Category Archives: occult

Just Because Your EVIL Dad Says Its Okay, It’s Probably Not. “Netherworld” reviewed! (Blu-ray / Full Moon Features)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Enter the Netherworld on Blu-ray!

A wealthy owner of the Thorton plantation bequeaths to his willfully neglected son, Corey, his large Louisiana estate. He’s welcomed by the estate’s unusual lawyer, a house caretaker with an affinity for birds, and her beautiful daughter Diane who, despite her teenage muliebrity, immediately takes an interest and liking to the handsome young man. Corey is also met with his shirker father’s penned testament, to be resurrected from the dead by a sexually alluring brothel woman and necromancer named Delores who works at the local bordello and bar named Tonks. Fascinated by the idea, Corey hangs around the bar and becomes just as engrossed with Delores as his father as he seeks to abide by his father’s supernatural wishes but there’s a warbler cult connected to Delores and Corey’s father with an underhanded scheme that doesn’t favor the new, young estate owner trying to save and possibly get to know the father he never knew, the same one who abandoned him as a small child.

One of the more stranger Charles Band productions to every come out of Full Moon Entertainment, and that’s saying something for a media empire that made killing on hawking killer dolls amongst other oddity-saturated, carnivalesque sci-fi and horror for many decades, “Netherworld” is the early 90’s, Cajun-encrusted, occulter of the Full Moon legacy director of “Tourist Trap” and “Puppet Master,” David Schmoeller, who also cowrote the film alongside Charles Band. “Netherworld” harkens to a time before Band became visionally crazed by dolls, or miniaturized maniacs in general, with a plot that promises Cajun black magic beyond the traditional spells and curses of Louisiana Voodoo, a son desperate to reconnect with his long-lost father who abandoned him, and a flying stone hand with finger extremities that turn into vicious snake-like creatures when attacking the quarried head, but is “Netherworld” too extrusive of the regular and in vogue poured cement of solidified psycho-dolls? ‘Netherworld” is executively produced by Charles Band, produced by Ty Bradford (“Trancers II”) and is a part of the vast Full Moon Entertainment catalogue of productions.

Unsuspectingly walking into between the veil of the living and the dead is predominately television actor Michael Bendetti (“21 Jump Street”) embarking on his first ever horror feature as Corey Thorton, the city boy, or so we assume as he leisurely journeys down a windingly steamy Louisiana tributary in a button-down shirt and tie, who learns his deadbeat, rich father has left him a large amount of property. For having been left fatherless for all of his life, the pill that read as Corey’s deep-rooted longing to familiarize with a flake of a father is a hard one to swallow. The angle that Schmoeller should have attacked more resurrection motivation is the one that involves Corey searching for answers in his father’s disfavor, choosing to live without the flesh and blood legacy of a son, and why now, posthumously, does his father want to reconnect? Audiences will find the answer overly obvious, but Corey Thorton’s thickness proves more difficult to penetrate, especially when he’s beguiled by an enchantress who can summon a flying, snake-fingered hand that emerges an affixing binding wire out from its stony skin and can turn whorehouse johns into caged birdies, literally, if they misbehave or become indelicately frisky. The house keeper’s horseback riding daughter Diane is marred by Holly Floria (“Bikini Island”) with an excessive Southern Belle accent when her character’s status doesn’t stem from sophistication and affluency but rather from the blue collared starry eyes of Anjanette Comer’s (“The Baby”) motherly and hospitality position. When the climax arrives in grand temps and we’re face-to-face with Corey’s ghostly pops, living in the titular Netherworld, the story takes a sudden branch drop that executes any voyage into the void between worlds and there’s quite a bit of neglect for Robert Sampson (“Re-Animator”) as Corey’s father who barely has any scenes to live up to being the film’s primo antagonist pulling the strings of the marionette of his flesh and blood. “Netherworld” fills out the cast with Robert Burr (“Ghost Story”), Alex Datcher (“Passenger 57”), Holly Butler (“Vendetta”), George Kelly (“Jugular Wine: A Vampire Odyssey”) and Denise Gentile (“Ordinary Madness”) as the super-sexy, premium prostitute Delores with parapsychological powers that connect her to the land of the dead.

