A haughty and unpleasant stock trader taking an Uber to a late-night business meeting stumbles upon a drug deal gone bad. Monstrously bad. A werewolf intrudes into the exchange, killing three people and biting the trader on the shoulder. Stumbling into the nearby woods disoriented and with a pocketful of cocaine, his desire to relieve the pain from his shoulder as well as to escape the nightmare of being lost and confused in the woods lies within the white as snow narcotic housed on his person, but every time he takes a nasal hit, his addiction curses him into becoming like the wolf that attacked him. Happening across a film crew shooting a microbudget horror film and having no clue what’s happening to him, he partakes with the director’s cocaine habit that fuels his inner beast to come out and hunt them down one-by-one to rip them to shreds high on nose candy.
Much the same way the farcical “Sharknado” gave birth to a few analogous action-horror spoofs with similar ridiculously punned titles, such as “Clownado” or “Lavantula,” that combines a vilified thing with one of the many wraths of mother nature, 2023’s “Cocaine Bear” too began the same conceptual nonsense that spewed out “Attack of the Meth Gator,” “Cocaine Shark,” and now, we’re treated to the next level of hopped-up creatures with “Cocaine Werewolf.” Helmed by longtime microbudget horror filmmaker Mark Polonia, under the Polonia Bros. Production banner, and penned by first time screenwriter Tyger Torrez, the 2024 horror-comedy cuts the werewolf’s bane with powdery coke, spiraling the legendary lycanthrope into a stimulated frenzy of blow. “Camp Blood’s” David S. Sterling of Sterling Entertainment funds the in-and-around Wellsboro, Pennsylvania-shot project with fellow producers Ford Austin (“Dahmer vs. Gacy) and Cleopatra Entertainment’s Tim Yasuni and Brian Perera (“Frost,” “The Black Mass”) serving as producer and executive producer.
Returning to the schlocky world of penny-made horror is Brice Kennedy who has reconnected with Mark Polonia since “Razorteeth” and “Splatter Beach” from 2007. Shortly after Mark’s brother, John Polonia, unexpectantly died in 2008, Kennedy returns to the in front of the camera scene in 2024 after a lengthy hiatus of 17 years. Kenney takes the lead role of the cocaine addicted stock trader bitten to become a rampaging werewolf with a proclivity for nose blow. The West Virginia native never lost a step in those 24 years of off camera with a smooth slip into an obnoxiously crass stock trader jostled to wander the woods and to be anxious to get to the next snort of his pocket narcotic. Kenney plays on a fraction of the rubber masked werewolf, with Mark Polonia and others donning the snarling molded and faux hair stitched latex, but we don’t know or can’t tell which portion of the man-wolf Kenney portrays. Brice carries much of the story until he meets the film crew halfway, through the muck of drug deals gone sour between actors James Carolus and Titus Himmelberger of “Sharkula,” a pair of unlucky drivers behind the wheel of their cars in Michael Korotitsch (“Motorboat”) and Marie DeLorenzo (“Sister Krampus”), and two hunters, from James Kelly (“Sharkula”) and Jeff Kirkendall (“Motorboat”) suspicious of the recent mauling deaths of their neighbors and find themselves way over their head with the animal that’s causing all the carnage. Principal position shifts from being solo to a shared introduction of the film crew, exploring satire of making a low-budget, independent horror movie about a hackneyed clown slasher (Noyes J. Lawton, “Virus Shark”) chasing two girls through the forest. Those two females leads, Jamie Morgan (“Motorboat”) and Greta Volkova (“The Last Frankenstein”), get put through the trope wringer with lesbianism tendencies and gratuitous shower nudity, not to also neglect mentioning being damsels in distress from a killer clown, and become centrically the focus toward heroine, aka the final girl, as the cocaine werewolf infiltrates their small band of filmmakers. Hot on the savage beast’s trail is Ken Van Sant (“Virus Shark”) as the local sheriff baffled by what’s tearing people apart. If you couldn’t tell already, the cast is comprised of Mark Polonia regulars, those who have worked together on numerous projects, and have a kind of inner circle rapport with each other from the various Mark Polonia Bros. productions and this also includes Cody Losinger, Tim Hatch, Yolie Canales, and Alyssa Paige that rounds out “Cocaine Werewolf.”
