The perpetually underrated Olivia Hussey, who passed away in December of last year, of course got her big break as Juliet in Franco Zeffirelli's classic adaptation of Shakespeare's timeless romance. However, this is not the film that ended up predicting the direction of her career. Rather, 1974's “Black Christmas” made the quiet, controlled Hussey into a scream queen. This preceded her appearing in many other off-beat genre projects. After the 1978 version of “The Cat and the Canary” and Kinji Fukasaku's “Virus” – but before “Quest of the Delta Knights,” “Ice Cream Man,” and playing Norman Bates' mom in “Psycho IV” – there was “Turkey Shoot.” Shot during a time when tax write-offs made Australia a hot spot for low budget productions, it was the fifth narrative film from the prolific director Brian Trenchard-Smith. Though English born, Trenchard-Smith would make a number of memorable films during this 10BA era. (So named for the division of Australia's Income Tax Assessment Act that made these productions possible.) That would make Trendard-Smith one of the names most associated with what would eventually be called Ozploitation. For Hussey, films like this were a far cry from the Bard but you take work where you can get it, I suppose.
Once again, global instability has led to an authoritarian regime seizing control of all of Earth's most powerful nations. Political undesirables, referred to as "deviants," are placed in prison camps and subjected to inhuman tortures. An especially brutal example is located near the Queensland coast of Australia. At Camp 47, Camp Master Thatcher invite the rich and powerful members of society to hunt the prisoners in what he calls a "turkey shoot." New arrivals at the camp include Paul Anders, a political activist arrested for broadcasting anti-government messages. He is joined by Chris Walters, an innocent young woman who merely stood up officers who were beating a man. Together with former sex worker Rita, the escape artist Griffin, and the visibly insane Dodge, the two are set loose in the near-by jungle. Over the next twelve hours, they will be hunted like animals by senators and millionaires armed with rifles, explosive crossbows, all-terrain vehicles, and at least one werewolf. Paul doesn't simply plan on surviving the turkey shoot. He plans on escaping and turning the tides against the fascist tormentors in power.
This is the kind of motion picture “Turkey Shoot” is, a thoroughly outrageous experience much more interested in being memorable than being sensible. To fulfill that goal, Trenchard-Smith and his team fill the film with over-the-top violence. A machete to the head nearly splits a skull in half. A man is bisected at the waist with a shovel trowel. Bodies explode in a theatrical downpour of blood and brain matter. This is a film that decides its rape-y she-bitch villainess carrying a crossbow is insufficiently ridiculous. Instead, her arrows explode upon impact, to add an extra layer of pyrotechnics. To complete this tone of comic book-like silliness and excess, goofy looking vehicles and set designs are prominent throughout. Such campy looking costumes and props removes any doubt that “Turkey Shoot” knows exactly how ridiculous it is. The film is absolutely in on the joke.
Despite clearly being derivative of numerous films and stories that come before, and collapsing somewhat in its final reel, “Turkey Shoot” is too enjoyably loopy to be dismissed. The villains are thoroughly absurd. The violence is spectacularly over-the-top. The movie is insanely fast-paced, never having a single boring moment in it. Odd ball or extravagant inclusions tickle the synaptic nerves in my cult movie loving brain. Olivia Hussey reportedly had a dreadful time making the movie, terrified of the Australian wild life. The director was feuding with the producer – who was David Hemmings for some reason – all throughout. Out of such dire situations emerged a wildly entertaining B-movie geek show. “Turkey Shoot” suggests that any worn-out genre set-up can be improved by randomly including a monster-man and some dune buggy related violence. [7/10]
The found footage film has existed since at least 1961 but there's a reason the format didn't truly catch on until “The Blair Witch Project” in 1999. That movie was made by a bunch of nobodies, screwing around in the woods of Maryland, and it became a paradigm shifting blockbuster. "Paranormal Activity" had a similar impact. Both proved you didn't need elaborate special effects, recognizable stars, or a massive crew to make a scary flick that was also extremely profitable. That set-up must be especially appealing to filmmakers in countries without much of an established cinematic industry of their own. IMDb lists only 88 titles with the nation of Barbados as their primary hub of production. Locally made motion pictures have little international reach and the island does not seem to be as popular a filming location for Hollywood studios as other places in the Caribbean. Barbadian visual effects artist Stockton Miller had some viral success with a found footage style reel of a werewolf he made. Miller would team up with the Texas-based Thomas Burke – who seems to specialize in found footage and mockumentaries – around 2018 to start work on what would be the island nation's first feature length science fiction movie. Initially entitled "The Land We Call Home," it got picked up by Dread Central's distributing arm in 2022 and was slapped with the more direct title, "The Barbados Project." Well, let's take my Horror Around the World tour to a warmer climate tonight and see how we like this one.