Off the tip of a gator’s nose, “Netherworld” offers a taste of Full Moon’s 90’s production, promising radically outlandish F/X with a monstrous airborne hand, saucy sexual content, and gore. Corey’s inner thoughts exposition and waterway introduction tends to be more private eye monologuing in the explanation setup of his unplanned inheritance and it also feels like the brittle beginnings of a trashy romance novel: young man travels down the river to his inherited late father’s estate, torn between a pubertal young daughter of the long-standing estate housekeeper and the haram brothel seductress with an eldritch, supernatural inveiglement. Corey’s past lacks backstory, leaving an even playing field across the board of all characters and participating audiences in what to expect from the wild card that is Corey. Immediately drawn to the wanton Tonks not for carnal desires but rather the one woman who her father says can restore his past expiration, Corey’s not a wild card of ambiguity as his role lacks the pull of tough decisions, often between character versus character conflict, with basically a mind already made up to visit the bar-and-bordello despite the ominous warning signs between George Kelly’s sloppy bayou cajuner wanting to dance with Corey at Tonks, Diane’s strong opposition for Tonks in general, and amongst others dubious gratifying points. “Netherworld” very much lives in a world of opposition, like Superman’s bizarro world that defies logic. Logic such as the transition of people into birds, or being inducted into a clan of avian cultists, or ciphering who’s a good guy and who’s a bad guy, or, and this is the most important or, the suddenly cleaved ending that not only doesn’t allow a satisfying ending but also doesn’t explain much, in dialogue or in action, what came into existence once Corey was stuck in the Netherworld other than the obvious trade his father wanted to force.

Full Moon Features brings Hell to Blu-ray with an uncut and remastered from the original camera negative transfer of “Netherworld” in the continuous effort by the empire to upgrade all their classics for a new wave of format availability. Scanned into 2K from the 35mm negative, the AVC encoded, 1080p, high-definition Blu-ray looks pretty darn good. Well kempt over the years, the negative appears to have sustained little age or wear that progresses the hi-def upgrade with relative ease. Color grading is warm and stoked with detail that encrusts every object – the lushy bayou forest, the stony power of a flying hand, Michael Bendetti’s layered curly-perm mullet – all of it is greatly textured and delineated for depth, presented in the 1:78:1, widescreen aspect ratio. Compression doesn’t appear to be an issue despite a lower storage BD25 but that might be due to the utter lack of bonus accompaniments. The release offers two audio options: an English Dolby Digital 5.1 surround sound and an English Dolby Digital 2.0 mix. Both options are equally suitable as the there’s not much more environmental oomph through the extra channels despite the full-bodied cacophonous cicada singing, which unfortunately doesn’t open up depth in the back channels despite the prevalence of the singing in the story’s background sonance. However, dialogue doesn’t feel cheated with a dominating layer and decent range to go with it. Along with essentially what is a bare bones disc, there are also no subtitles available with this release. What is available to view outside the feature is other Full Moon trailers and the original VideoZone segment that covers this particular 1992 gem. Physical features don’t stray too far from VHS, to DVD, to Blu-ray with the same flinty hand rocketing outward in a 3D-like position on the front cover. There are no inserts included with this release. “Netherworld” Blu-ray comes region free, with a runtime of 82 minutes, and, for the first time ever, uncut! An opposition to the usual spun of Louisiana voodoo-hoodoo, there’s another dark magic brewing in the bayou in “Netherworld,” but the promising story can’t coherently piece together down river in an uneven quagmire of quandaries.

Enter the Netherworld on Blu-ray!

EVIL Has the Right to Remain Dead! “Magic Cop” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

No Two-Bit Magician In ‘Magic Cop” on Blu-ray!  

Hong Kong cops are confounded by a chaotic drug bust when learning that their female suspect, who had managed to overpower an entire unit of male officers and even take a bullet ambling deadpan into the streets, had died 7 days prior.  An outlying officer, and practicing Taoist, Uncle Feng is called to Hong Kong to not only quickly solve the narcotic crime but also investigate the unnatural properties of the case.  Feng is accompanied by his city eager niece Lin and two Hong Kong cops, a Taoist devotee and skeptic of Ancient Chinese spiritual mythologies.  Together, they track the drug trail to The Sorceress, a Japanese witch with powers that rival Feng and that can resurrect the dead into zombies and vampires to do her bidding, such as trafficking narcotics.  When the investigation closes in her business, The Sorceress and her right arm, skilled fighter plan to remove the only man worthy of stopping her.

Fans of Ricky Lau’s “Mr. Vampire” will once again be amazed and entertained by the fantastical and mystical action of Stephen Tung Wai’s “Magic Cop.”  Tung, a fellow martial artist and stunt man who had roles in “The Fatal Flying Guillotine” and John Woo’s “Hard Boiled,” helms his debut directorial penned by Chi-Leung Shum (“Vampire vs Vampire”) and the longtime Stephen Chow script writer Kan-Cheung Tsang (“Shaolin Soccer,” “Kung-Fu Hustle”).  The screenwriting duo brought lighting quick comedy to the mostly fictionally invented yet sprinkled with slivers of hard-pressed veracity and definitive entertaining occultism and what resulted resurrected “Mr. Vampire” semblance out of the being a period piece and into the modern day, backdropped in the year of 1990 when the film was released.  Long rumored to be the fifth sequel of the “Mr. Vampire” franchise, “Magic Cop” is a coproduction between Movie Impact Limited, Millifame Productions Limited, and Media Asia Film with star Ching-Ying Lam producing.