I had promised myself after reviewing “Motorboat” dismally, I would stay away from another Mark Polonia production but because of my personal philosophy and prejudge avoidance policy of not researching and previewing films before watching them for critical analysis, I burned myself into Mark Polonia’s world once again. I was duped in part of Cleopatra Entertainment being partnering producers and the distributing label as they’re becoming well known for release moderately subpar horror product and have their own entourage line of actors, actresses, and filmmakers, such as Devanny Pinn and Brandon Slagle, with notable B-movie guest stars like William Shatner (“Star Trek”), Vernon Wells (“Commando”), and Udo Kier (“Blood for Dracula”) in some of their releases. Additionally, I absolutely enjoyed “Gun Woman’s” Kurando Mitsutake from print-to-film manga adapted “Lion Girl” that recently saw the physical media light. Unfortunately, I did not get the same pleasure out of “Cocaine Werewolf” under Polonia’s formulaic filmmaking and while Polonia does apply some effects techniques, mostly off-kilter visual f/x such as the added cold breath, the blood spurts, or the swirling faces that indicate human-to-wolf transition, but there isn’t a consistency to them and doesn’t blend into “Cocaine Werewolf’s” whole tone in what is more of a convenience choice rather than a unifying or connective element. “Dead Ant” and “Psycho Goreman’s” Josh Wasylink’s werewolf mask design would be any kid’s Halloween wet dream in what has pretty remarkable detail contrasted against the microbudget. Granted, there are not pneumatic or hydraulic components to the constant mask but a little blood here, a little blood there, and some glowing red eyes and you got yourself a damn good-looking, classic-feeling werewolf.
From Cleopatra Entertainment, the film division of music label Cleopatra Records, comes “Cocaine Werewolf” onto an AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD25 Blu-ray. Frequently lacquered in a CIG haze, the ungraded image manages to retain a solid definition of sharp detail presented in an anamorphic 1.85:1 aspect rato. This can be good and bad for the image quality that while really creates delineation around textural clothing and the ample foliage it can also really expose to a fault and emphasize the rubbery inanimate mask along with the large cut out eyes, blackened with dark makeup to try and make the mask and the actor seamless. Depth is fine and medlied across multiple locations and the color range has natural, varied pop, diffused into the smokey trope atmospherics and angled up and key lit cinematography by Paul Alan Steele. Blacks are slight washed but not crushed or with significant banding. Like most Cleopatra Entertainment releases, the soundtrack overwhelms enough of the other audio layers in this English language LCPM Stereo 2.0 that it slightly takes of the edge of the impact, but the lossless quality awakens the snarling, growling werewolf noises and the dialogue is amply consistent throughout that even the Gothic rockabilly score from The 69 Cats doesn’t fully immerse viewers solely in the band’s dark melodiousness. Bonus content includes a Mark Polonia commentary, which the director is usually pretty good about supplying and supporting for most of his work, an image slideshow, and the trailer plus trailers for other Cleopatra Entertainment releases. Physical attributes of the conventional encased Blu-ray include an uncredited but insane Red Riding Hood inspired illustration on the front cover. There is no reverse side of the cover nor are there any inserts included in his release and the disc is pressed with the same front cover image. The unrated Blu-ray comes region free and has a runtime of 80 minutes.
Last Rites: “Cocaine Werewolf” is better than most of the contemporary Mark Polonia body of work, but the heart-pounded effects of his laced comedy-horror is not addictive enough to produce the euphoria to warrant another line hit, leaving this derived werewolf indie in withdrawals.
A killer emerges out of the depths of an Amsterdam canal and mercilessly kills a prostitute, dragging her into the water, and suspends her lifeless, stabbed-riddled corpse over one of the canal bridges. Detective Eric Visser is baffled by the canal killer’s unusual technique but aims to track down the bravado murderer while living the single dad life with daughter Anneke. When another couple of heinous killings takes place out in the middle of the water and the mutilated bodies wash ashore, panic begins to creep into administrative officials with the thought of a scuba diving maniac swimming in the hundreds of Amsterdam canals. Investigating the underwater hobby leads Visser to meet Laura, a diving enthusiast and museum tour guide who sparks instantly with the ruggedly handsome detective, but as the Visser gets closer to the truth and the killer, Laura becomes emmeshed in a crime that’s deadlier than an embolism.
