Never Steal EVIL’s Dead Body and Think to Get Away Scot-Free! “Frightmare” reviewed! (Troma / Tromatic Collector’s Edition)

It’s not a Nightmare. It’s a “Frightmare” on Blu-ray!

Aging horror icon Conrad Radzoff is on the verge of being forgotten by all except for a few handfuls of diehard fans who gather around a horror society that appreciate classics that are quickly fading from public view.  Arrogant and conceited, Radzoff doesn’t take criticism all too well.  In fact, he kills over it.  After murdering a commercial director and his longtime collaborating director, both of whom loathed his tyrannical, prima donna attitude, Radzoff dies of heart failure shortly after.  The youthful members of the horror society steal his body from Radzoff’s elaborate decorated and booby-trapped mausoleum on a whim and spends the night dining, dancing, and photographing with his lifeless corpse until Radzoff’s wife uses a medium to locate her late husband’s body and inadvertently resurrects him from dead with supernatural psychic powers to pick off his naïve graverobbers one-by-bone in what will be his last great horror performance. 

“Frightmare,” aka “The Horror Star,” is the supernatural slasher that tears into the fabric of being forgotten with a lasting impression, one with deadly consequences for a mischievous teens disrespecting the past in order to live with impunity in the present.  The 1983 picture is written-and-directed by Norman Thaddeus Vane, co-director of “The Black Room” and the Elvira-inspired 1988 film “Midnight.”  Shot mostly in the Los Angeles area, “Frightmare’s” principal photography and wrap was completed during 1981 but the film itself was not released until two years later and is not a remake of and has no connection to the Pete Walker film of the same title years earlier in 1974, which focuses on a seemingly mentally disturbed rehabilitated woman released years after committing deadly crimes.  This more necromancing and resurrecting slasher “Frightmare” is produced by Callie and Patrick Wright and with “Shadow of the Hawk’s” Henry Gellis serving as executive producer under the Screenwriters Production Company. 

“Frightmare” would undoubtedly become director Norman Thaddeus Vane’s first attempt at replicating a horror icon shell that would later inspire him to direct “Midnight” that pulls influences off horror hostesses, such as Elvira or Vampira.  The centralized character, one who’s prim-and-proper snobbish attitude and flair for the theatrical in film and in life, is loosely, in Conrad Radzoff is loosely based off the Vincent Prices and the Christopher Lees of the genre, classically trained method actors astute to the craft.  Radzoff is, however, embellished with a hellish soul, unlike Price or Lee who sustained a rather indifferent or benevolent character.  There’s a lot to take in and enjoy from Ferdy Mayne’s performance as Radzoff.  Mayne’s first role of it’s kind for the actor with its meta intent to be an actor playing a horror actor reawakened as psychic sociopath from the depths of Hell groomed and garbed as a Vincent Price/Christopher Lee-like gothic vampire, in which Mayne was quite trained for having starred in vampiric films such as “The Vampire Lovers” and “The Fearless Vampire Hunters” in the 1970s, and he crushes the performance with profound effect with Vane’s Euro-style slasher that keeps tabs on the killer as he lurks through the property of the horror society, consisting of going from contravening teens to the unfortunate victims played by Luca Bercovici (“Parasite”), Jennifer Starrett (Run, Angel, Run!”), Alan Stock (“Poison Ivy”), Scott Thomason (“Ghoulies”), then Michael Biehn’s now ex-wife Carlene Olson, Donna McDaniel (“Angel”), and one Jeffrey Combs that would be one of his first films pre-“Re-Animator.”   Narratively, this laid out is the core cast of characters but there are peripheral support characters that are introduced and have key moments but are quickly diminished or erased from completing their story arc.  Radzoff’s wife Ette (Barbara Pilavin, “Maniac Cop 3:  Badge of Silence”) barely has five minutes of screentime but provides the undead Radzoff the key, go-ahead directive to kill his body snatchers but after that intense moment where they psychically connect, her scenes are no more other than one moment with a lightly knotted loose end.  Same can about the intensity of Mrs. Rohmer (Nita Talbot, “Puppet Master II”) that it pops clean off after connecting with Radzoff.  Leon Askin (Doctor Death:  Seeker of Souls”), Chuck Mitchell (“Porky’s”), and Peter Kastner (“Steambath”) fill in the cast.