“Magic Cop,” and even “Mr. Vampire,” wouldn’t have such a cult following if it wasn’t for the Vulcan eyebrows and thin mustache of Ching-Ying Lam in costume.  The short-statured, Shanghai-born Lam delivers the same vigorous choreography and tranquil demeanor to this particularly stoic character of Uncle Feng, a Taoist practitioner to essentially wrangle unruly entities and please the spirits in the in-between our world.  Feng is old world and finds himself in surrounded by modernism when in Hong Kong, goaded by the young lead sergeant attached the case.  Practical as well as disrespectful, Sgt. Lam (Wilson Lam, “Ghost for Sale”) epitomizes today’s, or rather back then the 1990’s, modern man who has forgotten tradition and deference to those who came before.  Though padded with a fair amount of comedy coursing throughout, balanced against the impeccably edited tango fight sequences, Sgt’ Lam’s partner, known only as Sgt. 2237 played by “Centipede Horror’s” Kiu-Wai Miu, risibly wants to understudy Uncle Feng’s powers while Feng’s niece Lin, played by Mei-Wah Wong of “The Chinese Ghostbusters,” provides the subtle and quirky opposite sex that catches of the philandering eyes of Sgt. Lam.  The ragtag quartet of influx mindsets and personalities become challenged by their single common goal, to stop whoever is behind breathing life into the formidable dead and stop the unorthodox method of drug smuggling.  Former Japanese bodybuilder Michiko Nishwaki (“City Cops”) embodied that very dark magic antagonist.  Nishiwaki handles The Sorceress character with ease despite not having a surfeit army under her thumb; instead, this forces Nishiwaki to become the entire villain body with the slight, full-contact support for her right-hand bodyguard (Billy Chow, “Future Cops”) and a couple of undead lackeys, including Frankie Chi-Leung Chan of “Riki-Oh.”  “Magic Cop’s” cast rounds out completely with well-versed and seasoned, late actor Wu Ma (“Mr. Vampire,” “Return of the Demon”) as the chief inspector polarized in a complicated history with Uncle Feng.

What director Stephen Tung Wai boils down in essence is another variation of good executants of spirit humbled caretakers versus the wicked necromancers existing inside the fabric of the highly praised and cult-following “Mr. Vampire” universe.  Frankly, there’s nothing wrong with that derivativity since Ching-Ying Lam, Mr. Vampire himself, produces and stars as the titular hero.  Lam can conjure whatever-the-hell he wants in order to battle Hell itself.   “Magic Cop” is also a well-made, entertaining story, balanced between the contest wizardry, slapstick comedy, and the character dynamics, and stacked with improbable yet gratifying step-intensive fight orchestration that has gawked early martial arts films a wonder to behold and continues to do so to today but now trickles with pizzazz more-after-more due to put in place industry safety measures.  “Magic Cop” contains that lost art of potentially hazardous palatable physicality that beguiles more than the movie’s faux magic exhibited on screen.  To add to the authenticity, very little painted composited visual effects were used with makeup and the actors doing much of the heavy lifting with the editing team of Ting-Hung Kuo and Kee Charm Wu in full cut-and-paste fortifying mode to button up each sequence with comprehendible continuity of each punch, kick, and magical chopsocky.  One overtone made well known in “Magic Cop” is the unfillable chasms between old and new, respect and disrespect, and myth and science from whence solves no problems until some unified common ground can be reached in order to succeed, in this case, to stop a bitch of a witch.    