If scuba diving wasn’t already deadly enough, the murky waters of canal rivulets become the hunting grounds of a deranged, underwater killer in Dick Maas’s 1988 Dutch crime thriller “Amsterdamned.” The elevator horror filmmaker of “The Lift” Maas wrote and directed the red-running canal of carnage with a fast-paced, action-packed, hard-boiled, giallo film outside the conventional Italia-construction. Shot mostly in the red-light district capital of the world of Amsterdam, shooting locations also include Utrecht to accommodate additional speedboat scenes, plus studio work in Leiden and Heemstede, Netherland. Maas self produces the action-horror alongside Lauren Geels, a longtime collaborator with Maas who’ve worked previously on comedies “Voyeur” and “Flodders” and subsequent projects, such as the English-dialogued apocalyptic drama “The Last Island” helmed by provocative feminist filmmaker Marleen Gorris and Maas’s own American remake of “The Lift,” known as “The Shaft” or “Down.” “Amsterdamned” is distributed theatrically by First Floor Pictures.
Huub Stapel (“The Cool Lakes of Death,” “The Lift”) stars as the world-weary, tough as nails cop Eric Visser. Also, as a single dad raising a small preteen and nearly self-independent child Anneke (Tatum Dagelet, ”Stuk!”), the setup doesn’t automatically constitute the detective as a cynically hardboiled man of the law but evokes more of a seasoned and skeptical vigilant persona of a man who is willing to leave circumspection at the door when duty calls. Stapel wonderfully fits the bill of Eric Visser’s rugged and assured good looks with a force in tune with being a father and a police investigator when the occasion calls for it. Being a single father also invites the opportunity to spark an exciting love interest to later put into danger. The infectious smile of Monique van de Ven (“Turkish Delight,” “A Woman Like Eve”) fills that void as Stapel and Ven engage in teetering flirtation that makes us wonder how astute is Visser now on a case that’s causing havoc on the streets of, or rather the waterways of, Amsterdam. Luckily, fellow police partners Vermeer (Serge-Henri Valcke, “Sl8n8”) and John van Meegeren (Wim Zomer), the latter a professional scuba diver and once jealous rival lover of Visser, keep the detective mostly focused with investigative conversation, joint crime scene speculation, and the gruesome death of one of them when they get too close. That ancient rivalry between Visser and Meegeren stays put in the re-introduction of their assembly with no hard feelings and bygones will be bygones attitude, missing the change for any exterior or addition tension outside the murderer’s reign of terror. “Amsterdamned” rounds out the cast with Lou Landré, Tanneke Hartzuiker, and Hidde Maas.
The fascinating aspect of Dick Maas’s “Amsterdamned” is taking the idyllic, ingrained, and utilitarian that is a cultural and landmark staple of Amsterdam and turning into an unpleasant gateway of fear and anxiety. Transferring soundbite cues and following a storyline that’s not terribly too dissimilar from that of Steven Speilberg’s iconic oceanic death-dealing “Jaws,” and toss in Dick Maas’s enthusiastic fervor for a heart-racing effervescence, and you have the singular crime-thriller “Amsterdamned” in a nutshell that’s doesn’t deliver trite and uninspired horror or thrills but rather spoils the innate grandeur of a worldclass city that’s soaked in splendor as well as carnal sin; a fact lost upon espionage thrillers who overuse “Amsterdam” as an assembly of salvo and high-speed chases. Maas does add his own variation of high-speed chase with a lengthy and complex speedboat pursuit through the on-site in Amsterdam and Utrecht canals with gripping and well edited ramp jumps and fiery explosions that predate some of the more renowned speedboat chases of modern cinema. What’s also interesting about “Amsterdamned” is the adversary that doesn’t have a lot of bells and whistles to make a convoluted story stick; instead, the killer is rather simply pieced together but descriptively held at bay until the finale for maximum suspense on unveiling the identity.