If only one element stood out as “Frightmare’s” most redeeming characteristic, Joel King’s cinematography takes the top spot on the podium with a diffused fog machine backlighting that’s out of this world, angles and movements that complex the simplest and most stationary scenes, and an ingenuity that manifests the magic of a macabre movie also assisted by both of the aforementioned lighting techniques and the camera placements.  “Frightmare’s” also heavily infused with Gothic nuances that pay tribute to the subgenre as well as add to the sinister and oppressive tone of a rapidly enclosing atmosphere of darkness, shadow, and vaulted architecture from Radzoff’s Victorian-era, aristocratic black and white attire to the wood dark-toned and concreated exterior, two-story mansion that becomes the prison to the horror society they can’t escape from, in life with their hobby and in death with Radzoff hunting them through secret passages, dumbwaiters, and its delicately antiquatedly trimmed rooms and hallways.  Blood is accentuated with slow motion and splatter along walls and out of gash wounds with practical effects constructed by “Critters’” Chuck E. Stewart who can build a ghastly looking burned up and smoking body dead on the ground.  “Frightmare” isn’t a narrative that’ll strike fear around every corner but is rather a campy, supernatural slasher with hammed performances and a solid method for one-by-one offing.  The story’s a bit thin with motivations that keep Radzoff’s egocentric boasting about his last performance in death, his deathtrap mausoleum as if the actor knew there would be intruders, and the whole stealing of the corpse that just seemed to be a fruitless, ill-advised whim where there would be no escape from authorities or even the smell of an actively rotting corpse being stowed away in a non-climate controlled attic. 

Troma re-releases the Vinger Syndrome transfer onto their own Blu-ray through a partnership contract where Vinegar Syndrome receives first dibs on the upgraded, high definition 1080p, 2K transfer from the original amera negative with the title holding partner, Troma, releasing their own Blu-ray upon after the agreed term and the VS edition now out of print circulation.  The identical AVC encoded onto a BD50 “Frightmare” is presented on a Tromatic Special Edition set that retains the same quality as the Vinegar Syndrome 2021 release even, carrying over some Vinegar Syndrome special features.  Graded toward a dark tone, Joel King’s diffused backlighting and primary color tint elevates “Frightmare’s” kitschy, campy posture toward saturated spooky atmospherics.  Details are more than generally reproduced with deep absorbing in the smaller aspects of eliciting skin surfaces and object textures, such as the mansion wood-grain aesthetic and cobweb strung attic.  There are darker scenes that have unavoidable crush outside the colorful haze key lighting, but most retain pitchy space in the 1.78:1 aspect ratioed framing.  The English audio mix is a DTS-HD Master Audio Mono mix that also the same as Vinegar Syndrome’s release that has adequate audio propagation and diffusion without the lift of distinct layer and multi-channeling.  All through single channel can collide at times, especially between Jerry Mosely’s (“Bloodtide”) inclusively gothic score and the dialogue, but despite the rough audio patches, the single-conduit tracks are constructively discernible for a better part of the runtime.  English subtitles are available.  Special features are blend between Vinegar Syndrome produced historical commentary with David Del Valle and David DeCoteau, a now historical commentary by The Hysteria Continues podcast hosts, an archived interview with director Normal Thaddeus Vane, and a video interview featurette with director of photography Joel King and Troma exclusive supplementaries that are not entirely related to the feature, those include an old Debbie Rechon and Lloyd Kaufman generic intro from the original DVD version (Rechon and Kaufman a years younger), Lloyd Kaufman gives his personal lesson opinion to aspire indie filmmakers from the set of “Meat for Satan’s Ice Box,” the music video for “INNARDS!,” an artwork gallery, the original theatrical trailer, and the ever included Troma Radiation March.  “Frightmare” receives new Troma sleeve art that covers the macabre more than the usual campy slapstick with a horror flair, slipped inside a Blu-ray Amaray with no extra accoutrements inside or on the reverse side the sleeve.  The 86-minute Troma release is region free and is like the R-rated version, much like the Vinegar Syndrome was, but is unlisted on the backside or on the disc.

Last Rites: A supernatural slasher gothic in tone and crude around the edges, “Frightmare” is one of Troma’s more earnest acquirements into the horror genre that looks now leagues better in high-definition with Joel King’s hazy effervescent lighting, Norman Thaddeous Vane’s looping self-referential narrative, and reliable physical gore.

It’s not a Nightmare. It’s a “Frightmare” on Blu-ray!

EVIL’s Casting Couch Could Be the Last Audition! “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered!” reviewed! (Anchor Bay / Blu-ray)

Not Red Heads, Not Brunettes, Blondes! “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered!” on Blu-ray!

Stacy and Josie are two aspiring young actresses living in Los Angeles.  Both women are blonde and both ambitious to make it big in acting while being friends vying for the same work in the difficult industry that involves casting couches and who-knowing-who to get even just a foot into the door.  As Stacey’s journey to fulfil her acting career stumbles role-after-role, especially after a unique pre-casting session with a film director named Sasha, she finds that Josie receives role interest from the same director.  The pressure gets under Stacey’s skin to where nightmares evoke jealousy and a thin layer of fear, raised by the widespread terror of blonde women, also aspiring actresses, being discovered horrible murdered by a killer who records every kill.  Stacy pushes forward but her friendship with Josey wanes with her casting success and the news of more blonde actresses found gruesomely murdered unlock her nightmares to their full potential. 

“Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” catches the eye with a lustrous, vice-drenched title, but the narrative layout is anything but candidly conventional.  The film can be described as a reverse slasher that keeps the serial killer of young, blonde actresses in the peripherals integrated ever so delicately inside a character study of the principal lead, in this case with Stacey, a Minnesotan with stars in her eyes.  Those stars eventually lose their sheen, but the desire doesn’t dull amongst a deficiently of roles for an overabundance of the same type of actress going for them.  For writer-director, “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” is Nick Funess’s first feature-length production based loosely on the trials and tribulations of young women cat scratching their way into the business with a hairline hook of a maniac with a murdered type.  Silence Films serves as the production company with Corentin Leroux and Matt Morello co-executive producing alongside Funess for the L.A. shot film.

Inhabiting as the primary character learning the curve of your desired trade is Samantha Carroll in her second full-length feature role but first at the helm as the star.  However, as Stacy, Carroll plays a character who doesn’t feel like her longed dream of being a star.  Instead, Stacy plays by the rules as if there’s a guide or a playbook to becoming a successful on-screen thespian.  Carroll’s range of emotions can peak from mile excitement to absolutely feeling crushed by the weight of failure.  Disdain and jealousy also rear their ugly heads in between inside a structure that isn’t exclusive in following Stacy as Josie runs a parallel course with less touch-upons in the grind that is to follow one’s dreams.  Elle Chapman’s more dolled up for the role by accentuating her natural beautiful for perkier and more cosmetically inclined haughtiness to contrast her conceit against Stacy’s honest efforts.  Though Funess essentially wraps the story around two actresses, the extent of supporting actors is limited to the exact same number with Gemma Remington as another blonde, actress acquittance and/or rival to Stacy and Zachary Grant as a casting filmmaking who has unspoken quirks about his character Sascha that are told through his rather distinct distilled friendliness and the way Funess and Corentin Leroux frame him by cropping out portions of his body by the frame itself or by objects, as if hiding bits and pieces of his truth in obscurity.  Both Remington and Grant’s scenes are brief and spliced in to add to the stress of an actress’s day-in-a-life, to terraform the the gossipy, cutthroat world, and, in earnest, to be more a grounding third-dimensional force that doesn’t allow Josey to be the only other character for Stacy to bounce off of, yet the characters do add impact with the peripheral killer with Remington’s gruesome news update of another blonde-headed body found as well as hinting at the killer’s possible modus operandi of how he selects, hunts, and dispatches his victims and Grant going further with that idea with a seemingly irrelevant and odd casting couch method depicted with Stacey on screen and with Josey off-screen told anecdotally through her perception, and from both experiences may leave breadcrumb clues toward a suspect without ever divulging concrete evidence toward an unnamed and masked killer rarity making an appearance in the film.

Like most moviegoers might experience, my eyes bored with interest into the unique title.  So much so, my mind started an imagination factory of possibilities there could be inside the encoded disc.  A true-blue slasher initially became settled on with a conventional killer stalking, hunting, and the eventual demise of the titular, ill-fated blondes and while that sort of terminus concept is hackneyed beyond repair, excitement still bubbles to the surface because the method itself sells from it’s tried and true history with genre fans and general audiences alike.  “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” is not that kind of film.  You can label it a deconstructive or backwards slasher, but the subgenre thriller has deeper drama roots in the grounded character conflict garden, blossoming more toward a psychological thriller with a rear mirror, background view of a niche specific serial killer.  Funess’s film is akin to some apocalyptic thrillers of an impending, world-ending devastator on the horizon that you know is coming but it’s the interpersonal dynamics, or maybe even political and authoritarian moments, leading up to that catastrophe that are the heart-and-soul of the story.  Funess’s film is very much a slice of life rather than a slice of flesh with an eye for framed shot, the draw of contention through personal hindrance and envy, the melting mindset stemmed by failure, and it’s an overall celebration of performance by the cast in a story with minimal violence because the violence itself is at the very back of the mind, forgotten almost as these young blonde women continue to strive for just an ounce of limelight no matter the cost that stares directly at their faces. 

