Halloween 2021: October 26th

The Boy Behind the Door (2021)

Horror, as a genre, is frequently about pushing boundaries. About confronting audiences with topics that make them uncomfortable, with invoking dread by addressing That Which We Do Not Speak Of. And yet, sometimes, some topics are so taboo and controversial that, well, a filmmaker has to be completely fucking clueless or have great big brass balls to make a movie about it. I'm of the opinion that no topic should be off-limits in art but some require extra sensitivity and care. These are the thoughts rattling around inside my head after watching "The Boy Behind the Door," a buzzy 2021 horror release about the topic of child sexual abuse. Obviously, this review comes with a big ol' trigger warning for that reason alone. 

Bobby and Kevin are both about ten years old. They're best friends who dream of running away to California together. While hanging out in a field one day, they are abducted by an unseen assailant. Bobby awakens in the trunk of a car, tied up. He discovers himself in a strange home where a man exchanges a large sum of money for some sort of service: Bobby realizes he is that service. That he's been abducted into a child sex trafficking operation. And that Kevin is chained up in the basement, waiting for the next pervert to come along. Bobby is determined to rescue his friend and get them both out alive. 

"The Boy Behind the Door" is the feature debut of David Charbonier and Justin Powell. The directing team clearly know how to create some striking images. The house is heavy with shadows. The image of a rickety oil pump outside the home, silhouetted against the evening sky, is an impressive reoccurring visual. While the first half of the movie is heavy on a shrieking sound deign and ominous noise, a grim tension escalates in the second half. Charbonier and Powell are good at generating prolonged suspense, putting their young heroes in tight situations that only get worse. More than once, the kids have to hide as someone approaches or are forced to reckon with someone trying to force their way into their hiding place. The directors are confident enough, and their film effective enough, that they even get away with visually quoting "The Shining."

And yet, all throughout "The Boy Behind the Door," I found myself wishing we knew more about these two boys. The film runs a lean eighty-eight minutes. It doesn't take long to get the grim stuff. A short prologue establishes the boys' friendship and their shared desire for escape before the horror begins. Both young actors, Lonnie Chavis as Bobby and Ezra Dewey as Kevin, are excellent. They give physical, committed performances that send them through the full emotional gauntlet. Yet we never learn anything else about these kids. Why do they want to run away to California? Are their home lives also abusive? Is their friendship, which seems very intense, developing into something more than platonic? Is that why they want to run away? They wear Little League uniforms but even that detail is kept vague. The movie still works. You still root for these kids to escape, because how could you not? When they finally turn the tables on their abductor, it's cathartic as hell. But I wish it took a little more time to get to know Bobby and Kevin before thrusting them into this nightmare. 

The real question floating around "The Boy Behind the Door" is: Is it good enough to justify tackling such a disturbing, real world topic? The script flips expectations in some ways but follows other clichés closely. The police are useless. The villain pursues the kids doggedly. The last act has the boys fleeing into the woods, feeling a lot like a slasher movie. There's an effective twist concerning the identity of the boys' abductor. But this flashy narrative misdirect really has no deeper meaning other than to catch the audience off-guard. The disturbing subject matter certainly makes the movie more intense. Yet you could've made the villains vampires or whatever and everything else about the film would've worked just as well. 

I suppose I'm still debating the merits of "The Boy Behind the Door." It's a really well made and effective horror thriller, with strong performances and promising stars. I still don't know if it was necessary to build a taunt genre exercise around such a triggering, disturbing topic. For what it's worth, the movie is just shy of exploitative but the threat of sexual violation hangs in the air the whole time. The film was impressive enough to get Charbonier and Powell's follow-up funded, which has already been finished and released. As for their debut, it's a film I can't deny the power of. It's going to stick with me for a while. But I'm still sorting out whether it was worth it or not. [7/10]

Laserblast (1978)

For me, now and forever, Charles Band will be the face of Full Moon, that studio that lined nineties video store shelves with low budget but charmingly comic book-like movies about killer puppets and time traveling super-cops. (And with the increasing diminished returns from that same brand name in the last twenty years.) Of course, Mr. Band's history in the film industry goes back way further than that. Movie-making is something like the family business for him, as his dad was a director. Full Moon, of course, arose out of the ashes of Empire Pictures, where Band produced classics like “Re-Animator” and “From Beyond.” Yet even before that, Charlie was making monster movies through his eponymous company, Charles Band Production. There he made flicks like “Tourist Trap,” “The Day Time Ended,” and “Laserblast,” the topic of today's review. 

Billy is a teenager, living in a small town in the middle of the Californian desert. His mom often leaves him alone, he's harassed by the local cops, and older boys bully and tease him. His girlfriend Cathy is the only person who seems to like him. While driving around the desert one day, he comes across an enormous laser cannon and a magical necklace. The combination of these objects turns Billy into a green-skinned ghoul, who uses the cannon's explosion power to get revenge on those who have wronged him. He is unaware of these changes but noticing the physical effects the device is having on his body. Little does he know, the aliens who invented this weapon are on their way back to Earth to reclaim it. 