Surfacing just beneath the depths is a 2K restoration from the original 35mm negative, approved by Dick Maas, from Blue Underground; however, these Blu-ray specs mirror the 2017 Blu-ray and DVD combo set and is more than likely the same transfer but for this standard edition, also labeled special edition, release. The single disc, AVC encoded, BD50 is presented in high-definition 1080p and in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Color saturation stands out here with a specified density that results in a pop of color and a diffusion of light that’s brilliant and revealing in the day without a bleeding wash and cold, wet, and with a noir-like steeliness at night, accentuated by inky solid shadows. The original 35mm print has flawless approach into the restoration that makes the 2K scan candid and, perhaps, a walk in the park for another Blue Underground upgrade to high-definition in their established genre catalogue. The original Dutch soundtrack is presented in a 5.1 DTS-HD, greatly tightened around the milieu and dialogue to isolate each track for separation and clarity. Dick Maas, a filmmaker of many talents, scores his own feature with an unintrusive and dynamic soundtrack that ebbs and flows with the trepidation terror and tension-riddled action. Dialogue is clean and clear but does have that ADR artificiality to it. English subtitles render over promptly and error free. Two other soundtrack mixes are available on the dual layer disc: a lossless hybrid English-Dutch 2.0 DTS-HD and a French dubbed and lossy Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo. English SHD and Spanish subtitles are also optionally available. Extras are pulled from the previous Blue Underground release and are an audio commentary from writer/director/composer Dick Maas and editor Hans van Dungen, a making of “Amsterdamned,” an interview with star Huub Stapel Tales from the Canal, an interview with stunt coordinator Dickey Beer Damned Stuntwork, the Dutch and US trailer, the Lois Lane music video directed by Dick Maas, and poster and still galleries. Behind the wild ride illustrated composition of the Blu-ray front cover, the reverse cover lists the encoded scene chapters on top of one of Huub Stapel’s stunt work performances. The disc is pressed with the masked scuba diver head holding a gleaming diver’s knife cover art from Blue Underground’s limited-edition Blu-ray and DVD combo set of 2017. The all region encoded disc holds a 113-minute feature and is rated R.
Last Rites: If looking to save a buck against purchasing the limited edition, dual format combo set, the standard special edition Blu-ray of “Amsterdamned” is worth it, especially since the film has been absent from U.S. home markets up until 2017. Dick Maas is a premier Dutch horror filmmaker with the ability to keep us engaged as well as on edge.
World-renowned but virtually unorthodox and cursory neurosurgeon Dr. Seymour Caligari removes yet another brain tumor with relative ease from a cancerous-afflicted patient. After the large golf ball sized tumor is discarded for oncology dissection and study in the lab, the once lifeless biological malignant specimen escapes from the medical pan and starts violently attacking people on a rouge killing spree. Having absconded the hospital grounds, the tumor continuously stays on the hunt for its next meal, devouring the distasteful locals surrounding Dr. Caligari’s mansion home. Caligari, his son Dash, and stepdaughter, Kitsie, who is an alcoholic and is also oddly dating her stepbrother, soon find out that the nearby, forest hiding tumor is growing into a large, tentacled, and toothy ball with bloodthirsty, feeding frenzy tendencies and it’s up to Caligari’s family to reconnect whole their interfamily relationship faults if they want to stop it before it consumes more victims.
A practical schlock tribute to the pre-1980s monster movie, this 2024 release “Brain Tumor” embodies every bad, mutated cell that defined the ridiculously slathered B-movie creature features of yore, the ones that aired late enough to be seen by the burning the midnight oil few and were described with every exclamatory interjections and horrifying, vocabulary descriptors you could think of to put shock, terror, and fear in large, screen-to-screen filling grotesque font. Glen Coburn, who’s directorially debuted with the “Blood Suckers from Outer Space” in 1984, wrote and directed his latest comedy-horror cheapie in nearly three decades since his last feature. The American-made picture reteams Coburn with Bret McCormick whom both helmed a segment in the “Tabloid” horror anthology alongside the third co-segment director, Matt Devlan. This time, the “Repligator” and “The Abomination” producer McCormick designs Coburn’s tumorous creature, much like the body-bred monster of “The abomination,” with “Tabloid” actress Kay Bay producing the film under Whacked Movies, distributed by TinyBig.
“Brain Tumor’s” schtick is part half-century ago creature feature and part absurdist humor brought upon by the cast of caricature characters beginning with Dr. Seymour Caligari in off the cuff remarks and off topic comments that no one patient wants to hear while in the middle of brain surgery, which, if I’m correct, requires you to be awake depending on the type of operation. Behind Caligari is an actor who is usually behind the camera in Bil Arscott, cinematographer for “Christmas of the Dead” and gaffer for the Ryan Kline black market human meat selling comedy-horror short film “Meat.” Perhaps the less sensationalist absurdist in the entire picture, Arscott is joined by Jack Mahoney and Sydney Hatton as son Dash and stepdaughter Kitsie who embody the light “Cruel Intentions” incest between siblings. Yes, I know they’re stepsiblings but there’s still a creepy factor about it. Plus, Kitsie’s mentioned on multiple occasions about her alcoholism but that sidebar aspect her character doesn’t flourish or become problematic. Dash tries to convince himself his father has nothing to do with the recent string of murders while Kitsie’s devil’s advocate reign of suspicion marks the doctor complicate. In the end, none of the complexities amount to anything in a fiery fight finale of man versus malignant tumor with casualties in between from mostly interesting yet throwaway characters in biopsy researcher Phoenix Leach (Danielle Wyatt), Caligari’s medical assistant Freddy (Aspen Higgins), a bordering predo-priest Father Bud (Matt Tucker), and 2000’s indie scream queen Anjanette Clewis (“Witchcraft 13,” “Suburban Nightmare) in perhaps the only gory scene in the entire film.
