Horror Show, The (1989) d. James Isaac (USA)

When word rolled around that Shout! Factory would be releasing a Lance Henriksen/Brion James horror flick from the late 80s, I was honestly perplexed at my ignorance of this title’s existence. I mean, I’ve seen a few movies in my time and of those that I haven’t seen, there’s usually a blip on the radar either through having seen the box art while combing the local video store’s aisles (pardon me while I weep for this younger generation that will never experience such pleasures) or reading back issues of various genre mags. After a bit of research, I realized I actually had heard of it, but under its international distribution title: House III: The Horror Show. Sean S. Cunningham, who produced the first two House films, explains on the audio commentary track that the foreign markets were more interested in the branding than the film. So, even though it bore no relation to its predecessors and doesn’t actually deal with a haunted house (unless you count Henriksen’s chatty furnace), The Horror Show became the third installment in the franchise for overseas distribution (leading to some confusion for U.S. audiences when Cunningham decided to make House IV in 1992).

Following the capture of notorious cleaver-wielding mass murderer Max Jenke (James), responsible for over 100 grisly slayings, Detective Lucas McCarthy (Henriksen) is plagued by nightmares of his former quarry. He hopes that attending Jenke’s execution by electric chair will ease his mind, but the killer does not go gently into that good night, rising from his seat (in flames) and cursing the cop before crumpling to the floor. In the days that follow, McCarthy experiences vivid hallucinations of Jenke appearing all around him, whispering, giggling, taunting…at least, he thinks they’re visions. But when his daughter’s boyfriend turns up dead in the basement, the question arises whether the psycho is back from the grave or whether our boy with the badge has gone round the bend.

Even before its (very) limited theatrical release, the film had problems, starting with original director David Blyth’s being fired a week into shooting and replaced by James Isaac (Jason X, Pig Hunt). Then there was discontent over original writer Allyn Warner’s script, reworked by Leslie Bohem (Dante’s Peak, Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child) and leading Warner to demand his name be removed. Of course, once the scribe re-read the WGA rulebook and realized that he could get a higher fee if he received credit on the film (even under a pseudonym), he went back to the producers and insisted on billing, but under the oft-used moniker of directorial shame, Alan Smithee.

Needless to say, this didn’t instill moviegoers with much faith, but the bright spot on the horizon was that upcoming goremeisters KNB EFX (still billed as Kurtzman-Nicotero-Berger at the time) were on the job and preparing to unleash some nasty splatter, as seen in several Fangoria promotional stills. Sadly, this was the era of the MPAA’s war against onscreen violence and bloodshed – when the scissors had stopped slashing, there remained a few rubbery showcases, but the flick overall was figuratively gutted and bled dry.

As a result, it’s hard to say where things first went wrong, but finger-pointing aside, the script’s conceit of Jenke returning from the grave due to experiments with excessive amounts of electricity is pretty slippery at best. (Oddly enough, Wes Craven’s execrable Shocker came out the same year with a similar plot device, so maybe there was something in the Tinseltown water.) As a mysterious brainiac attempting to prove some theory, Thom Bray (TV’s Riptide, Prince of Darkness) is given the thankless job of trotting out this claptrap, but it’s clear even he doesn’t believe it. It’s too bad, because had Warner and/or Bohem simply gone with a time-honored “ghost from beyond” or voodoo curse trope, viewers probably would have had an easier time swallowing the hooey.

Even so, we’re never really sure whether what is being shown is in McCarthy’s mind or genuine supernatural happenings, since both types of scares appear in equal measure. Further complicating matters is the misleading title; there’s no actual show of any kind going on (unless you count the short vignette where McCarthy hallucinates Jenke appearing as a stand-up comedian on TV) and no other Clockwork Orange references, so fans were understandably confused.

The upside is that the always-intense Henriksen is in top form here, showing off a welcome range of emotions (and his well-sculpted frame), equally authentic as laughing family man, fearful paranoiac, or vengeful hero. The late, great B-movie staple James (best known as Leon from Blade Runner, though I’ll always remember him as Southern Comfort’s one-armed Cajun) gives a robust if limited performance as the murderous Jenke, screaming, sneering, bellowing, or sniggering in taunting childlike fashion from start to finish.

Rita Taggart does well as Henriksen’s devoted wife, while their bouncy, boy-crazy daughter is played by Dedee Pfeiffer (Vamp, TV’s Cybil and younger sister of Michelle) and music-obsessed son Aron Eisenberg (you can tell because he’s always wearing a Walkman or air-guitaring in his room) pulls scams on major retailers. Day of the Dead's Terry Alexander also has a brief appearance as Henriksen's ill-fated partner.

Behind the scenes, you’ve got Kane Hodder on hand as coordinator for the film’s stunts (many are quite impressive), Harry Manfredini composing the score, and all-star cinematographer Mac Ahlberg (everything from Hell Night to Re-Animator to Innocent Blood) working the lights and lenses. As mentioned, KNB’s best gags probably ended up on the cutting room floor, but they manage to sneak in some snazzy mo-mos.