An age-resistance 35mm print scanned onto a buffed 2K Blu-ray that extracts the best print elements to-date. The AVC encoded, 1080p, Blu-ray presents Stephen Tung Wai’s picture in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. A fine-tooth comb through the celluloid couldn’t unveil any major issue with the 88 Films release. Colors are richly grafted within the sabulous surfaces that are exceedingly defined with delimited, shadow-creating depth. Decoding speeds average around 35Mbps on a BD50, securing categorical choiceness amongst other releases and formats (that is until the potential 4K release). The release comes packed with four audio options to explore: The original Cantonese DTS-HD master audio 2.0 mix, a Cantonese DTS-HD 2.0 home video mix, an English DTS-HD 5.1 master audio dub, and an English DTS-HD 2.0 dub. Between the variated audio mixes, we preferred the original Cantonese DTS-HD 2.0 due to its cadence with the image and welcoming exactness through the lossless compression process. You can make do with the other three options, but the fidelity is much better with the original mix and only anti-subtitle sectarians would be pleased with an English dub. English subtitles are optional and synch well the dialogue but be prepared to speed read as the pacing is quick much like the dialect. Software special features include an audio commentary with Hong Kong film experts Frank Djeng and Marc Walkow, an alternate, standard definition Taiwanese cut of the film with alternate score, an interview with director Stephen Tung Wai, image gallery, and trailer. Endowed with a limited-edition, cardboard slipcover, the dark green Blu-ray snapper has newly illustrated, front cover artwork by Manchester graphic designer and 88 Films resident artist Sean Longmore, which is also on the cardboard O-slip. The reversible cover art has a reproduction of the original Hong Kong poster art. Stuffed in the insert is a mini-folded poster of Longmore’s front cover and a disc art, a scene moment captured in spherical rotunda, of the opening sequence. Available with a regional playback limited to A and B, the 88 Films release is not rated and has a runtime of 88 minutes. ‘Magic Cop, perhaps, wasn’t the sole proprietor of influence but certainly had a black talisman plying hand in the substrata of more Western favorites like “Big Trouble in Little China” and is a crucial cornerstone in representing the best of the Hong Kong Golden Age of cinema.

No Two-Bit Magician In ‘Magic Cop” on Blu-ray!  

The Stillness, the Quiet, and the Darkness evokes EVIL to Home In. “Skinamarink” reviewed! (Acorn Media International / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

The Kids Aren’t All Right in “Skinamarink” on Blu-ray!

A night of silence is disturbed when a young boy, Kevin, falls down the stairs of his two story home.  Rushed to the hospital to return to the same silence-soaked house, the restless boy and his sister Kaylee search for their dad who has suddenly vanished from his bedroom.  Doors, windows, and even the bathroom toilet has strangely disappeared right from sight.  Feeling scarred under the cover of isolated darkness, the siblings head downstairs to sleep on the couch softly lit b0 the fluorescent glow of the television set.  As they watch old cartoons, crayon, and build with large Legos, while catching a few ZZZs in between, strange noises resonate through the home, floor based objects are found stuck onto the walls and ceilings, and a twisted, omnipresent voice slips the siblings commands that exposes them the darkness from within the house.

Schismatically different from any other spine-taut chills ever experienced before, Kyle Edward Ball’s written-and-directed 2022 Shudder exclusive “Skinamarink” is no joyful and innocent children’s song in the filmmaker’s debut feature film.  Based and expanded upon Ball’s 2020 short film entitled “Heck,” viewers will be enveloped and swallowed by the very core of childhood fears that plays like a fever dream, or a distant nightmare, where faces are a blur, spatial direction is nothing more than theoretical concept, and the voices around us are distorted, muffled, and cold.  “Skinamarink” offers little warmth under constant blanket of darkness and leaves no room for hope when parents are removed from the picture.  What’s Ball leaves behind is primordial and innate terror that rarely can be seen straightforward and lucid.  The Canadian picture, which was filmed in Ball’s childhood home in Alberta, is a micro-budget production of ERO Picture Company, distributed by Bayview Entertainment, Shudder, and IFC Midnight, crowdfunded by Seed & Spark contributors and produced by “Texas Road” producer, Dylan Pearce.

Shot over the course of a week’s time, “Skinamarink” works more like CCTV footage recording the static surroundings within the scope of the lens.  The cast is small, rarely visible, and when visible, they are often obscured or never directly focused upon to mint atmospheric dread.  Two parents.  Two children.  A nuclear family becomes the objective of an omnipresent, ominous presence, but there are concerning questions about the integrity of the family that Ball incites with clues of broken household.  Father and mother briefly make an appearance, or with one of them just their voice, throughout the course of the night, restricted their attendance exclusively around the children’s perspective that makes viewers shrink and become engulfed in childish fears – sometimes they are adult fears as well – of the dark and of being separated from parents.  Lucas Paul and Dali Rose Tetreault as kids Kevin and Kaylee kill their seldomly seen performances with the patter of little feet running through the house and up-and-down stairs, their soft, angelic voices whispering to each other and calling out for their father, and when briefly in frame, or at least the back of their heads, they manage to complete the succinct shot just in the way Ball intends to secrete fear from our every pore amongst the quiet and stillness.  “Skinamarink” is not a character-driven film in the least as Ball cherishes a chilling atmospheric horror so father (Ross Paul, Lucas’s real life dad) and mother (Jamie Hill, “Grotesque”) receive what essentially is cameo roles to establish a feeling of lost when they’re gone and are perhaps the easiest roles the two actors have ever taken and turn out to be the most eerily effective on screen and over the audio track.