At eye level, “Brain Tumor” is nothing more than a quirky horror-comedy conjured up with slim conceptualization from Coburn seeking to spend a shoestring budget. Not a ton of substantial story inside this framework of a cantankerous killer tumor with a vaginal mouth, snakelike tentacles, and a single ocular just above the vagina dentata. With no mutational cause for the creature’s resulted effect, the titular terrorizers mostly skulks in nearby bushes and grabs those stupid enough to leave the confines of their home to check out that weird sound. Following a formulaic path similar to monster movies of the 1950s modernized to reflect with a jab of a politically divided climate and a liberal sense of humor, “Brain Tumor” fails to that semblance of an under-the-veil of Golden Age cinema veneer classified by those archaically rendered B-films, substituting the strived charm of making the most of it with farce and satire just like most modern movies that more-or-less mock what once was for a serious creature feature. Without the presence of significant monster mayhem and without the presence of a personality, Coburn’s creature metastasizes into too many benign lumps that it causes a deficiency in entertainment, horror, and for it’s intended comedy.
“Brain Tumor” arrives onto DVD home video from rising physical media distributor MVDVisual in distributive collaboration with Whacked Movies. The MPEG2 encoded DVD5 is upscaled to 1080p from the standard 720p resolution. Picture quality doesn’t hold many qualms through an ungraded and brightly lit digital compression. There’s an artificial quality to the rudimentary visual effects that emits a plastic and hard-edged surface without a smoother blend into the frames. Color density is quite sharp against the off-and-on emerging details when green screen tactics are not being utilized or the scene is not overexposed with natural lighting. Audio specifications are not listed on the back cover, but my player has identified the English language mix encoding as an uncompressed stereo 2.0. Digital audio retains a crisp and clean reproduction albeit the feedback crackling during higher pitched screaming. Dialogue renders clean, free of obstruction, and with prominence over the other encoded tracks and despite it’s microbudget, an onboard mic doesn’t seem to be used here based off the clarity and depth of sound. There are no subtitles available with this feature as well as no bonus content in this barebone, feature-only release. The unsigned illustrated front cover art is neat though, an above average Ghana-like design that’s more accurate to the film’s storyline. Aside from the sexy front cover, that’s about the sum of “Brain Tumor’s” physical allure with no insert accompaniments and a disc art pressed with partisan screengrab of the monster. The 76-minute feature comes unrated and is region free.
Last Rites: While I applaud the use of a stationary, yet tangible, bio-organic mutated creature instead of a visual effects atrocity, “Brain Tumor” is terminally fated to be a miss amongst fans both old and new with too little monster, too little gore, and too little sense to save itself from itself.
The Stackpooles are a little strange and are usually the talk of the small town of Nob Hollows when the zombified trio of siblings pick up the groceries at Lance’s Stop and Shop general store and diner. Yet, the Stackpoole’s are not Lance’s problem, not yet anyway, when Howard, a no-good shakedown thug, forces his might into Lance’s business as a silent partner. Little does Howard know that Lance has an ongoing affair with his wife, Loretta, and they devise a plan to get rid of Howard using the newly discovered dirt on the Stackpoole family’s bizarre kidnappings to take care of Howard once and for all. Lance figures he’s found his meal ticket after blackmailing Mryon, the fourth, and unseen, sibling who’s the mastermind and head of the family – literally a giant head – using telepathy and mind control to against his brothers and sister to do his bidding, but Myron is no fool to be taken advantage of so easily.