Anchor Bay continues to release rebellious films on their revamped label with “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” now available on Blu-ray.  Stored on a single-layered BD25, the AVC encoded high-definition film, 1080p resolution, is presented in widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  Image wise, the picture captures natural appearances with a soft grading that lightly brightens the image.  There is some excellent use of blacks that are solid and deep with crush but works to the advantage of the scene to create a void tension of what’s inside’s it’s inkiness.  Skin textures are fair with some smoothing over of texture, but the tones appear organic and consistent throughout; the same can be said about fabric and surface textures in a range of settings and outfits that add unconscious concentrated coatings to the mise-en-scene.  The English 5.1 DTS-HD MA audio is overkill for a dialogue and score-driven soundtrack narrative but does provide clean conversation with plenty of clarity and no interference.  The back and side channels are less utilized with most of the action held within camera lens view, reducing any kind of non-diegetic milieu activity to the flutter of soft intrusions.  Sergei Kofman’s delicate perceptible score hangs in the rafters for the most part but does come down form time-to-time when needed to either build tension and show discourse in Stacey’s life/wellbeing as she struggles to get ahead with acting gigs. The special features include a scene-by-scene breakdown audio commentary from writer-director Nick Funess and executive producer-cinematographer Coretin Leroux. Anchor Bay’s Blu-ray is encased in a standard Blu-ray Amaray with a white, yellow, and poker hot red artwork of a splattered star with Stacey’s face inside staring back out at you. A leafy insert depicts the same primary artwork plus additional, similar artwork. Clocking in just above an hour at 65 minutes, “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” has region free playback and is unrated.

Last Rites: “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered” is a hard sell as a backwards slasher but the unsettling disseminating of ruthless Hollywood is a methodology projecting hopelessness, defeating, and hostility, metaphorically represented by a killer on the hunt for blonde actresses and could pop into frame at any moment.

Not Red Heads, Not Brunettes, Blondes! “Young Blondes, Stalked and Murdered!” on Blu-ray!

Never Trust an EVIL Trucker with a Drug and Prostitute Addiction! “The Bunny Game” reviewed! (Jinga Films, Danse Macabre, MVDVisual / DVD)

“The Bunny Game” is Not for a Weak Stomach! Now on DVD!

Bunny, a prostitute on the streets of Los Angeles, subjects herself to the lowest of clientele lists looking to exploit her services with their own abusive fetishisms.  Just to get by to her next meal.   Bunny is constantly in coked out state when tricking becomes nearly unbearable.  Manhandled, abused, and unconsciously raped, there seems to be no end, and she must persevere to survive the streets, beautifying and feeding herself physical and mental nourishment to keep up strength.   When she encounter’s a trucker named Hog, Bunny’s just looking to endure another insufferable John, but Hog has other plans for Bunny, kidnapping her, driving somewhere isolated, and chaining her up deep within his trailer, and tormenting and torturing her to a different kind of no end Bunny has never experienced.  Hog’s derangement is fueled by his extreme drug use in what is not his first rodeo with working in whores for his own personal enjoyment and the girls’ own personal Hell. 

Banned in the UK, “The Bunny Game” is an extreme torture porn horror based off the real events that happened to principal star Rodleen Getsic with being abducted.  There’s not much publicly known on her own horrible experience, but the “The Bunny Game” is a baseline shockumentary written in collaboration between Getsic and filmmaker Adam Rehmeier with in the director’s chair of his debut feature film.  Rehmeier, director and cinematographer of numerous music videos and shorts, conjures up a story and a completed film with singer-actress Getsic without ever materializing an official script.  Instead, improvising and extemporizing fluff up Rehmeier’s storyboarding bullet points of where people and places should be in the narrative construct, hence why much of the story goes without dialogue, replaced with frenetic visuals and montages of recalcitrant convention.  Rehmeier co-produced the film under his company Death Mountain Productions alongside Rodleen Getsic.

For having been abducted herself and for the film to be an overemphasis of it, Getsic steps into the main role’s fishnet stockings to be the used and abused sex worker, known only in the credits as Bunny, and the role is no walk in the park or for the faint of heart.  Bunny is a self-inflicted punishing performance and mostly what you see on screen being inflicted upon Bunny is genuinely be done to Getsic which includes branding of the caduceus symbol on her back, as well as the same symbol seared into the flesh of Getsic’s friend, Drettie Page, who was game to receive much of the same for-the-story, for-the-film punishment as another victim of Hog in, supposedly, flashback sequences.  Hog is played by Jeff F. Renfro, a regular in the industry for his transportation services owning a big rig and tractor-trailer, but as the formidable serial killer Hog, Renfro brings and matches the intensity of “The Bunny Game’s” near free for all improvisation and experimentation provocation.  Getsic’s willingness to go the extra mile, from being branded, lighting scored by knife play, having her head shaved, is equally matched by Renfro’s being the recipient of being spit in the face, handling the fondling and the other physical exploitation of Getsic and Page, and being a total wild eyed, masked and shirtless, top of his lungs maniac with a mindset that’s cruel and oppressive with another human being’s life in his hands.  Dynamically, it’s a cat playing with a mouse, a deplorable show of chauvinism, and a callously cruel picture of control with the players in full control and full acceptance of their characters.  Gregg Gilmore, Loki, Curtis Reynolds, and Norwood Fisher cast a supporting line to trawl the Rehmeier, and what Rodleen Getstic refers to, monsterpiece

