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

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!

Prudish EVIL Takes on the Arcade in “Joysticks!” reviewed! (MVD Visual Rewind Collection / Blu-ray)

Get Your Herky-Jerkey Hands on “Joysticks’ on MVD Blu-ray!

Arcade manager Jefferson Bailey runs his grandfather’s business like a nonstop party lined with token-operated video game machines, stocked with a complete concession counter, and welcoming beautiful women to enjoy not only the endless entertainment of the arcade machines at all hours but also to gush over his handsome, easygoing demeanor. With an expert gamer and a newly hired dweeb helping to run the arcade, Bailey has a lot of free time to enjoy the perks of popularity until a wealthy businessman, Joseph Rutter, continues to have a hard time keeping his entitled daughter away from the arcade and Bailey which he considers both to be corrupting the town’s youth. Rutter, his two bumbling nephews, and a peevish gamer try everything in their power to shut down the arcade but Bailey, the employees, and the lucrative patronages won’t subside without a fight, even if that means settling everything on a single video game battle.

An obscure and forgotten teen sex comedy from the early 1980s, “Joysticks” is a celebration of the coin-operated video game at the height of the arcade’s heyday. Director Greydon Clark (“Satan’s Cheerleaders,” “Without Warning”) helms the Al Gomez, Mickey Epps, and Curtis Burch screenplay with ton of sex appeal, a display of 8-bit gaming graphics, and a cheesy, chunky storyline of big, bad entitlement versus the small, teen-run business of fun, sex, and videogames. The 1983 film was shot in Los Angeles and had introduced to the big screen not only a few of the more popular game titles – Pac-Man, Millipede, Pole Position, Naughty Boy, and Defender 2 – of the period but also introduced a new game with Midway’s Satan’s Hollow. “Joysticks” is a Greydon Park Production with associate producers in Curtis Burch, Daryl Kass (“Darkman”), and George Perkins (“Teen Wolf”) with also Clair Farley and Raylan D. Jensen serving as executive producers.

Headlining “Joysticks” is legendary, recognizable actor of “Walking Tall” and “The Shadow of Chikara,” Joe Don Baker, as the gruffly, arrogant suit Joseph Rutter going up against the then arcading-entrenched youth, represented primarily by actor-turned-director Scott McGinnis (“Last Gasp”) as the fun-loving arcade manager Jefferson Bailey. Baker fits into that stereotypical group of the out of touch older generation who doesn’t understand new and fascinating entertainment technology that attracts young people and, as he would understand it, these arcades are nothing more than the exterminating flame that attracts the unsuspecting moth. Bailey makes for a good fun while upholding certain convictions that doesn’t entail him being the villain of the story; those attributes fall not only into Baker’s lap but also Jonathan Gries as the eccentric gothic gang-leader King Vidiot. The “Fright Night 2” and “TerrorVision” actor, who outside the horror realm is well known for being Uncle Rico to the titular “Napolean Dynamite,” sports blue-red hair, cladded in leather, and has a hold over four equally garbed and dyed-colored women as his subjects to his peculiar behavior around the arcade. Initially Gries felt like an integrated part of the clientry until miffed by the arcade’s resident joystick and buttons master of gameplay, Dorfus (Jim Greenleaf, “Evil Speak”) in a one-on-one challenge. If “Joysticks” is a film about the joys of an arcade hall that’s precious to protect from overly concerned parents, the Dorfus character is pretty much the antithesis of that theme having once been the high school thin valedictorian now a sloppy, flatulating, and overweight gamer. Another character that doesn’t quite fit into the equation is the nerdy Eugene (Leif Green) whose character predates “Revenge of the Nerds” that released a year later but didn’t quite absorb into the fold of the only other companioning misfit in Dorfus. Where Eugene succeeds, with the help of Green’s performance, is the bumbling dumb-smart guy whose innocence instills more trouble for himself than anything else, especially with the braless women around him with Kym Malin (“Weird Science”), Kim G. Michel, Becky LeBleau (“School Spirit”), Lynda Wiesmeier (“Avenging Angel”), Morgan Lofting, and Corinne Bohrer (“Zapped!”). The supporting cast fills out with John Diehl (“Stargate”), John Voldstad (“Leprechaun”), and Logan Ramsey (“Doctor Hackenstein”).