In retrospect, one gets the feeling that this could have been a better film had a single vision been adhered to instead of serving so many different masters; Isaac pulls off some genuinely suspenseful scenes and the cast creates a nice sense of ensemble, but there are too many gaping logic holes and lazy set-pieces to succeed overall.

Shout! Factory’s new DVD/BR combo release brings another welcome host of supplemental features. (Their menu items, on the other hand, are reduced to “Play Movie” and “Special Features,” i.e. no chapter selections, although really, does anyone use those anymore? Did they ever?) Red Shirt Pictures’ Michael Felsher does an excellent job interviewing Cunningham on the commentary track, highlighting many different facets of the producer/director’s career, including Friday the 13th (original and remake), Deep Star Six and the recent Last House on the Left remake as well as his non-genre fare like Spring Break and Here Come the Tigers. Cunningham is jovial and frank about what works (and what doesn’t) onscreen, along with the trappings that accompany being identified as a genre director. He’s a fascinating subject, openly admiring groundbreaking filmmakers like Guillermo del Toro and James Cameron, saying, “I couldn’t do what they do, because my brain doesn’t think that way.” He refers to himself as a smaller story teller, character-based dramas being more in tune with his strengths.

Along with a theatrical trailer, the other RSP extras include “The ‘Show’ Must Go On,” an interview with Hodder who speaks fondly of Ahlberg and Isaac, giving credit to the former for getting him the Horror Show gig and the latter for his “best Jason role” in Jason X. “House Mother” sits down with TV/fim veteran Taggart to discuss working with Henriksen and James, and her surprise in discovering this forgotten horror flick’s passionate fan base that had developed over the years. She also laughingly recalls how Pfeiffer bemoaned her requisite shower scene, saying “no boobs, no butt, no bush.” (Isaac must have cajoled her into the overhead shot by saying we wouldn’t see much.)

The Horror Show is available now from Shout! Factory and can be ordered HERE.

http://www.shoutfactory.com/product/horror-show


--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine

Knightriders (1981) d. George A. Romero (USA)

As the recognized godfather of the modern horror era, it’s a bit depressing to realize just how little joy George A. Romero derived from the majority of his genre output. Pigeonholed early on into the fright flick biz by an inflexible Hollywood, the great independent from Pittsburgh kept trying to wiggle his way out but found few doors open to him. However, following the worldwide success of Dawn of the Dead, he struck a three-picture deal with executive producer and distributor Salah A. Hassanein, securing creative autonomy under the sole contingency that one of the three would be a sequel to Dawn (the resulting film being 1985’s Day of the Dead). The other two were his 1982 EC Comics tribute with Stephen King, Creepshow, and a long, rambling, idealistic, at times naïve but extremely personal and heartfelt tale of motorcycle-riding knights attempting to live by an old-world code in a modern get-rich-quick world. One became a huge financial smash and beloved kitschy treat, while the other was virtually unseen by the movie-going public. The neglected foundling in this case, the one which Romero claims as his second personal favorite (behind 1976’s Martin), is 1981’s Knightriders.

King William (Ed Harris, in his first lead role), or “Billy” to his court, lives an austere lifestyle, attempting to strip away the materialism that he feels has corrupted modern society. He and his mostly merry band travel from town to town, putting on their specific brand of Renaissance Fair with cycles standing in for horses in various jousting tournaments. There are the King’s men, led by the noble Sir Alan (Gary Lahti) and Dame Rocky (Cynthia Adler), opposing the Black Knights, led by the robust and rebellious Morgan (Tom Savini). The two sides batter away at each other for the crowd’s amusement (and ticket receipts), ending each pageant with celebration and camaraderie.

But as the viewer comes on the scene, the seeds of discontent are already being sown. Billy has become so stringent in his etiquette that his rises each dawn to flagellate himself after a night of lovemaking with his increasingly frustrated Queen Linet (Amy Ingersoll). Morgan’s attempts to seize the crown through the staged battles become more brutal, while big-city promoters have become aware of the novelty act and hope to package it to the masses. While the familial atmosphere is still intact, there are factions and rivalries and tensions growing every day – it’s only a matter of time before something has to give. When Billy refuses to play ball with a couple of crooked cops, it sets in motion a series of events that compromise his entire “kingdom,” the fantasy he has worked so hard to maintain.

Romero’s seventh narrative feature takes a very long time to say what it wants to say and do what it wants to do – 146 minutes, to be exact. Its languorous tempo and meandering, character-centric plot seems more in keeping with the New Hollywood of the early 1970s, and wildly out of step with a public quickly warming to the whiz-bang thrills of Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Empire Strikes Back. But even if a leaner result could have been derived, Romero’s zombie-loving fan base must have been utterly bewildered by this unconventional yarn of morality and honor atop two-wheeling, gasoline-snorting hogs. (That said, the jousting scenes are undeniably thrilling, thanks to the bone-breaking stunts performed by Gary Davis and his Stunts Unlimited team; it’s somewhat surprising that more hasn’t been made of these by action movie aficionados.) This is not to say that Knightriders is an unsuccessful film or even an unsatisfying one – it’s simply an unconventional and slow-paced bit of cinema with more on its mind than cheap thrills.