“Skinamarink” experiments more with surroundings, audio and visual senses, and common inborn anxieties rather than progressed by traditional methods of character dynamics and that is where the film will be conflict-ridden and divisive amongst the niche group of diehard horror fans.  General audiences will find “Skinamarink” to be a bore without much popcorn pageantry to keep short-attention spans entertained and a disembodied villain.  Slow burn horror usually has an elevated element to it and Kyle Edward Ball certainly incorporates an open for interpretation access door for the deep-dive genre conspiratorialists to work overtime on reasoning and explaining “Skinamarink” to the masses still trying to process what they just experienced themselves after watching the film.  Theories will run amok with the most prominent being Kevin’s fall that reduced him to a coma state and what we experience is all in Kevin’s conscious-cracked cerebrum trying attempting interpret, at best guess, the dissolution of mom and dad’s relationship.  Again, this is just a theory as Ball aims for ambiguity to fester fathomable, one-solution explanations.   Perhaps in a type of narrative the world is not ready for, but in my opinion, “Skinamarink” fills in what is void from modern day horror, a uniquely fresh and chance-taking pervasive eidolon scare package to revitalize genre numbness with slow burn phobias.

An original parapsychological paralyzer, “Skinamarink” arrives on a Blu-ray home video courtesy of Acorn Media International, the acquired UK distribution company of RLJ Entertainment.  Presented in a widescreen aspect ratio of 2.39:1, the AVC encoded BD25 sustains a purposefully intended lo-fi A/V feature, set to the date tune of 1995, much like when SOV quality films were abundantly popular because of their cost value and accessibility.  If you’re expecting depth of detail, you won’t get it from “Skinamarink’s” dense static approach that all but eliminates object definition.  Delineation is scarce to an effective scare tactic to which Ball tones the film; yet, the static is not, for lack of a better word, static as the current changes within the blips, increasing and decreasing visibility for desired poltergeist potency, if poltergeist is what we want to call it.  Set entirely in nighttime, sleepy home, the basking glow of tube television is the only semblance of color that emits a faint blue luminous while antiquated cartoons provide flat caricature coloring.  Certain scenes are shot in obvious night vision with the spherical focus that becomes unnatural in the frame, but there’s really nothing natural about Ball’s auteur style.  The lo-fi style choice continues into the English DTS-HD 5.1 surround mix that doesn’t exercise every channel.  Instead, we’re back to canned content with intentional hissing, popping, and distorted tracks.  Aside from a couple of innate audio recordings of a squeaking closet door, all the other ambient audio and dialogue is done after the fact in post-production to be rendered appropriately misshaped and muddled.  There’s also no score, retaining realism of a hushed house sound design to pay heed to soft footsteps and other delicate and mortifying milieu noises.  Depending on your audio setup, subtitles may be your friend here as the whispers are so low, they’re nearly inaudible.  There are a handful of scenes that have burned in English subtitles for that very reason, but full menu English captioning is available too for the minute amount of dialogue.  Special features only include an audio commentary track with the director and director of photography Jamie McRae.  Acorn Media’s release mirrors the U.S.’s RLJ Entertainment’s Blu-ray with the exception of a slightly thicker Blu-ray snapper. The front cover denotes essentially what to expect in the future, a low-resolution and a blue-toned, dark, inverted screenshot image of the young boy; this scene also translates to the disc art.  Encoded with a region B playback, “Skinamarink” comes UK certified 15 for strong horror and sustained threat in its 100-minute runtime.  Take my advice:  there’s nothing quite like “Skinamarink” outside the experimental gallimaufry but it’s sleepy time nature should not be viewed at the late-night weary hours or else it’ll lull you into a nightmare of your own.

The Kids Aren’t All Right in “Skinamarink” on Blu-ray!

Heart and Body Reunited Forges Immortal EVIL! “Witchtrap” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Get Caught in the “Witchtrap” on Blu-ray!

A motley crew of parapsychologists and private security are hired to investigate the haunted house of powerful warlock and accused serial killer Avery Lauter.  Before the graveyard side home can be turned into a themed Bed & Breakfast by Lauter’s inheriting next of kin, the team is brought in to eradicate the infamous house of any kind of malevolent spirits after the mysterious and gruesome death of a magician who agreed to stay at the house as a test run of the level of malignance.  When the investigators make contact with a confident and evil Lauter, the warlock tricks them by using the team’s physical medium to murder a far-too-inquisitive investigator one-by-one in order to finish a satanic ritual he started before his death that will make him immortal.  It’s up to non-believer, and wise-cracking, private detective Tony Vincente to make sense of the murders and put an end of Lauter’s reign of terror from beyond the grave before it’s too late.