As far as in the canon of 80’s teen sex comedies, “Joysticks” fits the bill as a nonpolitically correct cinematic lark with all the goofy and raunchy bells and whistles that come standard with these types of movies but there’s something missing from the ’83 feature that doesn’t quite put the categorical entry at the same quintessential high level as “Revenge of the Nerds,” “Private School,” or “Porky’s.” The narrative trajectory often stays in stagnant territory, or in more detailed terms a lopsidedness, instead of a back-and-forth, tit-for-tat jostling contest that hardly challenges the opposition to face dire straits. Also, too often does “Joysticks’s” jokes fall flat, perhaps the lost in flavor is due in part to the film’s 40-year-old comedic gags, that mostly reoccurs with Dorfus passing horrible gas or Eugene stumbling into an unlikely sexpot to his disadvantage. There is substance in a deeply rooted character arc with the once pro-level Jefferson Bailey unable to play his beloved coin-operated machines because of a traumatic event involving a past love of his life that results in him trembling, sweating, and getting into his own headspace but that, too, is obstructed by the warmed-over objective that generally has a loveless love-interest in a mostly male dominated principal cast, a short-fused motivation reasoning for most characters, and a rough patch polish, such as with that ear-throbbing main theme song, that tries to compensate with wacky situational and sexual archetypes which are not unpalatable to say the least but can’t keep “Joysticks” from respawning after all its lives have been used up.

Catalogued as number 58th on the MVD Rewind Collection banner, in conjunction with the Multicom Entertainment Group, “Joysticks” receives special package design that will surely please fans of older video game consoles and cartridges, but the packaging keeps with the Rewind Collection overall theme that is a testament to its label.  The AVC encoded, single-layer BD25 presents the fill in full 1080p HD and in an anamorphic widescreen aspect ratio of 1.78:1, based off a 2015 2K scan and restoration of the 25mm film elements.  This 2015 transfer is likely from the Scorpion Releasing limited number release from nearly a decade ago, licensed to MVD for broader and more easily accessible distribution.  Though an older transfer, the color saturation still pops albeit some heftier grainy frames that stumbles the overall consistency from time-to-time.  This ultimately also affects the details to an extent, especially on medium shots where the action is pulled away from the camera to get a wider view.  Closeups and extreme closeups look better with tighter detail and better contrast.  The English LPCM 2.0 mono is the only available audio track.  The lossless format provides ample volume and is a real pedigree of the original audio recording.  Dialogue has most a firm grasp on the layer design with no inaudible inadequacies but can often be anemic in more noisy settings, such as the arcade where bleeps, bloops, and other video game noises invade the audio field and dilute distinction and depth.  Legion’s “Joysticks” theme track also renders palely in his cheesy metaphorical lyrics that mix sex with video game playing, even if as appropriate as it may be to the context.  English subtitles are available for selection.  Special features include an archival feature length commentary and interview with director Greydon Clark but also has a brand-new roundtable commentary with MVD’s director of acquisition Eric D. Wilkinson, Cereal at Midnight host Heath Holland, and Diabolik DVD’s Jesse Nelson.  There’s a short film “Coin Slots” which is a faux “Joysticks” trailer that costars Eric D. Wilkinson and directed by Youtuber and producer Newt Wallen.  MVD’s physical presence of “Joysticks” is where the fun is at with an Atari themed orange slipcover with boxed in picture of sex-comedy appeal poster art, a more slimdown version design that’s more attuned to the MVD Rewind Collection look for the cover art in the clear Blu-ray Amaray case, and a Blu-ray disc pressed with the coloring and markings of an Atari game cartridge.  A more complete version of the cartridge look is on the reverse side of the reverse cover art, preferably for this reviewer to mix up the designs between slipcover and cover art.  A folded, back-and-front illustrated mini-poster of both cover arts is housed in the inside the case insert.  The region free release has a runtime of 88 minutes and is rated R. 

Last Rites: The packaging alone is worth the cost of this inexplicably obscure and quaintly waxen teen sex-comedy that now breathes new life on a more accessible high-definition Blu-ray release from MVD Visual!

Get Your Herky-Jerkey Hands on “Joysticks’ on MVD Blu-ray!