In 2019, shaky cell phone footage of unidentified creatures lurking in the distance or emerging from the sea went viral around the country of Barbados. The videos prompted debate and skepticism but clearly something was going on. Journalist Reesa Price and her cameraman Alex decided to get to the bottom of these mysterious sightings. "The Barbados Project" compiles the declassified footage concerning their investigation and the surrounding events. The news crew uncovered a connection between the creatures and a local military contractor named Building Six. They interviewed a whistleblower claiming that the company had been doing weird experiments since the eighties. After encountering one of the beasts, Reesa begins to exhibit bizarre physical symptoms. The further into the conspiracy the crew went, the stranger it got.
The effectiveness of the found footage style is highly dependent on if the film can create a sense of realism. The intended illusion, after all, is that you are watching “real” recordings that the viewer has accidentally stumbled upon. “The Barbados Project,” unfortunately, does not pass this particular sniff test. This is largely because of the special effects. Within the opening minutes, we are presented with footage of some sort of giant monster wading through the ocean, off in the distance. It looks far too much like a GIF being dragged across the screen. Near the end, we see similarly shoddy CGI of dragon hovering in the air and breathing fire. It's simply not believable and, worst yet, the movie makes little attempt to disguise what we are looking at. When the primary monsters in the film appear – they look a lot like the Skullcrawlers from “Kong: Skull Island – they are right in the center of the screen, brightly lit. This not only removes any doubt in the viewer's mind that they are looking at a mediocre, computer generated creation. It also spoils the premise of the movie. How are we supposed to believe that there's any debate or skepticism about the existence of these creatures when they are clearly on-camera like this? That takes the idea from cryptozoology to regular zoology, ya know.
Aside from the deeply unconvincing visual effects, “The Barbados Project” fumbles immersion in other ways. In general, the acting is poor. As our journalist hero, Cerah Belgrave's line-reading is consistently stilted. What are supposed to be off-the-cuff conversations feel anything but, coming across more as awkward attempts to memorize dialogue the actors were given only a few moments to memorize. The actor playing the informant is easily the worst in the film, given reams of exposition to read and monotonously stumbling through it all, visibly glancing off-screen several times at presumed cue cards. In general, the writing in “The Barbados Project” is less than polished. It seems to me the filmmaker had a number of ideas but couldn't find a way to assemble them into a compelling whole. Instead, the film alternate between unexplained events – such as the biological effects encountering the monsters have on people – and flatly explaining story points that involve a lot of fuzzy sci-fi concepts. You get the impression of a script that was made up as filming went along.
Despite being advertised as the first feature length monster movie made in the titular country, “The Barbados Project” is barely over an hour long. Meaning it meets the Academy standard for a “feature film” by exactly one minute. Furthering my belief that the story was largely improvised, the plot line involving Reesa Price wraps up with about twenty minutes to go. The film then leaps into the future, to depict a TikTok video of a totally unrelated character resolving the narrative in his back yard. It's a moment that seems to be taking shot at internet content creators concerned only with upping their following count, totally at odds with a premise treated seriously up to that point. The movie leaps around formats like that a lot. Prior recordings, declassified government footage, and lots of flashy computerized menus appear around the primary footage telling the story. That goes hand-in-hand with an abuse of on-screen pixelization and scrambled footage. It's an interesting idea, a movie composed of snippets of different mediums like this. When combined with a haphazard script and shifty acting, it only furthers the impression that the filmmakers couldn't focus on one idea for very long.
