chunk of the viewer base from a theatrical run.  The 1990 released venture was also shot at some of the same sets in Ontario Canada as the first film with Alliance Entertainment returning as producing studio and Vision International presenting to the world.  Andras Hamori and John Kemeny also return as producers.

Doesn’t take the understanding mechanisms of rocket science to discern “The Gate’s” cinematic victory.  Demons were all the rage in 80’s from Italian eurotrash to American grindhouse and why shouldn’t the Canadians get into the action?  Special and makeup effects, in themselves, are tremendously impressive, as aspect we’ll go thoroughly more into later in the review.  Yet, the one golden ticket area that deems “The Gate” as an unsullied hero of PG-13 horror is the unaccompanied children misadventure narrative coupled with, or maybe elevated by, good dialogue sanctioned by even better performances.  The 80’s saw scads of children in danger storylines that either had no responsible adult in sight or the adult party was the adversarial danger.  “Explorers,” “Adventures in Babysitting,” “E.T.,” and, one of the biggest examples of all, “The Goonies,” caddied the action-adventure and thrills-and-chills long game for the better part of the 80s decade and “The Gate” teed up on the opportunity, bringing together a trio of varying degrees of adolescents to go toe-to-toe with an ancient evil in what would have been seen as a no-win situation.  In his feature film debut, the barely teenage Stephen Dorff (“Blade”) lead the trio as the highly impressionable and model rocket enthusiast Glen, the youngest of the cast to be the one to save them all, including big sister Al, played by Christa Denton, and best friend Terry, played by Louis Tripp.  Tripp would go on to be principal lead in the sequel that veered away from the fantastically supernatural misadventures of innocence into a more older teen intrinsic narrative that no longer saw the world warp through youthful eyes.  While Tripp segues seamlessly in his role, he finds himself in new territory as the heavy metal and demonology aficionado sparks potential romantic interest in Liz (prolific voice actress Pamela Adlon, “Vampire Hunter D:  Bloodlust”) and is seized by arrogant bullies with two pot smoking hooligans Moe (Simon Reynolds, “P2”) and John (James Villemaire, “Zombie 5:  Killing Birds”), both instances a premiere example of the raw rite through to adulthood.  Again, “The Gate II” keeps adults at an arm’s length away, forsaking youth the challenge of cleaning up their own mess.  Both films fill out their respective performances from Kelly Rowan (“Candyman:  Farewell to the Flesh”), Jennifer Irwin (“Another Evil”), Deborah Grover (“Rated X”), Scot Denton (“Murder in Space”), Carl Kraines (“The Slayer”), and Neil Munro (“Murder by Phone”).

Special effects by the team of Randall William Cook, Craig Reardon, and Frank Carere couldn’t have pulled off an ambitiously suburban horror hyper focused inside Glen’s home any better.  Fashioning mind-bending illusions that are still marveled at to this day, Cook’s forced perceptions eliminates mostly the use of stop motion tactics for the miniature sized minions, replacing the rigid effect with a more lively physical man-in-suit option that smooths out the actions, attributing the creatures idiosyncratically with not only depth of perception to contrast sizes but also shot in a faster camera speed compared to which the seemingly normal sized actors would have to slow down their performances to become level with the creature.  The whole process is crazily multifaceted and mind-boggling effective if pulled out in great detail and “The Gate” team does so, twice, in face, between the two films, with Reardon’s fleshy creature designs enhancing the hideous zeal in the bulbously decaying Workman zombie and even in Reardon’s blamelessly slapped together endgame demons for the ordered change of a quickly surmised climax in the sequel.  As a collaborating unit, the special effects crew pulls off seamless transitions in what is captivatingly pure eye-candy of movie magic.  The stories themselves, especially in “The Gate,” are enchanting, full of mysterious and unpredictability, and stretches the imagination beyond the confining limit as we’re led to inevitable showdown only to be pleasantly accosted on the optics.  The sequel has a rougher go with the story as the narrative feels like a wound-up toy twisted tight to the threshold only to be released spinning in all different types of directions that ultimately lead to an exhausted stopping point. The stark contrast between the two films doesn’t offer a lot of subsequential continuity in narrative and even in some areas of the special effects but the silver lining in that last statement can be a sigh of relief in not receiving a rehashed product sought to recap or repeat off the back of the original’s success. Instead, “The Gate II” begs to be separated to be its own entity and does so while being a homage to the practical illusions that sparks awe, joy, and terror!