Who just is this Robert Talbot? The director of “Head of the Family,” who hides behind a black mask and speaks through a voice modulator, is none other than Full Moon’s secret identity for Charles Band under a pseudonym persona to exact a different kind of picture outside the context he’s expected to continue as well as an empire built on the image of horror. “Head of the Family” may not be tiny dolls inflicting an affliction based on their evil ways or the resurrection of the formerly dead and abnormal to, once again, inflect damage upon their creators, and possibly, the world we know it. Instead, “Head of the Family” slips out of Full Moon’s comfort zone and into another, different kind of shadowy namkeen to small plate audiences’ bizarre fascination with the weird and fantastical. Also, to exhibit T&A more than like the usual in the Full Moon repertoire. The less horror, more zany cult 1995 feature structures around the titular big headed villain, a band of his freakshow kin, and a constantly copulating couple that’s penned by Neal Marshall Stevens (“Thir13en Ghosts”), also under a pseudonym of Benjamin Carr, based off a “Talbot” story, and produced by, also “Talbot,” and “Hideous!” and “Witchouse” producer, Kirk Edward Hansen.
I couldn’t tell you if J.W. Perra is big-headed or not in real life, but the actor is certainly quite cranial as the family-telepathic, wheelchair bound Myron Stackpoole. The literal pun of the title plays in tune with Full Moon’s madcap maniacal ties while having Perra’s large head shine, or rather sweat gland glisten, under a miniature lame body. Myron’s enfeebled corporeal flesh drives his hunger to join the ranks of normal people as he kidnaps and surgically operates on the minds of unsuspected townsfolk to incorporate a portion of his higher intellect into a stronger body. Myron uses his stupefied siblings’ talents, bestowed upon them through a paternal quadruplet birthing, with Wheeler (James Jones, “Dark Honeymoon”) given superhuman bugeye sight and hearing, Otis (Bob Schott, “Gymkata”) given the twice the strength of a normal man, and Georgina (adult actress Alexandria Quinn, “Taboo VIII”) given, you guessed it, the hot and voluptuous body to attract men like moth to a flame. Speaking of hot bodies, former adult actress and “Femalien” star Jacqueline Lovell, aka porn handle Sara St. James, is absolutely supple as Loretta, a twangy blonde girlfriend to the scheming Lance, played with Cajun confidence by Blake Adams (“Lurking Fear”), and every chance Lance and Loretta get, they’re steaming the scene with erotically charged expo and exposition. I’m fairly certain Lovell has more lines topless than she does with her clothes fully on. In the supporting cast inventory, Vicki Lynn (“Fugitive Rage”) and Gordon Jennison Noice (“Virtuosity’) make up the remaining.
I’ll admit I fell into that hole of expecting “Head of the Family” to play out just like any conventional Full Moon feature, comprised of pint-sized and mischievous devils to a carnivalesque tune of irregular horror. To my surprise but not to my dismay, Band’s incognito oddity has the bones of a blackmailing thriller spiced with eccentric and caricature types and gratuitous sex at every turned corner. “Head of the Family” progresses through interacting conversation to outline exploitation arrangements and to be informed of dangers of crossing a big headed brainiac, interjected with the occasional display of drooling operated rejects, Otis and Wheeler’s utilizing their inborn side effects, and, I keep coming around to this motif and hopefully not in a pervy way, the female toplessness that bares bountiful. The depth perception effect to enlarge J.W. Perra’s head as Myron is executed pretty well with Adolfo Bartoli’s camera work that reflects the actors facing generally at the correct angle, as if they’re eye-to-eye with the Myron, and the edits do the effect justice as well, spliced precisely to account for dimensional space, the effects are reminiscent of Randy Cook’s illusionary work on “The Gate” films using dimensional animation and scale between live actors in the same frame but some distance apart. If you excuse the upcoming intended pun, Band’s film is more of a talking head production than one of grotesque action, a realization you won’t be aware of until well stretched into the runtime and because of this that’s the reason there’s likely a ton of Jacqueline Lovell nudity. Okay, okay, I’ll stop blabbering on about the nudity!