If the above plot description didn't make it obvious, “Laserblast” is a very silly motion picture. The plot feels like it was made-up on the spot and features multiple unexplained leaps in logic. As far as cinematic monsters go, Billy is pretty silly. When transformed, he develops green skin on his face and only his face. (Which makes him look a little like Jim Carrey in “The Mask.”) He growls and grumbles incoherently while wandering around, swaying his hands. The cannon is obviously pretty heavy and causes him to lean to one side while walking. Eventually, the movie all but abandons plot, devolving into increasingly tedious scenes of Billy exploding a series of people and places. Such as a random pinball machine, a hippy in a van, and a “Star Wars” billboard. Which is one of two totally unearned jabs at the seventies sci-fi blockbuster that obviously inspired this one.

Despite its eventual descend into repetitive pyrotechnics, “Laserblast” is sort of fun for a half-hour or so. Before it becomes tiresome, the random inserts of Billy's growling monster face produce some unintentional chuckles. There's a similar kind of delirious goofiness to scenes of him blowing up a car at a drive-in movie theater. The real stars of “Laserblast” are the aliens who are attempting to track Billy down. Created by Dave Allen, about a decade after “Equinox,” they look like bipedal turtles without their shells. They move fluidly and expressively. They chatter in a high-pitched language that isn't quite recognizable as speech. It's honestly hilarious how many long scenes there are devoted to nothing but these goofy aliens quacking among themselves. There's also a hilarious scene, aboard their space ship, where what I presume is their boss tells them to get back to Earth and finish the job they totally half-assed. I'd watch a whole movie about these intergalactic goofballs.

While “Laserblast” presumably wanted to shock or excite viewers with gruesome horror thrills and sci-fi spectacle, it's actually way more interesting as a low-key comedy about the weird people who live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Billy, played listlessly by stage actor Kim Milford, is one of these weirdos himself. He drives around in a van with big footprints on the side and seemingly doesn't own a shirt that buttons all the way. His girlfriend – a completely blank character – lives with her ranting, conspiracy theorist grandfather. One of the bullies includes Eddie Deezen. This was Deezan's first movie but his nasally nerd routine was already established. His highlight is when he repeatedly talks about lightning blowing up a car. Even the cops are oddballs, as the skinny one smokes pot and the fat one always disparages his friend before trying whatever it is he's doing as well. The only normal characters in the film are the special guest victims: That's Roddy McDowell, as the doctor who removes the metallic tumor from Billy's chest, and Keenan Wynn, as the FBI agent tracking the aliens for vaguely defined reasons.

Most of Charles Band's movies were designed as titles and posters first. This tactic – and probably including about thirty different explosions – must have worked for Band. “Laserblast” would become something of a minor cult classic, largely because it's such a goofy mess. It's been re-released on DVD multiple times. Band's company would produce a toy of the aliens recently and he would recycle footage from it for multiple compilations. (Mostly of the aliens.)  An unmade sequel was even announced at one point. By far the greatest honor the film received was being the movie chosen for the last episode of “Mystery Science Theater 3000's” original run. It's not a movie I can love all the way through, as its goofy charm runs out long before it ends, but I'm glad I finally sat down and watched it. [6/10]

Evilspeak (1981)

Let us consider the career of Clint Howard. Brother to the far more famous Ron and son of work-a-day actor Rance, Clint has been working consistently since he was a kid. As a child actor, he starred in “Gentle Ben,” had famous parts on “The Andy Griffth Show” and “Star Trek,” and contributed voice work to several Disney cartoons. As he aged into an adult, his distinctive physical features would get him parts in weirdo comedies and horror movies. No matter how small the part, Howard's off-beat energy always makes them memorable. Roles in trashy flicks like “Leprechaun 2,” “Ticks,” the films of Uwe Boll, and especially “The Ice Cream Man” would win Howard a cult following among horror nerds. Clint's first horror role, and one of his few leading parts, is “Evilspeak.” Which has acquired a certain notorious reputation of its own.

Orphan Stanley Coopersmith is attending a prestigious military academy in California. He has few friends. Forced to play on the school soccer team, he does poorly and secures the wrath of the school bullies. One day, Coopersmith stumbles upon a hidden room under the school's chapel. Instead, he finds the books of Lorenzo Esteban, a Satanic priest that was executed in the 16th century. Using his Apple II computer to translates the books from Latin to English, Coopersmith unknowingly summons the demonic spirit of Esteban. As his torment grows more severe, Coopersmith will use the power of the devil to have his revenge on those who have wronged him. 