Rehmeier and Getsic have both been recorded stating every action on screen, aside from the excess drug and alcohol use, is 100% real.  Now, “The Bunny Game” immediately slaps viewers in the face with Bunny on her kneeds giving extended, adult industry-enthusiastic, fellatio to some unknown man only shown from his clothed backside at mid-section down to the top of the knee.  While not as sloppy as one might think despite Getsic’s vigorous efforts, the opening oral provides that provocative, eye-opening, banned-in-the-UK scene that now has snuck insidiously in the recesses of our minds and, in conjunction with the previous Rehmeier and Getsic authentic claims that never really specifying sex as one of them, audiences will wonder if what they’re subjected to is in fact a real act of oral sex.  To digress briefly, what’s the deal with movies with Bunny in the title (“The Bunny Game,” “Brown Bunny”) and oral sex?  From there, if you’re not disgusted by the voyeurism and chauvinism of sex work and misogyny, you’re digging Rehmeier’s film and hooked with curiosity tied to Bunny’s unfortunate fate, but what ensues embodies the essence of a crazed industrial music video of minor, discordance chords that produce harsh sounds and tones to envelope the choppy and cutting editing that shatters linear time, as well as the struggling soul, especially in montages of maniacal torture and onset introspective  between the punishment giver and taker in the Hog and Bunny intersection that will instill a catalytic crossroad for one of them.   There’s plenty of empathy to be had for Bunny, or maybe even sympathy if one has gone through similar abduction, torture, or has had a previous life on the streets, but the coarse nature of Hog’s slow and measured wrath can certainly be felt in the 1 hour and 16-minute runtime as revisiting Bunny for another dash of screaming, laughing, and misuse of her body and being at the hands of Hog is often on a wash, rinse, and repeat cycle of cynicism, an unavoidable problematic staleness often associated with films that do not have a shooting script, or any script for that matter.  Ideas tend to run dry and the then cornered concept is to bedazzle with nonstop bedlam but the fresh frenzy of exploitation is often fleeting and expires a lot quicker than the film’s runtime does.

A tale of street tragedy and what should be an always constant reminder that deranged killers are here, there, and everywhere, “The Bunny Game” scores high in extreme exploitation within its experimental execution.  Jinga Films, Danse Macabre, and MVDVisual bring the corrosively cuddly film back onto DVD after the original Autonomy Pictures release has been out of print for a while.  The single layer DVD5’s codec is of MPEG-2 compression and presented in 720p resolution in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio.  The achromatic black and white image stacks additional bleakness to the already soulless content with a low field of contrast creating borderless shadows but the use of handheld key lighting, aka flashlight, does create a miniscule delineation at times when under a blank of black.  Blacks succeed in being solid for the most part with only a couple instances of minor banding which is pretty good DVD compression, likely a result of the zero color to encode and decode.  The English LPCM Stereo is not a girthy mix of dialogue, soundtrack, and ambience.  Now, all three elements exist, but since “The Bunny Game” has zero script, there’s not much in the way of conversating and what’s there is prominent enough amongst the layers of industrial jarring dissonance that, at times, beats in sync with the visceral montages.  Inside the mic recording scope, ambience comes and goes based off the intensity of the scene and score but there are quieter moments to reflect on the improper handling of Bunny with Hog and the other indiscriminately disgusting Johns her life as a prostitute absorbs.  Special features include an archival Caretaking the Monster behind-the-scenes interviews with cast and crew, including actors Rodleen Getsic, Jeff Renfro, Greg Gilmore, and director Adam Rehmeier, discussin the original concept that was more aligned with Getsic’s personal abduction accounts but then evolved into something more horrifying that lead to the casting of Renfro, their isolated locations, and the realism inflicted upon Getsic as well as the teaser and theatrical trailer.  The DVD packaging is much the same as previous editions with a video aesthetic resembling black and white contrast but unlike previous releases, the cover art shows off its graphically artistic masked bunny in shackle design that speaks to the content.  The Jinga, Danse Macabre Danse, and MVD release lists this as a rated R release whereas the previous version was unrated; however, both releases have a 76-minute runtime.  A quick review suggests this “R” cut is actually the same as previous versions.  The DVD also has region free playback.

Last Rites: This game is not for the faint of heart. “The Bunny Game” tests willpower to stay through to the end, through the torture, rape, and the real violence in a one-sided acrid affair. If you can survive the brutality, this game is for you.

“The Bunny Game” is Not for a Weak Stomach! Now on DVD!