Headstrong EVIL Bedeviled by the Past and the Younger Generation. “Peacock” reviewed! (Indiepix Unlimited / Blu-ray)

“Peacock” on Indieflix Unlimited Blu-ray!

Unable to fit into The Foundation’s draconian conducts of an in-home professional caregiver, the organization decides to place Anna into the isolated home of Sarel Cilliers, a once prominent South African theologist aged into a feeble old man with prim and proper, religious convictions and living on the edge of a psychotic break.  Anna finds her hands are full with the demanding and stubborn Sarel and his almighty morality but his life’s work and past, strewn about his house as Sarel ceaselessly reopens boxes upon boxes of old files to study, draws in Anna as it strangely feels familiar to her as well as raising internal concerns about Sarel’s esteemed history.  The deeper she digs the more Anna falls into a psychosexual fixation that parallel and merge into Sarel’s own delusional state, soon the two share common afflictions of masked followers and surreal, terrifying imagery of a subjugated past that hasn’t loosened its traumatizing grip on them yet.

A psychological thriller that aims to suppress and shame youthful desire while simultaneously manifesting guilt as ghosts from an older generation’s sordid past at the behest of righteous expectations and a patriarchal society, “Peacock” is a strangely transfixing mental and sexual tug-a-war horror-thriller full of emblematic evocations and provocations from director Jaco Minaar.  Minaar’s debut 2022 feature film, under the native title of “Pou” from South Africa, is cowritten alongside David Cornwell in what has become the duo’s third collaborative project and is the first South African film to employ an intimacy coordinator for the strong sexual content scenes crucial to Anna’s storyline as well as perhaps a few bathing scenes with the older Sarel.  The Gothically-charged horror is a financial production of The Ergo Company with the organization’s Dumi Gumbi and Catharina Weinek, who produced “The Tokoloshe,” serving as co-producers alongside David Cornwell. Fever Dream Pictures, Monolith Film, and Indigenous Film Distribution are co-productions of the picture.

The principal pair of Anna and Sarel, played by South Africa Television actress, “Dam’s” Tarryn Wyngaard, and longtime actor Johan Botha, are representational characters in numerous ways.  Sarel is the established, iron-fisted patriarchy of yore having come to the end of his rope in life with his past transgressions, ones that represent heavily in the socio-political air of South Africa in decades ago, finally catching up to him in the form of a sort of indeterminable dementia.  Anna, on the other hand, is symbolic of youth, desire, and itching for liberty from a repressive system, such as The Foundation that houses young women, supposedly orphans, to be raised subservient and attentive but Anna’s regarded taboo lifestyle clashes with The Foundation’s, as well as the theologian Sarel’s, archaic belief system and so Anna then goes on this obstacle-laden journey of self-discovery that’s historically painful as well as excitingly new on the horizon as she meets Jean Basson (Ruan Wessels), son of Sarel’s house call doctor (Alida Theron), and whom both are virtually a mirror of Anna and Sarel on a lesser intense level.  Wyngaard and Botha earnestly stand firm as individualistic, idealistic characters butting heads to a culminating point of surreal transition of power.  Liza Van Deventer and Nicola Hanekom costar. 

“Peacock” isn’t a knock-your-socks off, popcorn thriller with edge of your seat terror and special effects nor does it claim to be.  Instead, “Peacock’s” fable tale is fashioned delicately out of South Africa’s rough transitioning between conflicting oppositions from, and set as the period in the film, of the 1980s dealing with Apartheid.  From Anna’s atypical of the times perspective, as an outcast young woman growing and maturing in an era in which the old, patriarchal ways of doing things are quickly dwindling, much like the deteriorating mind of Sarel, the young woman tussles externally and internally in trying to conform to the brittle status quo while that’s not subsiding without a fight, yet the desires inside of her are eager to express themselves in a sexual way.  The contrasting phasing out rigidity and the phasing in tolerance courses through a single conduit of uneasy, shared surrealism that frightening and confusing to them both but affects them differently; the ghastly images forces Anna to face her past while those same images torment Sarel like a type of Hell he has to relive over-and-over and that is what the house represents to Sarel, being caged in a purgatory state that parallels the actual peacock living encaged and screeching just outside of the house.  The peacock itself embodies Sarel’s daughter, an image kindred to that of Anne’s illicit lover at The Foundation, who he locked away in the attic for having an improper relationship with a young, black man, an archaic and unfounded taboo from South Afrikaners shamefully stubborn history of the racially segregating Apartheid akin to the historical racism of American culture.  In the end, it’s the overwhelming guilt that plagues us all in “Peacock’s” thematical version of Hell.

