Tag Archives: Robin Sydney

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

Posted by Steven Lewis on

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!

Beer Can Stuff Boots Give EVIL a New Height! “The Lost” reviewed! (Ronin Flix / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Click Here to Purchase “The Lost” on Blu-ray!

Sociopathic teen-adult Ray Pye guns down two young women he suspects are romantically involved with each other and wants to feel the thrill of the kill for the first time with his two friends, Jennifer and Tim, as frightened, reluctant witnesses and abettors to his heinous crime.  Four years later, police investigation can’t pinpoint Pye as the culprit when the only surviving victim succumbs to her wounds after being in a coma all this time.  Pye, the slicked haired, pathological liar and assistant manager of his mother’s motel, continues his nice boy act as he peddles drugs and tries to woo any girl into bed while having a firm, feared grip on best friend Tim and girlfriend Jennifer to keep them in line.  As Pye chases after new women that enter in his world, the police continue their unofficial investigation, waiting for Pye to slip up and make a mistake but as his manipulation backfires and things don’t go his way, Pye’s already unstable nature morphs into an all-in, serial killer rampage and kidnapping of the three prominent women that have recently challenged his masculinity.

A real down spiral of machoism and growing up out of the adolescent fantasy world, “The Lost” is the 2006, loosely based biopic thriller inspired by real-life serial killer, the Pied Piper of Tucson, Charles Schmid interpreted from the book of the same title by late horror novelist Jack Ketchum.  This part II of our serial killer film review coverage, following the Robert “Willy” Pickton Canadian murders inspiring “Pig Killer,” “The Lost” bring us back to American murderers and is the first solo feature run for writer-and-director Chris Sivertson.   The father-son duo Mike and Lucky McKee, the filmmakers behind “May” and “Roman” co-produce “The Lost” alongside Sivertson and Shelli Merrill under the production company banners of Silver Web Productions.

To play Ray Pye, the actor must incarnate being on the edge of principles and be crazed to the point of no return.   For Marc Senter, Ray Pye was a means to break from minor television roles and star as a leading man defying principal conventions in being the best bad guy he could cook up.  Senter, who went on to be in credited roles of “Wicked Lake,” “Cabin Fever 2:  Spring Fever,” and “Old Man,” will forever be seen as the crushed soda can-filled boot wearing and greaser veneered Ray Pye as the boyish-looking Colorado native brings the ferocity, the energy, and the killer instinct of a high-strung teen teetering the line of losing it all.  Senter’s approach rides on insecure masculinity of being a short man showing teeth to appear larger than life and exacts a screen perforating fear that holds friends Jennifer (Shay Aster, “Ernest Scared Stupid”) and Tim (Alex Frost, “Elephant”) in a tail-between-the-leg stasis of his end all, be all despot presence.  Aside from the Ray Pye storyline, a trio of sub-stories add more development and substance to other principal characters, such as Tim and Jennifer hooking up dictated by them inching out from under Ray Pye’s reach, a washed out midlife Detective (Ed Lauter, “Cujo”), who was formerly on the Ray Pye investigation, and his romantic involvement with a Pye pursuant Sally (Megan Henning, “I Know Who Killed Me”), who is approx. 40-years the Detective’s junior that creates an intriguing, struggling dichotomy between love and appearance, and with the alluring Katherine Wallace (Full Moon regular actress Robin Sydney, “Evil Bong” franchise) in a love-hate, obstinate relationship with an absent psychotic mother and her fondness for Ray in who on some levels mirrors the same qualities as Katherine’s mother.  Michael Bowen (“Deadgirl”), Dee Wallace (“Cujo”), Tom Ayers (“Bloody Bridget”), Cynthia Cervini, Richard Riehle (“3 From Hell”), and to compound skin scenes, soft-core erotic starlets Erin Brown (aka Misty Mundae, “An Erotic Werewolf in London”), and Elise Larocca (“Blood for the Muse”) co-star.