If looking to physically own both “”The Gate” and “The Gate II” in one deluxe package, the Australian based distributor Via Vision has set the bar high with their 2-disc, numbered limited edition, Blu-ray collector’s set. Both films, shown in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio, are AVC encoded with a high-definition, 1080p resolution on a BD50 (“The Gate”) and BD25 (“The Gate II”) and we’ll come to the reasoning to that split later on. Shot on 35mm and scanned into a 2K print, not many details are noted about what film negative or other print element is scanned to 2K but most of the bonus content on this particular release is Vestron produced, leading to believe the same Vestron print is also used here. Between the two pictures, “The Gate II” has a better saturated image whereas the original film almost seems ungraded with a slight gray concealer that somewhat mutes the hues. The forced perception shots are seamless yet are also delineated nicely that curves into a believable and pleasing symmetry without an inkling of divisional depths. Skin tones are natural looking and textures, such as practical prosthetic masks and molds, score high in all the nooks and crannies of the folds and surface level haptics. The English encoded tracks include a lossy DTS-HD 2.0 stereo codec on “The Gate” and an uncompressed, lossless PCM 2.0 stereo on “The Gate II.” These sole options provide suitable stereophonics without significant compression issues, other than “The Gate’s” minor fidelity data loss, or original source damage or technical gaffs, such as hissing or popping. Dialogue design sees the “The Gate” come out on top over the course of layering and projecting atmospheric augmenting. I don’t get that same sense from “The Gate II” that modulates the dialogue with a redounding heavy-handed echo effect in locations it does not make sense for reverberations. “The Gate” has English and Spanish subtitles with the sequel reduced to just English subs available. “The Gate’s” greater format capacity holds most of the special feature cards with a number of duplicated Vestron produced bonus content, including two audio commentaries: commentary one with director Tibor Takács, screenwriter Michael Nankin, and special effects designer/supervisor Randal William Cook and second commentary with Cook again along with his f/x crew Graig Reardon, Frank Carere, and Bill Taylor. Composer Michael Hoenig and J. Peter Robinson discuss the score with selected isolated tracks to enjoy, a conversation between Takács and Cook in The Gate: Unlocked, Craig Readon in an interview about creating the pint-sized creatures in Minion Maker, an interview with co-producer Andras Hamori From Hell it Came, an interview with actor Carl Kraines aka The Workman aka Terry the Demon The Workman Speaks!, an interview compilation from the local Toronto talent involved Made in Canada, a 2009, archival retrospective look and discussion from Reardon and Cook at their monstrous being handiwork From Hell: The Creatures & Demons of The Gate with Randall William Cook and Craig Readon, a 2009, archival retrospective look and discussion with director and writer Tibor Takács and Michael Nankin The Gatekeepers, a vintage making-of featurette, teaser and theatrical trailers, TV spots, and storyboard and behind-the-scenes galleries. In what is a David and Goliath size imbalance, “The Gate II” special features ultimately will not trump with smaller disc capacity and the lack thereof content but the second disc sequel does contain a new, 2023 audio commentary by Tibor Takács and film historian Jarret Gahan as well as a documentary with Takács, Nankin, and Cook Return to the Nightmare: A Look Back at The Gate II that discusses how and where the film strayed off the intended course, an interview with make-up effects artist Craig Reardon From the Depths, the theatrical trailer, and retain video promo. Via Vision’s limited-edition packaging is another world chic and cool with a rigid sleeve box and a lenticular “The Gate II” front cover art. Slipped inside from the right is a single Amary Blu-ray case with a center stationed second disc attachment. While the front cover on the sleeve box showcases the sequel cover, the Amaray’s reversible cover sports the original “The Gate” cover art with a Glen still image and film cast/crew credits on the other side. Also inside the sleeve box are six fully colored glossy photo cards! Both films are Australia certified Mature for moderate violence and moderate course language and have a runtime of 84 minutes (“The Gate”) and 93 minutes (“The Gate II”). The Via Vision release is region B locked (note: the release did play on my region A setting).

Last Rites: Digging a hole to open “The Gate” and the contradistinctive sequel unburies a pair of underrated underworld-creeping-toward-the-surface 80’s phantasmagorias, a regular doomsday fait accompli with children standing between Hell of Earth and saving the world, and what better wait to see the world potentially burn to the ground than with a beautiful new Blu-ray collector’s set from Via Vision!

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