Streaming service Indiepix Unlimited is slowly, but surely, releasing their repertoire onto physical media venue.  Granted, these DVD and Blu-ray releases are not top-notch quality, being mostly encoded onto DVD-R and BD-R with very little special features to accompany, but still better suited for viewing than the inconsistent determinants of steaming. The AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, 25 gigabyte BD-R has sufficient storage to render a decently detailed feature that suffers little-to-no compression issues, presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Graded on a darker, bluer scale, “Peacock” does often have color reduction aspects that either is part of the story’s period approach or is a reproachable side effect of the writable disc, losing a richness to the black levels and leaning slightly more on a higher contrast. Details, too, appear smoother to a lesser degree but there are enough texture and tactile elements, such as the cracked leather of dusty old books, Sarel’s haggard and loosely wrinkled skin, or Anna’s striking dark features, to become swirled into its morose mixture of metaphors and surreal horror cerebralism. The Afrikaans language LPCM stereo 2.0 has lossless appeal that fills in the dual channel output quite substantially and with equipoise. Finding depth in a psychological thriller can be a tad be tricky to isolate the terrorizing trepidation trimmings of what’s beleaguering the mind and that can subdue the intended effect on the viewers. Dialogue is strongly delivered in the foreground of all other audio layers with the optional English subtitles available. The English subtitles are of European English translation and are without grammatical error; however, the pacing is at a breakneck speed. Other than the film’s theatrical trailer, the region A encoded, not rated, 89-minute Indiepix Unlimited release does not contain any bonus content. The traditional Blu-ray Amaray houses a lifeless in a monochrome-purple colored print out of Anna and a peacock feather over her eye. Inside is an advert of Peacock with a QR code and a disc pressed with a plain white circular sticker with the title in a font close to American Horror Story.

Last Rites: Noted having inspiration from Francisco Goya’s Black Paintings, the soul-swallowing torment of “Peacock’s” sundering, secluding visuals plays into the deteriorating psyche of forced solitude and the iniquitous guilt that eats away at our being, like an inhabiting demon, recognized in redux of South African sins that sees a trial by fire with a turning in the country’s tide.

“Peacock” on Indieflix Unlimited Blu-ray!

How Many Chickens Need to Have Their Throats Cut to Satisfying Ritualistic, Naked EVIL! “Voodoo Passion” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray)

Get Entranced by Full Moon’s “Voodoo Passion” Blu-ray!

Newly married Susan House travels to Haiti to join her consulate husband, Jack House, who has been stationed at the British Embassy.   Captivated by the Haitian voodoo religion and culture, Susan is eager to tour the island nation’s most ambiguous practice most don’t or will never understand all the while Jack’s naked and nymphomaniac Sister, Olga, makes forward, flirtatious advances toward her.  That fervor for voodooism and Olga’s point-blank seduction has seemingly incepted terrible nightmares of naked, animal sacrificial rituals and murder conducted beguilingly by a priestess in the form of Jack House’s native housekeeper, Inês.  When Susan awakes, the realism of her dreams afflicts her but her husband Jack and his colleague, a psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Pierre Barré swear there have been no police reported murders.  Night after night, Susan’s entranced nightmares continue to be vivid with murderous mysticism that’s slowly driving her mad in the land of voodoo. 

One of Jesus “Jess” Franco’s more bosom and bush erotic-thrillers, “Voodoo Passion” is nearly a fully naked runtime feature sprinkled with hints of the nation’s cultural religion.  The 1977 released, German Production, also known by the titles “”Call of the Blonde Goddess” or “Der Ruf der blonden Göttin,” was less about his own stylistic substance and auteur stamp and more about spasmatic, gyrating nudity under rhythmic bongo beats for the Spanish sleaze and exploitation genre filmmaker.   The gratuitously sexed-up, multinational feature is penned by the Switzerland born, sexploitation and adult genre screenwriter Erwin C. Dietrich under one of his pen names, Manfred Gregor.  Dietrich also produces the film amongst a substantially historical collaborative effort between himself and Franco over the course of the late 70s to early 80s.  Nestor Film Producktion serves as the production company, filming entirely not in Haiti but in the beautifully scenic and old-world allure of the seaside capital of Lisbon, Portugal.  