“Head of the Family” arrives onto newly remastered DVD from Full Moon Features. The MPEG2, upscaled 720p, DVD5, presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio, doesn’t have any detail regarding the remastering on the latest re-release but I suspect it’s the identical image or a slightly touched up 35mm negative used for the original Full Moon release from 1999 scanned in 2K. 15 years later, a reimagined “Head of the Family” retains the softer, radiant picture quality with a highly extensive color palette through the aura glow and a natural, yet reduced, grain. The negative does have a flaw in what looks to be cell damage a little halfway through the runtime with a brief, dark cut line making itself known, if you blink, you’ll miss it. This sort of obvious damage does lean more toward an identical transfer being used for the 2024 release with just a 2k scan without restorative elements. Remastered restoration likely went hot and heavy into the audio elements. The English language LPCM is available in two channel formats, a dual-channeled 2.0 and a surround sound 5.1 mix. Robust with added nuances, “Head of the Family’s” soundtrack breathes new aural acuities that not only clean any distortions, if there was any, but also sharpens the tracks like a knife on a wet stone, cutting and clean. Dialogue is clear and assertive through what is mostly a talking head span. English close caption subtitles are available. Much of the special features are reused from the 2016 Blu-ray release, including an audio commentary track from Actor J.W. Perra (Myron), promo behind-the-scenes video of the long anticipated “Bride of Head,” which has been stagnant for years, the original trailer, and other Full Moon Features’ trailers. The DVD release is an exact mirror image of the physical Blu-ray release from 8 years prior with a disc press image of Myron’s closeup through a murky filter and no inserts included. The region free release has an 82-minute runtime and is rated R without specifying the content but there is language, nudity, strong sexuality, and violence.
Last Rites: “Head of the Family” bucks the lucrative trend of miniature killer imps for the Full Moon empire but keeps moderately in line with eccentric characters, unabashed skin, and a Richard Band jaunty soundtrack, accentuated even more in a brand-new remastered DVD version of the film that was helmed by Charlie Band himself in anonymity.
Daniel Ray Hawkins drives an unsettling, nomadic lifestyle as he travels across different parts of the country. With no money, no place to call home, and little friends, Hawkins lives a life of mostly solitude, odd jobs, and equally as strange as him acquaintances spurred from his childhood, shaped by his promiscuously prostitute mother and a war veteran disabled father who gruesomely took his own life, both of which displaying their iniquities right in front of him. Hawkins also lives a life of torture and murder, being one of the most prolific American serial killers ever of mostly young women. When caught by authorities, Hawkins is willing to confess to everything and help unearth bodies from over decades on the road to ensure families he’s stolen from receive some sliver of solace. His anecdotal accounts of individual disappearances and murders shock authorities to the core, so much so that Hawkins may just be unstable and not telling the truth. That is until he informs them of and leads them to the cached polaroids and decaying corpses.
Based on the American serial killer Henry Lee Lucas, who notoriously claims killing over 200 people has earned him a trio of film adaptations, at least, with “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer,” directed by John McNaughton and starring Michael Rooker in the titular role, the subsequent lesser part II, and the more obscurely known Mark Blair written and directed production, “Confession of a Serial Killer.” Much like “Armageddon” and “Deep Impact,” or “End of Days” and “Stigmata,” both movies fall into the paradoxical twin film phenomena of sharing the same them and having both been released approx. within a year of each other. While “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer” may have taken the top spot with a bigger budget played in more widespread venues, Blair’s rendition was released prior and closer to Lucas’s active killing spree that saw an end in 1983, just didn’t get released in America until a few years later to not duel with McNaughton’s film and thus didn’t succeed as much. The Cedarwood Productions film was produced by Cecyle Osgood Rexrode, distributed by Roger Corman and his company, Concorde Pictures.
While he was not the first choice for the titular character of Daniel Ray Hawkins, production designer, the late Robert A. Burns, filled in the sociopathic shoes with great monotonic conviction. Burns, who has ties as Art Director and makeup effects on some of the most iconic and seminal genre films, such as “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” “The Hills Have Eyes,” and “Tourist Trap,” matches the makings of an unempathetic, unsympathetic, natural born killer with a glazed deadpan austere and matter-a-fact knowledge and every evil committed. “Confessions of a Serial Killer” would not be as laced with depravity if Burns didn’t push the demented drugs to keep audiences hooked on overdosed deviancy. Not a tall or broadly muscular stature, curly outstretched and receding hair, scruffily unshaven with a consistent 5 o’clock shadow, and wide rimmed glasses, Daniel Ray Hawkins epitomizes the very essence of a creep and accentuates the behavior even further with his leisurely composure and straight-faced simplicity. Other side characters exist around Hawkins’ maniacal run with the bisexual Moon Lewton (Dennis Hill) and his sister Molly (Sidney Brammer), who marries the pansexual Hawkins out of necessity rather than sexual desire, and while Moon and Molly share Hawkins deranged apathy, they are completely overshadowed by the more controlling and interesting lead principal character due to half the murderous anecdotes are solo ran and all of the perception in the stories is through Hawkins’ recollection, giving him more power in the trio in perceptional self-interest, if Hawkins is capable of such consciousness. The cast fleshes out with lawmen and victims in Berkley Garrett, Ollie Handley, DeeDee Norton, Demp Toney, Eleese Lester, Colom L. Keating, and Lainie Frasier in the opening stranded motorist scene that sets up Hawkins diabolical reach in turning a car into a trap.