Luther the Berserk has EVIL Plans in the Bayou! “The Naked Witch” reviewed! (VCI / Blu-ray)

A string of horrific murders of beautiful women becomes the study of a six-person team of paranormal researchers who head down to the Louisiana swamplands surrounded by notorious superstition and urban legend for once being the home of witchcraft.  One of the researches, Tasia, is a sensitive, a highly psychic receptive woman and student of team leader, Dr. Hayes, to sense the area’s extrasensory waves thought to be behind the murders, especially the ones of a satanic ritualized nature.  On the isolated island, encircled by swamp and gators, a powerful Satan acolyte known as Luther the Berserk seeks to spellbound Tasia to complete his coven of witches and evokes the help of Jessie, a haggard crone with the ability of mind control over those with sensitive abilities.  One-by-one, the researchers are being picked off for the blood ritual and it’s up to the survivors to stop Luther before it’s too late.

A bold psychotronic of the 1960s, “The Naked Witch” has a tingly macabre aura about it that’s not swinging, swanky, nor is it groovy.  Also known primarily as “The Witchmaker,” there’s a thick circumference of dread and darkness surrounding the William O. Brown written-and-directed picture.  Brown’s sophomore film behind the 1965 “One Way Whaine” comedy about Hawaiian babes and bank robbers is a stark 180 degrees four years later that showcased the filmmaker’s range from laughs to terror on the cusp of the early days of the Satanic scare.    “The Naked Witch” has also been reissued as “Witchkill,” The Witchmaster,” and “The Legend of Witch Hollow” and while Brown’s film goes by many monikers, one thing is for certain is the film was shot partially on location in the mucky swamps of Louisiana during exterior locations whie the remaining interiors were in a Los Angeles studio.  The U.S.A. made film was produced by Brown with L.Q. Jones serving as executive producer and released independently under LQ/JAF Productions.

Personally, horror films like “The Naked Witch” that were produced through the 1950s and into the 1960s always share mixed feeling that can only be described as from “the content is revolutionary for Americana horror post-World War II cinema” to “the stiff, exposition acting just doesn’t work with the grim nature of the ahead of its time story,” and as Marty McFly once said back in 1955, “I guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet.”  There’s nothing inherently bad about “The Night Witch’s” acting other than the lack of emotional weight from the troupe needed to lift up and be on the same level as the story that includes hanging half-naked women upside, slitting their throats, and drinking their blood out of chalices in a coven on satanic confluence.  “Revenge is my Destiny’s” John Lodge is the exception that goes against the stagey type of stilted acting grain as lead satanist apostle Luther the Berserk, flashing devil hand gestures and acting like a wild man in his ravaging role that’s ambitiously true to character and subtly perverse in blood and in lust. The same passion portrayal of character is not extended the principal leads of “Green Acres’” Alvy Moore and “Deep Space’s” Anthony Eisley playing a pair of opposing scientists – Moore as the more supernaturally open-minded Dr. Ralph Hayes and Eisley has the rigid in rationality Dr. Victor Gordon.  Their conflict of beliefs creates another subplot satellite that abides by superstition and lore as well as the division it produces, a decent representation of the overall contrarianism inside people as a group, then you have Tasia, a medium struggling with her powers being pulled in two different directions.  The European heritage and Canadian born blonde knockout Thordis Brandt steps out of the saucy side role and into one of her more prominent performances as the Sensitive who is manipulated by Luther’s unholy powers over the coven.   The coven and researcher cast rounds out with Shelby Grant, Tony Benson, Robyn Millan, Burt Mustin, Warrene Ott, Helene Winston, Carolyn Rhodimer, Larry Vincent, Patricia Wymer, Del Kaye, Diane Webber, Valya Garanda, Gwen Lipscomb, Nancy Crawford, and Sue Bernard. 

“The Naked Witch” is not as graphic as one would assume with such a scandalous, provocative title.  Again, you must remember, the film is originally titled “The Witchmaker.”  Yet, for a 1960’s horror, William O. Brown’s satanic sorcery picture is too advanced for the era’s mostly puritanical audience.  I’d even go as far as saying “The Naked Witch” borders the line between the foggy and gloomy atmospherics and set productions of Gothic Hammer and the ever-close-to-the-edge designed no nudity or graphic death coverups of an early Russ Meyer production sans the zany cartoon sounds and the rapid-fire editing.  An abundant of dread hangs in the air of starched collars and secretary skirts that conjures more than just the Devil’s presence in the bayou but a heavy dealt hand of a no-win situation full of desperation and death.  The story itself evolves from the brutal, ritualistic killings of strung up and stripped naked young, beautiful women to a more focused objective of converting Sensitive Tasia into a full-fledged witch that completes Luther’s coven and resurrects his master for a diabolical Hell on Earth.   The broader strokes of “The Naked Witch’s” narrative places the fate in the hands of a group of students and naïve ignoramuses playing catchup to what’s really happening under their noses.  Of course, alarm bells never go off and panic never really sets in for the group of survivors after each death in what is more like an aw-shucks and move on reaction.  Granted the team is stuck on the island for a few days with no way to call for help but that doesn’t mean being not proactive or being crippled by fear doesn’t have a place amongst them and in the story, especially missing opportunities within the researchers to turn on each other by way of Luther’s manipulating witch, Jesse, who herself has her own drastic motivation with a blood ritual that make her young again. 