Lots of hot body action in this beat-driven, voodooism thriller primarily between a trio of character-diverse, titillating ladies and peppered with peripheral nude women and men tribals engaged in a ceaseless native, ritual thrusting, pulsing, and shaking trance dance.  “Voodoo Passion” grips itself around the rags-to-riches character of Mrs. Susan House in what is a matron-look for Spanish actress Ada Tauler (“The Sexy Horrible Vampire,” “Love Camp”) brought to Haiti at the behest of her British consult, newlywed husband Jack House, played by the stony-faced and “Eugenie” and “Pieces” American actor Jack Taylor able to swing both thrills and feminine frills in his films.  While Tauler’s doesn’t shy away from full nudity of Susan House’s fever dream state, the actress pales in comparison to the other two-thirds who are more engaged in sexual promiscuity and the liberating fervor of ethnic ceremony.   Those two actresses are “Caged Women’s” Karine Gambier as the nymphomaniac sister of Jack House and the face of most of “Voodoo Passion’s” physical marketing with French actress Muriel Montossé (“Cecilia”), under the more westernized stage name of Vicky Adams.  With a face and body like a model, Vicky Adams’s wild arm and stoic expression dance moves will hypnotize viewers entranced with the bongo tempo’s transfixing pomp, contributing to the film’s psychotronic premise of magical and religious rites, obfuscated nightmares, and, cue Austin Powers’s voice, murder.  Yeah, Baby!  “Voodoo Passion” has curves for days and in all different personas that keep things weirdly, but welcomingly, platonic on some level and not just an overly saturated sex-fest.  The film’s cast rounds out with Vitor Mendes (“Swedish Nympho Slaves”) and Ly Frey.

If asked to describe or give an opinion on “Voodoo Passion,” one would say cheekily the Jess Franco film is a thriller swathed in an eyeful of bosom and bush.  If the 4-minute introductory scene with voiceover exposition to the ceremonial voodoo band and half-naked native dancers wasn’t enough of a clue, Ada Tauler and Karine Gambier pull you right back into the soaking tub with their soapy, wet bodies as they immediately take a bath together upon meeting for the first time.  From that point on, the bosom and bush bar has been set and in that the thicket of unshaven landing strips, there’s a good story underneath about the mystics and misconceptions of Haitian voodooism.  Unfortunately, much of that story falls behind the showcases of skin, thrusting the principal ladies into the spotlight, overshadowing Jack Taylor’s performance as well as doing nothing for the poor psychologist in Vitor Mendes, and undercutting the very theme of ritual exploitation and misconduct which is half of “Voodoo Passion’s” concept.  The entirety is all quickly surmised in one fell swoop of exposition without the necessary leg work, that should have been carried out by either Susan House or the consul assistant Inês, of building evidence for or against the contrary exposed in the finale.  Then again, does gorgeous naked women dancing about really need a well-rounded plot?  All depends on the eyes of the beholder and these eyes needed that equilibrium!

Full Moon Features conjures up a Blu-ray for this Jess Franco thriller debased in sexploitation slather.  The AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, is housed on a single layer BD25, yet not encoded heavily with bonus content, “Voodoo Passion” is able to retain a full-bodied image from a remastered German original negative owned by producer Erwin C. Dietrich.  Vivid color saturation, contrast levels accompanying each other, natural looking skin tons, and the stunning detail render this Full Moon Features release the bees’ knees.  No signs of blocking or banding but some celluloid frames are slightly grainier than others that might be a result of age, wear, or the variable of film stock.  There is only a single audio option, an English LPCM 5.1 renders lossless audio, clearing each channel with ease, and delivering a rhythmic bongo drum beat with intensity.  Dialogue mirrors the richness despite the ADR track overtop the diverse nationalities’ native tongues.  There are no English subtitles, or any setup option for that matter, for this English only track release.  Special features included are an archival interview with Jess Franco with forced English subtitles Franco, Bloody Franco, a rare photo slideshow of images from the film, the German trailer, and a Jess Franco vintage trailer reel of most of his schlocky Eurosleaze fair.  What’s party treasured about these newly re-released films onto a new full HD transfer is Full Moon’s physical package redesigns that offer a cardboard slipcover with new illustrated, pinup-esque, art.  “Voodoo Passion” has a half-naked woman, presumably the nymphomaniac sister Olga, moaning in ecstasy while holding a…hand mirror?  Wonder if that should have been the champaign bottle Olga uses to, well, you know, pleasure herself with.   There’s also a striking, NSFW, Muriel Montossé pose in a scene from the film on the traditional Blu-ray Amaray front cover with additional explicit scenes on the backside.  The disc is pressed with the same slipcover illustration and there are no inserts inside the case.  Presented uncut and region free, this Full Moon release of Jess Franco’s vintage sleaze has a runtime of 86-minutes.   