Bathed in realism, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” does not embellish with surrealistic temperament. The story never dives into Hawkins’ head to show any indication or any kind of visual mental degradation or reality breakage toward being a coldblooded killer. His violence is spartan, acidic, and raw to the bone, leaving a gritty taste in your mouth, with only a bleak childhood to blame for his adult obsessions to kill that he describes as necessary as breathing. Blair distills the story to a “Mindhunter’” episode in trying to understand the killer and recover skeletons from his past, literally, through rational and respect ways rather than boiler room beatings and power-tripping threats. Blair’s concept humanizes the inhuman and having Hawkins’s reminiscence each account is like recalling childhood memories with a smirk and fond remembrance splayed across his face adds another layer of iciness. Grounded by pedestrian scenarios, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” disrupts the routine, the familiar, and the unscripted ways we live our lives unconsciously to the fiends living among us that look like you or me. It’s a very palpable fear Blair conveys under the semi-biopic film. The director does eventually let loose the reigns in the final third act with a finale account of Hawkins, Moon, and Molly shacking up with an amiable doctor, his suspicious assistant, and his shapely young daughter that boils to a head when one bad decision leas to another.
For the first time on Blu-ray anywhere as a part of Unearthed Films’ Unearthed Classics sub-banner, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” receives a high-definition, 1080p release on an AVC encoded, single ring BD25. Higher contrast and a lesser diffusion to create a harsher, flatter color scheme, the intention is to fully base the story in reality as much as possible, to structure an abrasive look of grain and low lighting that parallels the seediness the tale touts. inspired from the facts of an American serial killer without having to fully give recognition to the actual killer. Shadows are key to Hawkins nightly runs, adding back-alley value to his viciousness, and the more lighter scenes, such as brighter-by-color interiors or day exteriors, are ample with natural grain that cut into the details but don’t necessarily knock them out entirely. With the lesser capacity disc, compression doesn’t appear to be an issue with no sign of macroblocking, banding, or posterization. The English language LCPM 2.0 mono possesses lo-fi aspects kept true to the original audio master. The dual-channel conduit amasses the layers mostly in the forefront without ascendancy in the environment, creating a flat approach, rendering the audio mostly fixed and depthless with the action creeping onto the dialogue, but this also adds the realism of a real world chaos where cacophony reigns. William Penn’s effectively, inlaid soundtrack has hallmarks of Wayne Bell and Tobe Hooper’s “Texas Chain Saw Massacre in the minor key with added notes of an otherworldly tune fork keyboard and lingering bass elements that’s just infests with the sounds of deceit and death, reminding me also a lot of a George A. Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead’s” atmospheric arrangement. English SDH are an available option. The collector’s edition contents include a commentary with director Mark Blair, aka John Dwyer, director of photography Layton Blacklock, and actor Sidney Brammer (Molly), The Henry Lee Lucas Story by author and former TV news reporter James Moore, and a full-lengthy documentary Rondo and Bob examines Robert Burns being the foremost expert on uniquely deformed actor Rondo Hatton as well as examines Burns’ own career, a polaroid gallery, promotional gallery, and the trailer. Displaying the iconic poster, a profit from rip of Hannibal Lector with a devilishly masked killer behind bars, Unearthed Films’ releases the stark image onto a planar cardboard slipcover. Same image is used from the standard Blu-ray Amaray case with no reverse side. Disc is pressed with a memorable and anxiety-filled chase scenes. There are no inserts material included. The region A encoded Blu-ray has a runtime of 107 minutes and is unrated.
Last Rites: One of the better biopics on U.S. serial killers even if a little bit of speculation and sensationalism increases the already verbose notoriety of one Henry Lee Lucas. Scary and bleak, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” continues to remind us that no one is safe from the everyday sociopath.
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