One is tempted to take it easy on “The Barbados Project.” Clearly much of the team were amateurs getting their big break. One assumes that resources were limited, given the lack of support for film productions in their country. Considering Stockton Miller's background in special effects, I imagine he did most of the digital work himself. Getting a movie finished and released is hard work and many factor determine the outcome. There were clear ambitions here but whatever resources were available fell far short of them. The truth of the matter is that there's simply nothing much effective about what we see here. The result is less thrills and chills and more secondhand harassment for everyone involved. The feeling is more akin to watching a randomly assembled YouTube video than a professional production, thoroughly ineffective and underwhelming in every way. Best of luck to everybody who worked on this on all their future endeavors though. I know it's hard out there. [3/10]
In 2019, shaky cell phone footage of unidentified creatures lurking in the distance or emerging from the sea went viral around the country of Barbados. The videos prompted debate and skepticism but clearly something was going on. Journalist Reesa Price and her cameraman Alex decided to get to the bottom of these mysterious sightings. "The Barbados Project" compiles the declassified footage concerning their investigation and the surrounding events. The news crew uncovered a connection between the creatures and a local military contractor named Building Six. They interviewed a whistleblower claiming that the company had been doing weird experiments since the eighties. After encountering one of the beasts, Reesa begins to exhibit bizarre physical symptoms. The further into the conspiracy the crew went, the stranger it got.
Aside from the deeply unconvincing visual effects, “The Barbados Project” fumbles immersion in other ways. In general, the acting is poor. As our journalist hero, Cerah Belgrave's line-reading is consistently stilted. What are supposed to be off-the-cuff conversations feel anything but, coming across more as awkward attempts to memorize dialogue the actors were given only a few moments to memorize. The actor playing the informant is easily the worst in the film, given reams of exposition to read and monotonously stumbling through it all, visibly glancing off-screen several times at presumed cue cards. In general, the writing in “The Barbados Project” is less than polished. It seems to me the filmmaker had a number of ideas but couldn't find a way to assemble them into a compelling whole. Instead, the film alternate between unexplained events – such as the biological effects encountering the monsters have on people – and flatly explaining story points that involve a lot of fuzzy sci-fi concepts. You get the impression of a script that was made up as filming went along.
One is tempted to take it easy on “The Barbados Project.” Clearly much of the team were amateurs getting their big break. One assumes that resources were limited, given the lack of support for film productions in their country. Considering Stockton Miller's background in special effects, I imagine he did most of the digital work himself. Getting a movie finished and released is hard work and many factor determine the outcome. There were clear ambitions here but whatever resources were available fell far short of them. The truth of the matter is that there's simply nothing much effective about what we see here. The result is less thrills and chills and more secondhand harassment for everyone involved. The feeling is more akin to watching a randomly assembled YouTube video than a professional production, thoroughly ineffective and underwhelming in every way. Best of luck to everybody who worked on this on all their future endeavors though. I know it's hard out there. [3/10]
Ray Bradbury was rather stuck on the idea of the government banning and burning books. Aside from “Fahrenheit 451,” he also explored the idea in “The Exiles” – in which the ghosts of banned authors manifest on Mars – and “Usher II.” The latter was adapted into a season four episode of “The Ray Bradbury Theater.” In the future, a government agency known as the Moral Climates has banned all tales of the fantastic and macabre. An eccentric millionaire named William Stendahl has spent most of his fortune constructing a replica of the House of Usher, as described in Edgar Allan Poe's story. He has populated it with life-like androids, playing the roles of witches and monsters. Moral Climates' Mr. Garrett sends a robot doppelganger of himself to investigate, which Stendahl replaces with his own. This copy invites the head council of the Moral Climates to a costume party at the new House of Usher. There, they watch as apparent robotic copies of themselves fall victim to grisly scenarios from Poe's stories. That's when Stendahl invites the real Garrett, who has already ordered the destruction of this new House of Usher, down into the wine cellar to taste some fine amontilado sherry...