Last Rites:  Another wholly impressive picture quality presentation of another unwholesome, softcore sexploitation by Full Moon Features, a friend to Haitian voodoo and you, the licentiously greedy viewer! 

Get Entranced by Full Moon’s “Voodoo Passion” Blu-ray!

Psychological and Psychotic EVIL Descend Upon a High School Boy! “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” reviewed! (Severin Films / 2-Disc 4K UHD and Blu-ray)

The 2-Disc UHD and Blu-ray Available for Pre-Order. Due to Release 5/28!

Orphaned Billy Lynch has raised by his Aunt Cheryl after his parents are tragically killed in a motor vehicle accident.  On the verge of his 17th birthday, Billy is ready to move on from his old life living under the overly caring Aunt to building a relationship with girlfriend Julia and possibly moving to Denver on a basketball scholarship, but the threatened Aunt Cheryl will do anything to keep Billy home, even if that means murder.  A brutal, stabbing incident of a local television repair man in their home leads to Detective Joe Carlson to suspect Billy as the main culprit and begins digging into the young man’s life that, coincidently, unearths the dead repair man had a homosexual relationship with Billy’s basketball coach.  Bigotry and intimidate course through Detective Carlson being as he prejudicially hounds and interrogatingly paints Billy as a gay, jealous lover without an ounce of hesitation.  Between his crazy Aunt and an intolerant cop, Billy’s life spirals dangerously out of his control. 

‘Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker,” also known as “Momma’s Boy,” “Night Warning,” or just “Nightmare Maker,” is the 1981 queer awareness and maturing suppression horror-thriller from “Bewitched” TV-series director William Asher.  Trying his hand at an edgier storyline with plenty of graphic violence and subversive themes, Asher helms the picture working off a script by a trio of debuting writers in Steven Breimer, Alan Jay Glueckman (“The Fear Inside”), and Boon Collins (“The Abducted”).  The American-made production brought considered taboo topics to the table when homosexuality was becoming more prominent in American culture in light of the AIDs epidemic and while the sexually transmitted disease has no part in this story, the derogatory fear of same-sex coupling is mercilessly present.  “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” is a Royal American Pictures production, distributed theatrically under Comworld Pictures, and is produced by screenwriter Steve Breimer and “Class of 1999” producer Eugene Mazzola.

Hardly does any film ever made have the perfect cast.  “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” does not reside in that genus of imperfection.  Every performance is spot on and fitting for this early 80’s video nasty, each actor playing the singular part ingrained into their act that deciphering if their behavior is actually like that in real life can be tremendously difficult and a completely disorienting.  The story focuses on Jimmy McNichol’s 17-year-old high schooler Billy Lynch who, until recently, has been living moderately comfortable under his Aunt Cheryl’s roof.  That is until school sis nearly over and the prospect of college and girls sows the seeds of springing him from his childhood home.  Though the story is supposed to be centrically Billy Lynch, it’s the quirky and unusuality of Susan Tyrrell as the undefined obsessed Aunt Cheryl with a thick undertone of sexual tension toward her nephew that just makes McNichol and Tyrrell’s scenes enormously uncomfortable.  The late actress, who starred in Richard Elfman’s “Forbidden Zone” and would later have roles in “Flesh+Blood” and “From a Whisper to a Scream,” could charm audiences with perky provocativeness and scare into submission with the ability to pivot to a crazed madwoman.  And while we’re slightly turned on and also frightened by Tyrrell, we’re completely in disgust of “The Delta Force’s” Bo Svenson’s one-train-thought, homophobic detective strongarming high school teens, coaches, and even his sergeant (Britt Leach, “Weird Science”) into being cocksure of his own short-sighted homicide theory driven by hate for homosexuality.  Marcia Lewis (“The Ice Pirates”), Steve Eastin (“Killers of the Flower Moon”), Julia Duffy (“Camp X-Ray”), and before he was a big superstar, a young Bill Paxton (“Aliens,” “Predator 2”) bring up the supporting cast rear.