A necromantically-charged slaughterhouse of a film, “Witchtrap” is the 1989 phantasmal thriller of the omnipresent, omni-powerful dead versus a group of clueless living always one-step behind in attempting to make sense of everything.  Also known as “The Haunted” or “The Presence,” the Kevin S. Tenney written-and-directed film succeeds the director’s cult classic “Night of the Demons” and Tenney’s debut film “Witchboard,” which is not a sequel to “Witchtrap” despite a similar title and the hiring of some of the same actors.  Shot in Fairfield, California on a 400K budget, the independence production showcases topnotch gore and pyro effects from makeup artist Judy Yonemoto (“Dance or Die,” “The Newlydeads”) and special effects supervisor Tassilo Baur (“House,” “DeepStar Six”) and is produced by Tenney alongside Daniel Duncan under Mentone Pictures; Duncan also produced Tenney’s “Brain Dead” later in the filmmaker’s career.  Cinema Plus, represented by executive producer Ryan Carroll, serves as the presenting company.

Tenney has been noted saying “Witchtrap” was a gift for the actors who have stuck with him over the years, playing pivotal parts in his student films that pole-vaulted his career into being a cult horror director.  “Witchtrap’s” leading man, James W. Quinn, has worked with Tenny since grade school and was cast in a principal role in “Witchboard” as well as in a minor role in “Night of the Demons.”  Quinn’s Tony Vincente is by far the best dialogue deliverer of the principal ensemble with a smartass ex-cop script that highlights Quinn to be the good guy but while being a complete jerk.  The rest of the cast is painfully flat, with little-to-no inflections, and a severe lack of dynamism or gesticulation that, despite how interesting their character backgrounds are, are just too dull with monotone script-reading.  “Night Visitor’s” Kathleen Bailey is likely the second best to liven up her character of Whitney O’Shea, the religious and reluctant physical medium with shark thrashing spams every time Avery Lauter channels her for to violently wipe out a parapsychologist team member, spearheaded by an eager ghost trapper Dr. Agnes Goldberg (Judy Tatum, “Witchboard”) and her mental medium husband Felix (Rob Zapple), and the accompanying private security forces that also include Vincente’s partner Levi Jackson (Clyde Talley II) and boss man Murphy (Jack W. Thompson).  Dangerous ambitions and irrational greed stir the pot between each of these groupings that side with personal stake over the safety of their existence that make for better character building underneath the rickety performance framing.  And, of course, we can’t neglect mentioning Linnea Quigley bringing up the rear with her rear as the bleached blonde, cropped seater topped A/V technician that can capture ghosts with her ectoplasm detecting gear.  Quigley, and also Judy Tatum, provide a bit of T&A, especially Quigley with an eye-popping full frontal in the prime of her career.  The remaining cast includes Hal Havins (“Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama”) as the creepy groundskeeper and J.P. Luebsen (“Witchboard”) as the cap-wearing and wild-eyed bearded warlock Avery Lauter. 

Oddly enough, what makes “Witchrap” entertainingly great, is Tenney’s attractive and amusing dialogue.  Between the quips, banters, diatribes, and the depth conversations, Tenney formulates a dialogue that can match or even surpass the outstanding special effects that course through the narrative.  Without Vincente’s brutal mockery of the entire paranormal research and investigation scheme as well as an unmercifully, nonstop degrading position toward his contentious boss, left with only the tedious prosaic to hear, “Witchtrap” would be one of those great-gore, dull-dialogue features that force your hand to fast-forward to the good parts in order to not pass out asleep from the in between drag.  Instead, “Witchtrap” is 80’s cult-horror treasure, comfortably embedded somewhere between the cinematic Earth’s lithosphere and asthenosphere layers just waiting for someone to unearth and dust off its sheening crimson colored cabochon.  Definitely not elevated horror that makes one think about the auteur intended message, the feature remains true to Tenney’s previous like-mad credits with an outlandish and mortally fair game theurgy that’s surface-level eye candy and audibly dulcet, despite the audio recording snafu that sent the entire dialogue track to the post-production recording studio.  Though producers and marketing attempted to cash-in on “Witchboard’s” moderate success with a similar, familiar title, “The Haunted” and “The Presence” are no more than generic designation fodder that lacked tremendous flavor; “Witchtrap’s” a kitschy and blunt title that works and literally estimates what audiences should and will expect although Avery Lauter is a Warlock and not necessarily a witch per se. 