What first struck me about Sivertson’s “The Lost” is it doesn’t define a period in time.  Charles Schmid’s reign of terror coursed the span of a year in the mid-to-late 60s, which follow’s Ketchum’s timeline in the novel.  Yet, the books’ characters follow the movie’s scheme without clearly stating the years, stringing the connection between the three like step-relationships.  Pye’s greaser finish, drive-in burger joints, boxy-rectangle cars and VW Beetles, and a motel as one of the principal shooting locations float in the very essence of the title itself, as a Lost in time story that stretches the decades.  What’s not lost is the aggressive sexual nature that drives the nihilistic Ray Pye’s bedding scorecard by feigned compassion and romance; yet there’s plenty depth behind his sleazy cockiness that warrants more discussion into his problematic psyche, such as how he’s able to charm the pants of these women and how he’s able to keep those who fear him, close to him.  Sivertson’s unafraid to make a statement in “The Lost’s” sexuality with plenty of skin from a number of the principal actresses to the simulated sexual acts in and out the vein of style and in and out of Pye’s sociopathic tantrums that’s more self-doubting bullying than actual power.  At a young age, Pye aims high for machohood by the misguided dealings of the cards he’s dealt, augmenting himself with shoe stuffers and makeup to make him taller and more attractive.  “The Lost” is very much a deconstruction of masculinity mania in the way we see Pye’s worlds comes crashing down and he loses everything when his guard is down by one swift moment of real, tangible love with Katherine and the only way to gain back control, like a hissy-fitting baby, is to go berserk in a if I can’t have it, nobody will tear. 

Evil never looked so dapper as “The Lost” receives a new 2K remaster produced from a 4K scan of the original camera negative by the boutique label Ronin Flix.  The AVC encoded, 1080p, high-definition BD50 contains the presented anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1 film with pixel-by-pixel coherence exacting extensive details and chromatic fidelity.  What stuck out the most from the 4K scan was the night scenes blanked in near sheer darkness with minimal direction illumination from natural and unnatural lighting in a positive, well, light.  In night forest scenes, especially around the lake, objects are lost in the void of shadows, tenebrously covered in obscurity, and that’s accomplished and accentuated in the opening moments of Ray Pye’s debut double murder, creating a better illusion of reality rather than creating an illusion out of often folly fabrication of dark blue gels or immense random key lighting.  Textures are strong through, greatly defined by the delineating of edges on striking clothing, cars, and the amount of skin displayed.  Two lossless English audio options are available to select from:  a 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio and a 2.0 Stereo DTS-HD Master Audio.  “The Lost’s” audio/video design produces a high fidelity and contains a blend of unprocessed and stylistic expression that stretch the audio range depending on the current Ray Pye Richter scaled mood.  Pye’s occasional rapid-fire rants are unmistakable and clear as the decoding unfolds every syllable without sounding seamless or garbled.  English SDH are optionally available.  Ronin Flix delivers new and previously owned special features.  New content like an audio commentary with director Chris Sivertson and Lucky Mckee serve as a trip down memory lane with new, pondered upon insights and recalled tales and new individualized interviews with principal actors Marc Senter, Robin Sydney, and Shay Astar in regard to auditioning, prepping for the role, and recalling their experience on the shoot expand more into “The Lost’s” attention and what it took to illuminate focus on the Pied Piper of Tucson.  A second, archival commentary with writer Monica O’Rourke moderating conversation with late novelist Jack Ketchum, audition tapes, outtakes, storyboard sequence, and the original “Jack and Jill” short film directed by Chris Sivertson fill out the special features.  A new front cover design, replacing the bland bullet hole-riddled and blood-puddled eyes cover on the Anchor Bay DVD and Blu-ray, on the trio of cardboard O-slipcover, translucent Blu-ray Amaray case, and disc art spruces up the Ronin Flix’s lifted release with a sense of hep threads and fatal knuckle sandwiches.; however, that’s about the extent of its physical beauty and tangible adjuncts.  The region free Blu-ray comes not rated and has a runtime of 119 minutes.  Marc Senter’s tour de force burns rubber, a ferocity of friction and perpetual anger sculps one of the best true-to-life silver screen villains from the last two decades. 

Click Here to Purchase “The Lost” on Blu-ray!