For an early 80s video nasty, “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” is without a doubt intense and provocative with timeless themes that nearly table the trenchant violence for corrosive mental issues, systematic homophobia, and pressures of maturity.  The two prong antagonistic sides bear down on Billy Lynch and the one principal who still technically a child and learning all the facets of adulthood has his own good being thwarted by conventional adult role models of family and law enforcement.  Director William Asher, through the script, inlays a pro-queer avenue where the gay basketball coach displays immensely more wit, sense, and compassion than that of Aunt Cheryl and Detective Carlson, awarding the coach with more likeability and favor to come out of this ugly business unscathed.  Asher’s very intent on defining the personalities and the actors deliver tenfold under a surly environment of not only the brusque characters but also Cheryl’s home that is a tomb for one of Aunt Cheryl’s past lovers and is becoming a tomb for Billy who will either bend to Aunt Cheryl’s sexually-toned obsessiveness or die a terrible a death.  “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” also predates the infamous “Final Destination 2” log truck scene with its own that’s equally hard hitting and macabre, the latter also being expressed thoroughly throughout the entire narrative with a morose overhang that’s simmering to explode. 

Arriving onto a 2-disc UHD and Blu-ray set, “Butcher, Bake, Nightmare” is Severin’s latest title to go ultra-high definition, first for the William Asher film, with an HVEC encoded, 2160p 4K resolution, BD100 and an AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD50 for the Blu-ray.  Presented in an anamorphic widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio, “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” favors a stark and naturally vibrant color scheme with low profile compression issues on a pristine transfer, scanned in 4K from the original camera negative.  I could not detect any compression artefacts with the dark spots retaining their inky cohesion and the details retain superior depth in a slightly more saturated contrast of a healthy-looking, grain-appropriate picture quality, even elevated more definitively with the extra pixels.  The English uncompressed PCM mom track has lossless appeal with some foremostly faint dialogue hissing and crackling that’s more of given with age rather than a flaw in the mix.  The mix also doesn’t establish depth all too well with one channel doing all the heavy lifting, but the layers are well-balanced in proportional volume that make the audio composition effective and scary.  English subtitles are available. Encoded special features include 6 hours of content. On the UHD in lies three audio commentaries: one with star Jimmy McNichol, one with cowriters Steve Breimer and Alan Jay Glueckman, moderated by Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson, and the last one with co-producer and unit production manager Eugene Mazzola. The theatrical trailer cabooses the UHD special features. All of the above are also on the Blu-ray special features with additional content that includes a new interview with Bo Svenson Extreme Prejudice, a new interview with director of photography Robbie Greenberg Point and Shoot, a new interview with editor Ted Nicolaou (“Don’t Let Her In”) Family Dynamics, archival cast and crew interviews with Susan Tyrrell, Jimmy McNichol, Steve Eastin, make-up artist Allan A. Apone and producer Steve Breimer, and a TV spot as the cherry on top of some sweet special features. However plentiful and well-curated the special features are, my favorite attribute of this Severin release is the exterior with a dual-sided cardboard slipcover that has new illustrated compositional art and tactile features. Underneath, a reversable cover art featuring the film’s one-sheet poster art with a more Severin Film’s retro constructed “Nightmare Maker” arrangement that’s more red-blood heated. Inside does not contain any insert goodies or booklets and a disc on either side of the interior featuring the slipcase and black UHD Amaray case cover art. Both formats are region free, have a runtime of 93 minutes, and are not rated.

Last Rites: Seriously messed up on so many levels, if being a teenage boy isn’t pressurized enough right before manhood, becoming an adult can be arrantly deadly in this superbly packaged shocker “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” now on 4K UHD for the first time ever on May 28th!

The 2-Disc UHD and Blu-ray Available for Pre-Order. Due to Release 5/28!