A part of the Eric Wilkinson’s throwback video club and Rewind Collection series from MVD Visual, “Witchtrap” arrives a fully restored, high-definition Blu-ray, presented on an AVE encoded, 1080p, BD50 and in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio.  This transfer essentially mirrors the Vinegar Syndrome release a few years back that had reinstated many of the MPAA cuts the general public hasn’t laid eyes for nearly 30 years until 2016.  Picture quality retains a fresh, renewed look without compromising the natural characteristics, such as grain, of the 35 mm celluloid.  There are sporadic scenes that slip due to generational loss but, for the most part, a solid 2K scan restoration of the interpositive. The English LPCM 2.0 mono track is post-production concomitant due to an inexperienced sound mixer that resulted overbearing hum throughout the dialogue. ADR was introduced in post subsequently diminishing depth and creating an artificial sounding mix with a silver lining being a near perfect match for actor emotionality, inflections, and synchronization. Optional English subtitles are available. Bonus material includes a commentary track with director Kevin Tenney, producer Dan Duncan, Cinematographer Tom Jewett, and actor Hal Havins. Also included are interviews with Kevin Tenney, Linnea Quigley, Tom Jewett, and Tassilo Baur who more-or-less say a lot of the same retrospective accounts regarding “Witchtrap’s” sound issues, pranks on Kevin Tenny, cheap film hints outside of L.A., and how constrained the budget was. This release also comes with the edited VHS version at 92-minutes, same as the Blu-ray, a photo gallery, and the original trailer. Physical features include a sweet throwback cardboard O-Slipcover of the original poster compressed inside a 1-inch, matte red border that’s back and front. The O-slip covers a clear Blu-ray case that holds a reversible Rewind Collection cover art that’s roughly the same as slipcover poster art with cropped out credits for a vivid red filled, white-lined title. On the other side of the cover is alternative European cover art of a puffy white cloud merged with a demonic face hovering over a white picket fenced house, reminiscent of the MGM “Return of the Living Dead” or the original Columbia “Fright Night” DVD covers. Inside the case is a folded mini-poster of the factory-wrapped front cover. MVD’s release is rated R and comes region free. “Witchtrap” epitomizes restless ghost syndrome with a head coup de grace motif and is a seance that conjures potent witty dialogue to hoist Kevin Tenney’s third feature up to another plane of existence.

Get Caught in the “Witchtrap” on Blu-ray!

We Are All Just Playing Characters in an EVIL Movie! “Virtual Reality” reviewed! (Artsploitation Films – Kino Lorber / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Believe Everything You See.  “Virtual Reality” on Blu-ray at Amazon.com

A horror movie about a supernatural Celtic killer has just wrapped production and goes into post.  The cast and crew what to succeed at all costs, not only in the movie but also in their stagnant careers.  However, the director, Matias, craves fame and legacy to the point of committing his soul to whatever it takes to cement his film in acclaimed success.  Matias and the arcane producer form a pact with a diabolical computer program and artificial intelligence that’ll bind their movie to esteemed infamy as well as bind their cast and crew to their characters.  When Matias invites select cast and crew to a private screening at his home, they realize the movie has scenes of their characters that weren’t shot during principal photography and that whatever happens to their characters in the movie, being chased by the Celtic killer, will happen to them in real life.  The only way to survive the movie is to last the full 90-minute runtime.

Hailing from Argentina, the South American country that brought us “Terrified” and the “Plaga Zombie” films, comes another tale of terror with the metaverse horror “Realidad Virtual,” aka “Virtual Reality.”  The 2006 “Director’s Cut” and 2009 “Breaking Nikki” shot caller Findling continues his traipse through psychotronic land with a story that couldn’t be more relevant today than if artificial intelligence synthesized the narrative itself out of binary ones and zeros.  The script comes from Findling and cowriter Lourdes Prado Méndez, an Argentinian romance novelist.  Having virtually no romance in “Virtual Reality” whatsoever, the 2021 film stretches Méndez’s range into crafting characters with a foot in two planes of existence while under immense fear and pressure to survive a supernatural slashening.  “Virtual Reality” is produced by Gabriel Lahaye under Lahaye Media, who has supported and collaborated on a number of Findling’s previous films, such as “Breaking Nikki” and “Impossible Crimes,” and is also a production of Wit Producciones, Cine Argentino, APIMA, FilmSharks, and INCAA of Argentina.