“The Naked Witch” is fairly cladded with atmosphere and ghoulish intentions instead of the mentioned nudity but the new VCI 2-Disc Format Blu-ray and DVD release provides the bare essentials with a restored 35mm archival print into 4K-UHD scan.  Presented in a widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio, the grading is rich and overall image and details look pleasing with depth in most scenes and grain is era appropriate appeasing.  Skin tones shade a little more toward orange but maintain within spec but on the higher end of a RGB.  The print has sustained some damaged with a slew of scratches, dust and dirt, and cell burns peppered throughout and can be a nuisance but nothing terribly critical to warrant narrative loss or a complete loss of viewing pleasure.  The English Dolby Digital Mono track offers little to try and immerse viewers into the swampy bayou and that’s a real shame since visual elements are detailed.  There’s minor background noise is palpable but not distinct to warrant attention.  Dialogue and the Bolivian born and “The Town that Dreaded Sundown’s” Jaime Mendoza-Nava’s gypsy-esque and minor key brass and percussion score are the heavy hitters in this presentation.  Dialogue has insignificant hissing and crackling but as a whole, the track comes over clean enough to firm pass well over grade.  Option subtitles are available.  The only encoded bonuses are a 2024 commentary track by film enthusiast and artist Robert Kelly and a poster gallery that include not just “The Naked Witch” but other 60’s horror pictures.  VCI’s standard Blu-ray incasement has one-sided still picture and illustrated compositional artwork that roughly produces the madness incarnated with the DVD on right and the Blu-ray on the left inside, individual pressed with images from the front cover.  The region free disc has a runtime of 99 minutes and the film is rated R.

Last Rites: “The Naked Witch” has no skin in the game in its necromancy ways but finds the fog of dread easy to become lost in with interesting characters and a ghoulish witch and ritual vise gripping it on both ends on a verge of being something more.

“The Naked Witch” on Dual Format DVD/Blu-ray from VCI!

The Holidays Are Over, but the EVIL Remains With Us in this Cookie-Cutter Classic “The Gingerdead Man” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray)

Get Ready to Chomp on this Cookie! “The Gingerdead Man” Blu-ray Available Here!

Cold-hearted, mama’s boy killer, Millard Findlemeyer, brutally gun downs Sarah Leigh’s father and brother before wounding during a diner robbery.  Two years later, Findlemeyer is executed with the help of Sarah’s damning testimony and the traumatized survivor attempts to pick up the pieces of her life by keeping her crumbling family bakery business afloat.  With her mother a raging alcoholic and a competing business threatening to shut the business down, Sarah doesn’t realize the gingerbread seasoning dropped off at her doorstep is actually the ashes of the evil Findlemeyer.  Thrown in a gingerbread mix and baked to live again, Findlemeyer returns to continue his carnage but as a delectably devilish cookie sporting candied buttons and wielding a knife.  Trapped inside the bakery, a handful of survivors are being more-than-gingerly picked off one-by-one by Findlemeyer’s possession of a pint-sized cookie and Sarah must face again the evil that destroyed her family.  

“The Gingerdead Man” is one of Full Moon’s more contemporary repeat villains this side of the century.  Christmas may be over, but the holiday cookie carnage doesn’t just pack on the pounds, it also can shred and cut the waist, literally, with guts spilling out everywhere.  The Charles Brand directed, 2005 film that kicked off the icing for not one, not two, but three sequels and a timeline intertwinement with Full Moon’s “Evil Bong” series.  Pot and cookies, a perfect combination when blazed.  The script was penned by Full Moon regular and “Night of the Living Dead” remake actor William Butler, under the pseudonym of Silvia St. Croix, and fellow Full Moon regular Dominic Muir (“Critters,” “Doll Graveyard”), under the pseudonym of August White.  Filmed in Los Angeles, the indie horror-comedy is a Shoot Productions and Full Moon coproduction venture with Band producing and Dana Harrloe serving as executive producer. 