“Evilspeak” draws pretty blatantly on “Carrie.” This even includes beginning the film with the characters in gym class, the protagonist being mocked during the game, and being bullied more afterwards in the shower. Yet the film endeavors to make Coopersmith – get used to that name, as you hear it roughly two hundred times in this movie – the most abused loser in any horror movie. The bullies torment him endlessly. Teachers belittle him and he's caned by the principal. When he attempts to compliment a girl, he is humiliated more. The last straw is when the puppy he's adopted is killed. By the time his righteous demonic rage is enacted, you are entirely on Coopersmith's side. Someone who has suffered as much as him, at the hands of so many assholes, deserves some revenge. 

In fact, it's surprising that “Evilspeak” seemingly comes down on the pro-Satan side of the equation. Otherwise, the movie is straight example of your typical eighties Satanic Panic. Coopersmith is a nerdy kid hanging out in gothic basements, reading from arcane text and trying to summon the devil. Classical Christian fear mongering like this combines with a fear of new technology. Coopersmith uses his computer to summon the demonic spirits, images of evil faces, twirling pentagrams, and hellfire being rendered via the Apple II's primitive graphics. This is right around the time computers started to become common presences in homes and schools, making the anxieties “Evilspeak” speaks to very much of its time and place. 

Yet its memorably pathetic main character and invoking of then-relevant fears is not why people remember “Evilspeak.” No, the movie owes its infamy to its gory mayhem. For whatever reason, Lorenzo Esteban's branch of Satanism uses a lot of pig imagery. Coopersmith briefly grows a hog-like face as he becomes possessed. A horde of angry boars are loosed in the chapel at the end, chomping down on quite a few errant bullies. The movie's most notorious moments involves those same pigs munching on a naked woman in the shower. “Evilspeak's” unforgettable climax involves Clint Howard, suspended on visible wires, floating around and slicing people's heads off with swords. The movie ends in the church being consumed in a plume of hellfire, Freddy the puppy avenged. It's inventively gory, highly campy stuff, executed with frenzied style by director Eric Weston.

“Evilspeak” also has a crawling fetus in a jar, a spring-loaded rat, and Clint's devil-summoning teen saying mild swears like “Shucks!” Howard is certainly convincing as a tormented outcast with an off-beat view of the world. (Though not so much as a teenager, considering he was already balding by this point and wearing a non-convincing rug.) “Evilspeak's” gore is severe enough to have earned it a spot on the U.K.'s Video Nasties list, no doubt increasing its notoriety. Yet it's hard to imagine anyone being offended by a movie this goofy. Its unforgettably strange looking star and creative demonic havoc makes “Evilspeak” an enjoyable time for horror fans with a taste for blood-soaked revenge stories like this. [7/10]

The Music of Erich Zann (1980)

Considering the main body of his work is short stories, it's surprising there aren't more well-known shorts based on Lovecraft. Most of the famous adaptations are feature length. Yet a few notable examples have emerged. Such as John Strysik's 1980 adaptation of “The Music of Erich Zann.” Strysik's makes Lovecraft's unnamed protagonist Charles Dexter Ward but otherwise follows the story closely: A physics student in Paris rents a room in a secluded apartment. At night, he hears his upstairs neighbor – the titular Erich Zann – playing his viol. He asks the mute old man to play the haunting melodies from the night before but Erich refuses. The student is also compelled by the window, covered by a large curtain, in Zann's room. One fateful night, he discovers what purpose Zann's music serves and what is hidden behind that window. 

Strysik's film is about as scholarly and respectful an adaptation of Lovecraft's work as you could expect from a low budget production. The period costumes and sets are well assembled. The photography is nicely done. The interiors are largely lit by candlelight, which gives the film a certain old-fashioned, spooky atmosphere. This creates a wall of shadows all around the actors, further suggesting a feeling that something ominous is just off-screen. The performances are a bit stiff, which is almost a given when flesh-and-blood people have to speak Howard Philip's famously stilted dialogue. The best performer in the film is Robert Alexander in the title role, who only has to express horror and fear with his weathered face. The music, obviously a pretty important part of the story, is also effectively used. 

The element of this short film that tends to divide people is how Strysik chose to visualize the cosmic horror at the center of so many of Lovecraft's stories. Upon throwing open the curtain, Ward is confront with a kaleidoscopic effect of swirling colors and unknown images. Considering the obvious low budget the crew had to work with, I think the filmmakers did a pretty good job. The psychedelic blending of eyes, faces, and colors even match the old-fashioned approach to most of the story. (I question the insertion of a shadowy, nude woman dancing, unless that was a nod at Lovecraft's infamous fear of sexuality.) Though it's hard to imagine sights like that driving anyone to madness. The use of Lovecraft's writing in the narration is largely unnecessary and contributes to the slightly stodgy feel this short has. But it's a good effort and one I can. appreciate. By the way, Strysik would go on to collaborate with Stuart Gordon... But not on one of his Lovecraft movies. Instead, he wrote the script for “Stuck.” [7/10]