At various points in his dotage, Mr. Bradbury would bitch about political correctness or claim “Fahrenheit 451” was actually about how bad television is. There are signs of this in “Usher II.” Stendahl claims that the roots of the current oppressive government were civil rights organizations demanding the censoring of “offensive” content. Great futurist though he was, Bradbury couldn't imagine the current state of affairs. Where knowledge is not control by information being limited but rather by the public being inundated with it, a deluge of non-stop distraction and insincere lies burying actual truths. That timelines would pile horrors upon horrors, in-between mindless advertisements, to deaden our drive to pursue what was right. That corporations would further the destruction of true wisdom not by burning books but by burning forests, to replace actual imagination with dead-eyed simulacra vomited out by mindless machines. I know we've all had fun dunking on pearl-clutching fuddy-duddies from time to time but it gulls me a bit that someone as clearly intelligent and observant of the human condition as Ray Bradbury would blame “political correction” for the denigration of actual knowledge than the businessmen and billionaires.
But there I go being a grousing old man myself. What about “Usher II?” Patrick Macnee, John Steed himself, plays Mr. Stendahl as someone who delights in the theatrical. He invents this elaborate scheme mostly to take revenge on the people he's despised. Because why merely murder someone when you can build an actual House of Usher and have them shoved up the chimney by a mechanical orangutan? (Of which the aftermath we only see here, presumably for budgetary reasons.) As his rival, Stuart Devenie – later seen as the kung-fu fighting priest who shouts “I kick ass for the lord!” in Peter Jackson's “Dead Alive” – is equally despicable. A dead-faced fascist, who takes a cold sadistic pleasure in punishing “immoral” behavior, is probably the kind of people who deserve to get walled up alive. Watching these two bounce off each other, especially once Stendahl goes about recreating “A Cask of Amontilado,” is quite entertaining on its own. The final accusation, that cultural critics blame society's woes on media they don't bother actually reading or watching themselves, sure sounds pointed coming out of Macnee's lips.
“Usher II” was directed by Lee Tamahori, a few years before “Once Were Warriors” and a decent run of thrillers later in the decade. (And long before he pivoted to very loud dreck like “Die Another Day” or “xXx: State of the Union,” the kind of movies ol' Ray probably would've hated.) Alongside cinematographer Warrick Attewell and production designer Rick Kofoed, they make sure the titular haunted abode looks amazing. Lots of gothic arches, shadowy corridors, spider web strewn staircases, and moonlight peering through wide windows. I'm not sure the episode is making nearly as much of a point about the attitudes that make censorship possible as it thinks. It seems much more about Bradbury enacting some suitably ironic revenge on anyone who dares to burn books. All the business with androids and robotic copies seems ultimately unnecessary, in service of a twist ending that is very easy to see coming. I do, however, totally understand the impulse to live out the rest of your life in a dusty old haunted castle. That may, in fact, be my greatest ambition in life. The house of Usher has fallen. Long live the House of Usher. [7/10]
At various points in his dotage, Mr. Bradbury would bitch about political correctness or claim “Fahrenheit 451” was actually about how bad television is. There are signs of this in “Usher II.” Stendahl claims that the roots of the current oppressive government were civil rights organizations demanding the censoring of “offensive” content. Great futurist though he was, Bradbury couldn't imagine the current state of affairs. Where knowledge is not control by information being limited but rather by the public being inundated with it, a deluge of non-stop distraction and insincere lies burying actual truths. That timelines would pile horrors upon horrors, in-between mindless advertisements, to deaden our drive to pursue what was right. That corporations would further the destruction of true wisdom not by burning books but by burning forests, to replace actual imagination with dead-eyed simulacra vomited out by mindless machines. I know we've all had fun dunking on pearl-clutching fuddy-duddies from time to time but it gulls me a bit that someone as clearly intelligent and observant of the human condition as Ray Bradbury would blame “political correction” for the denigration of actual knowledge than the businessmen and billionaires.