Adding to “The Gingerdead Man’s already zany resurrecting the evil dead into a baked good concept (there’s nothing good about this cookie monster), the untamed energy and distinguished voiceover from Gary Busey is better than self-rising flour for this doughy production.  The “Predator 2” and “Lethal Weapon” actor headlines as the despicable killer Millard Findelmeyer but only in the flesh for the opening diner sequence that establishes Findelmeyer as a coldblooded murderer.  The backstory of his apprehension, trial, and execution is whisked into a frothy afterthought after the title credits to establish more of Robin Sydney’s Sarah Leigh character of rebuilding her life.  Sydney, who would become Charles Band’s wife nearly two decades later after debuting in this role, reserves Sarah into a stasis of plugging along into a woe-as-me state as a setup for her to be heroine nemesis to Findlemeyer’s flaky, killer crust.  What’s neat about her character, along with a handful of other principal characters, is they’re subtly and smartly named after notable cookie making companies.  Sarah Leigh is an obvious rework of the frozen desserts company Sara Lee, Ryan Locke, an unlikely Sarah Leigh love interest cladded and carried by all things from early 2000s, is Amos Cadbury, a mixed play on Famous Amos and Cadbury confectionary, and Jonathan Chase as commercial wrestling enthusiast Brick Fields lends to believe the character’s name pulls inspiration from Mrs. Fields soft baked cookies.  There’s also the corporate-commercial takeover statement with an adjacent restaurant that threatens to put Sarah’s bakery out of business and the owner’s name is Jimmy Dean, as in the sausage company, with Larry Cedar (“The Hidden,” “C.H.U.D. II”) in the role.  Alexia Aleman, Margaret Blye, Daniela Melgoza, and James Synder fill out the cast.

Kitschy personification horror is all the rage in the independent genre circle.  Murderous dolls at are dime a dozen, but a few outliers stray into something more risking and adventures, like an evil llama pinata in “Killer Pinata,” a wicked snowman in “Jack Frost,” or even a killer unicorn standing figure in “CarousHELL” that make the niche subgenre fascinatingly tacky for all the right reasons.  Charles Band and team tap into that peculiar ripe vein to extract their own usually joyous, kid-friendly object and transfigure its G-rated image to a hard R with death, sass, and a whole bunch of mischief and what better wholesome inanimate object to vilify than a scrumptious gingerbread man?  Voiced by Busey and animated by the always preferred practical means, “The Gingderdead Man” evokes promises of a so-bad-its-good composite, especially since the antagonist for this franchise starter fits right into the Full Moon small things come in killer packages niche, and while half of “The Gingerdead Man” delivers on a havoc-wreaking spiced cookie, the execution, as a whole, leaves much to be desired by whirling through a two year story gap of the capture and execution of Findlemeyer and how and why his malevolent essence is mixed into the batter for resurrection.  The slapdashedly before and after title credits causes a brief loss of thought as the brain frantically tries to catch up and fill in the gaps as much of the images and exposition haphazardly piece together.  The Gingerdead Man isn’t also quite as quippy as his human form counterpart, but a ton of appreciation goes into the multiple renditions of the distorted faced Gingerdead Man character from hand puppets, to animatronics, to full size human suit provides that breadth of range in angles, perspectives, and appearances that shape a personality package to where dialogue can nearly be neutralized altogether.  “The Gingerbread Man” lives and breathes as its marketed image, a mediocre kill possession-slasher with a bunch of characters scratching their heads instead of building upon who they are and what hurdles, figuratively and literally, to jump, the latter mostly falls into the hands of Sarah Leigh and her depression-induced fear, an aspect she has to face when being revisited by the man who killed her father and brother. 

An all-new transfer and remastered from the original 35mm elements, Full Moon Features re-bakes “The Gingerdead Man” onto a new physical media cookie sheet.  The AVC encoded, 1080p resolution, BD25, presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio, had elevated some lower resolution complications with better definition appeal but the overall package isn’t an epitome showcase of the format possibilities with softer contrasts that leaves voids and shadows milkier, textures fluctuate during decode that sways in a range between 15 to 25 Mbps, and minor damaged portions, such as light scratches and speckling, are not touched up in the restoration.  Skin tones and other colorist applications appear organic and, when reaching peak performance, displays a nicely diffused sweat sheen in the lighting.  Two English, lossy audio options are available, a Dolby Digital 5.1 and a Stereo 2.0.  A clean and clear presentation on all layers with an amalgamated cast that just as good as any other solid sound design with powerful forefront and intelligible dialogue, an above par ambient dispersal that has suitable depth and range, and a Roger Ballenger carnivalesque score that isn’t from Richard Band but is a great mimic.  English subtitles are available.  Extras include an archival behind-the-scenes featurette with interviews with cast, crew, and Charles Band with some BTS-footage in creating the cookie monster, a blooper reel, the original trailer, and trailers for other Full Moon features.  Front cover on the Amaray Blu-ray is an illustrated composition of characters that clue in a sense of what to expect but other than that, this standard re-release has physical bare bones.  The region free release has a runtime of 71 minute and is not rated.

Last Rites: Though doesn’t reinvent the recipe nor does it not make this naughty killer cookie stale, “The Gingerdead Man” has come a long way with a new, revitalizing release onto a high-definition format pulled from the extensive and vast Full Moon catalogue that’s slowly but surely updating the filmic cache. This schlocky bad baked good should surely be in everyone’s holiday horror collection.

Get Ready to Chomp on this Cookie! “The Gingerdead Man” Blu-ray Available Here!