The story circles around a selectively small and independent film cast and crew finishing up a concluding scene of another to-be-forgotten horror movie by director, Matias (Guillermo Berthold), who has had multiple failed films before now.  Yet, the production team remains positive, hopefully the film with jumpstart careers as desperately expressed through the first act, especially with the film’s final girl star Guadalupe (Vanesa González, “Hypersomnia”), or Guad as she’s called by her friends, and her director’s assistant brother Pablo (Santiago Magariños).  Berthold plays the sneaky-sadistic director about as a well as most with a fervent penchant to do anything for his creative filmic art even if that means colluding with a shady, mysterious producer in César Bordón (“She Wolf”) whose performance’s obscured or lack of purpose is due in part to the character’s flimsy connection to the diabolical computer program.  Bordón can’t help but just be an inhuman human, violent by necessity instead of being violent with a purpose.  The producer seeks success for every single one of his films with a subsequent plotted course for the next idea – whether be a sequel or a brand new story – yet his connection to the network of evil of unexplained runes, sporadic pixilation, and artificial intelligent adaptations that can re-edit recordings into a new and inexplicable account of the story has been sorely severed in regard to understanding his background and his motivation of mortal sacrifice for movie fame.  Other connects that were left on the cutting room for, so to say, were between the siblings Guada and Pablo and their dying mother in what I suspect was an attempt to shove the sister and brother some sympathy, clearing the way for the two to be the unambiguously heroic duo, but the scene with their mother on her deathbed offered little-to-no compassion, producing a gelatinous lasting effect in what was a more visual one-off of two children spending the time they have left with their mother versus an incentive or arc scene that would hopefully rally up character expectations to look after each other.  “Virtual Reality” rounds out the cast with Frederico Bal (“Impossible Crimes”), Francisco González Gil (“El último zombi”), Sofia Del Tuffo (“Luciferina”), and Christian Sancho in a Johnny Depp inspired dressed part of a self-centered actor with a suspected pill addiction. 

As far as plot designs go, “Virtual Reality” has an interesting concept that involves filming two different harrowing situations and joining them into one parallel plight with the actors reacting more to the events happening on the television screen, which in itself becomes living, breathing character of sinisterism, rather than what’s happening outside the box in the present.  Both realities are virtually live and in play for their very being and whatever happens in one, affects the other.  “Virtual Reality’s” state of duality, not only in character, but also in linear lines of an alternate universe with lifeline connections, is smart, fresh, and terrorizing to know that your life depends on an A.I. created character coursing through a maze for their very lives.  This mirror-meta-effect continues to evolve as the story plays out that leave survivors questioning reality and questioning their individuality of some higher force that has used them like some free-thinking avatar for filmdom fame.  This is where “Virtual Reality” starts to become complicatedly crisscrossing as instances of a distorted reality spiral down a rabbit hole of what we thought was true.  Findling is nonapologetic for his layered universes that spins and wraps a narrative around another in what is a show of forced fantasy subsisting in that gray area of reality.  The Celtic slasher storyline is just a sublevel to the story’s higher level view that defines greed and worth amongst people longings for more and also models itself to reflect that thin line some people cross between reality and fantasy, as foreshadowed early on into the film during the shooting of the final girl scene when method actor Julian gets into the headspace of his Celtic killer character and really starts to strangle Guada in a climactic moment.  By the finale, you’re comprehensible pencil might have wandered off the connective dot trail in trying to see the bigger picture of Hindley’s meta-movie but “Virtual Reality” is innovative tech horror that just requires a smidgen of tweaking to be impeccable.

2020.  That was the last time I reviewed an Artsploitation Films title.  The long 3-year hiatus was due in part of King Lorber purchasing the boutique Philadelphia label that specialized in bringing independent global horror to the U.S.  Artsploitation Films and Kino Lorber continue that pursuit with Hernán Findling’s “Virtual Reality” from Argentinian now on a Stateside Blu-ray disc courtesy of the joint label.  The AVC encoded, 1080p High-Definition, BD25 is presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio.  Cinematically, the format storage is able to capture the true quality of the image with hardly any compression artefacts.  There’s not a ton of visual augmenting but what’s presented is a draining of color to a near black-and-white image with pigmented primary color lighting to give the scenes a dash of color that’s in contrast to the moderate-to-heavy in-movie, trope-heavy lack of lighting to create deeper shadows for that gloomy horror movie effect of interior trapped victims running for their lives in the dark.  Two Spanish language audio options are available on the release, a DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio surround sound and a DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0. The 5.1 track has good balance between the ambient, soundtrack, and dialogue tracks albeit a little heavy on the score to clutter, at times, a clear exchange, especially when everyone’s yelling at the television set.  Other than that, no technical issues throughout the multi-channel output. English subtitles run at startup but can be turned off.  The unrated, region A encoded release has a runtime of 84 minutes but doesn’t come with a menu for special features; however, there is the film’s trailer and, if you stay tuned after the credits, there’s a bonus scene where you, the viewer, becomes the star of your own movie.  Artsploitation Films is back, baby!  Courtesy of Kino Lorber, “Virtual Reality” is barely tapped meta-horror, that has become all the craze nowadays, and Hernán Findling unboxes that fine line between real and unreal to only merge them together to be one and the same in a twisted interpretation of when art imitates life. 

Believe Everything You See.  “Virtual Reality” on Blu-ray at Amazon.com