“Usher II” was directed by Lee Tamahori, a few years before “Once Were Warriors” and a decent run of thrillers later in the decade. (And long before he pivoted to very loud dreck like “Die Another Day” or “xXx: State of the Union,” the kind of movies ol' Ray probably would've hated.) Alongside cinematographer Warrick Attewell and production designer Rick Kofoed, they make sure the titular haunted abode looks amazing. Lots of gothic arches, shadowy corridors, spider web strewn staircases, and moonlight peering through wide windows. I'm not sure the episode is making nearly as much of a point about the attitudes that make censorship possible as it thinks. It seems much more about Bradbury enacting some suitably ironic revenge on anyone who dares to burn books. All the business with androids and robotic copies seems ultimately unnecessary, in service of a twist ending that is very easy to see coming. I do, however, totally understand the impulse to live out the rest of your life in a dusty old haunted castle. That may, in fact, be my greatest ambition in life. The house of Usher has fallen. Long live the House of Usher. [7/10]
Once more, “The Addams Family” writers' room uses Wednesday and Pugsley as springboards for a story without actually involving them in the plot much. The Addams children report to their parents that a recent incident involving blasting caps has gotten them in trouble at school. Disappointed that an educational facility would stifle their kids' creativity, Gomez and Morticia immediately set out finding a private academy for their offspring. Sam Hillard – last seen running for office after being a truant officer – is now the head administrator at Mockridge Hall. At first, Hillard wants nothing to do with the Addams but Gomez' generous offer has him changing his mind. Pugsley and Wednesday immediately get expelled for bringing their pet octopus and Gila monster to class. Morticia and Gomez' solution to that is to simply buy the school outright, ousting Hillard and bringing their typically eccentric approach to the curriculum. This outrages the parents of the regular students, who demand Hillard's return
“Addams Cum Laude” – a title that sounds less unfortunate than it looks – does exactly what we expect from this show by now. Which is to say it's an episode devoted to the Addams' creepy and kooky antics being more than the average folks can handle. This is most evident in the sequence when Hillard visits 0001 Cemetery Drive and is presented with Addams' plans for the school syllabus. However, I do think the script here cooks up a few good variation on the familiar gags. Uncle Fester supplements his usual light bulb trick with a new ability involving a record player, which is amusingly stretched out. When Gomez hears Morticia speaking French, he accidentally grabs the arm of another woman instead, which is a good bit. In general, there are some inspired silliness here. Gomez practices his polo skills on a stationary bike, which then whinnies like a horse. Lurch pops into the room before Morticia rings the gong, startling her slightly. That made me chuckle, if only because Carolyn Jones' facial expression is priceless. Also, I am more convinced than ever that Thing can teleport, as he appears in Mr. Hilard's desk to comfort him unexpectedly.
A fairly standard installment of “The Addams Family” but it does present one of the sharper bits of social commentary in this old series. Hillard is reluctant to get involved with the Addams at first, being well aware of their eccentricities by now. The minute Gomez starts counting a huge stack of money, however, the principal changes his mind. Yes, the all mighty dollar sees a member of polite society reconsidering his previously firmly held beliefs. You can read a little deeper into the set-up here too. The Addams devote their lives to pursuing their passions, which makes them happy. The standard American school system tries to force kids down a specific path. When Gomez and Morticia attempt to transform a standard academy in their own vision, the parents who pay the tuitions demand an immediate return to conformity. Despite the Addams' new system actually being far more profitable for the school, as the ending reveals. Oh, if only we were all as rich as the Addams and could spend our days worshiping our hot goth wives and blowing up toy trains... [7/10]
“Addams Cum Laude” – a title that sounds less unfortunate than it looks – does exactly what we expect from this show by now. Which is to say it's an episode devoted to the Addams' creepy and kooky antics being more than the average folks can handle. This is most evident in the sequence when Hillard visits 0001 Cemetery Drive and is presented with Addams' plans for the school syllabus. However, I do think the script here cooks up a few good variation on the familiar gags. Uncle Fester supplements his usual light bulb trick with a new ability involving a record player, which is amusingly stretched out. When Gomez hears Morticia speaking French, he accidentally grabs the arm of another woman instead, which is a good bit. In general, there are some inspired silliness here. Gomez practices his polo skills on a stationary bike, which then whinnies like a horse. Lurch pops into the room before Morticia rings the gong, startling her slightly. That made me chuckle, if only because Carolyn Jones' facial expression is priceless. Also, I am more convinced than ever that Thing can teleport, as he appears in Mr. Hilard's desk to comfort him unexpectedly.
No comments:
Post a Comment