Unfortunately, this caveat has made it a less appealing item for those approaching the writer/director’s canon. Longtime fans of Romero should be aware by this point of his predilections for addressing social issues and headier themes within the trappings of the genre, but this is not a horror film (by any stretch) and only marginally an exploitation flick. Therefore, audiences in its day arrived unprepared for what to expect from the film, and continue to be stymied today. The buzz for Knightriders barely charts on the radar – it’s become as marginalized as his post-Night of the Living Dead efforts, There’s Always Vanilla and Season of the Witch.

And yet, for the patient and the open-minded, there are many rewards to be revealed, not the least of which being the terrific ensemble performances – every character is vividly detailed and given a special moment by which to be remembered. Savini has never, ever been better, and the intense Harris already possesses the fiery core that would propel him to Hollywood greatness and Oscar nominations. Many key players, such as Lahti, Ingersoll or Warner Shook (as a sexually confused M.C.), never flourished beyond this movie in spite of their superb characterizations, although sharp-eyed Romero devotees will pick out dozens of familiar faces, from John Amplas’ mime to Ken Foree’s blacksmith to Scott Reiniger’s knight to Anthony Dileo’s vendor to Joe Pilato’s disgruntled employee to Christine Forrest’s (aka the former Mrs. Romero) lovelorn grease monkey. Not to mention our memorable “Hoagie Man,” played by none other than Stephen King.

Shout! Factory has done a terrific job of resurrecting this underrated gem for reappraisal by a new generation, with a sharp, high-def picture that captures every dust-slinging maneuver with crystal-clear perfection. The supplements are expectedly bountiful, even if the audio commentary track is recycled from the 2001 Anchor Bay DVD, but I suppose the chances of getting Romero, Savini, Amplas, Chris Stavrakis (stuntman and Savini right-hand-man Taso’s brother) and Forrest all in the same room again these days might be a tall order. Still, there’s a lot of joy in listening to the assembled crew excitedly shout out the names of the many incidental players, as well as invoking production assistants Holly Hunter (yes, that Holly Hunter) and Shari Belafonte. Savini describes the making of the film as “the greatest summer imaginable,” citing the convivial atmosphere that pervaded the nearly three-month shoot. Romero gives innumerable props to his creative team, in particular Donald Rubinstein’s lively and evocative score, and the fearless stuntmen laying it all on the line. “It was the first time I ever realized that people could be put in harm’s way simply to serve one person’s creative whims,” he muses.

For the featurettes, Red Shirt Pictures ups their already impressive ante by landing the film’s A-list star for a warm and thoughtful discussion. In “Conscience of the King,” Harris reveals what the role meant to him and his career – even though he admits that it wasn’t widely seen, the boost to the actor’s confidence, he says, was immeasurable. Romero appears for a new interview entitled “Code of Honor,” still effusive and still frustrated at the film’s low profile. He also reveals that he had a brief meeting with Morgan Freeman about playing Merlin (the role eventually went to be-bop performance artist Brother Blue), but that the actor perceived the part as racist and demeaning – odd when you consider the director’s track record of tolerance and diversity.

“Memories of Morgan” sits down with Savini, who clearly still has regrets that the film didn’t serve as a greater launching pad for his career as an actor – playing a role not far removed from the man himself, it is truly an extremely engaging and joyous incarnation. (One can only wonder how his and Romero’s worlds might have been changed had the picture been a success.) The extras are topped off by Savini’s behind-the-scenes footage of the various motorcycle stunts, some of which look extremely painful, and the theatrical trailer and a couple TV spots.

I do feel obliged to point out one notable subtitling mistake, in the hopes that it will be remedied for future deaf and/or hard-of-hearing generations to come. It comes during Harold Wayne Jones’ gratuitous Marlon Brando impression, about 90 minutes in, re-enacting On the Waterfront’s famous backseat monologue to Rod Steiger, only in this case Jones bemoans the fact that he is forced to eat Kentucky Fried Chicken. “Not my night? You shoulda looked out for me, Charlie, so I wouldn’t be stuck with a lousy piece of meat. I coulda had bass!” Unfortunately, the cheap (but still funny) joke is subtitled as “I coulda had baths!” Um, what???

Knightriders is available Nov. 26 from Shout! Factory and is available for pre-order HERE.

http://www.shoutfactory.com/product/knightriders


--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine

Eve of Destruction (1991) d. Duncan Gibbons (USA)

During an advanced testing session in public, a female android prototype (Eve VIII – looks a bit like “evil,” doesn’t it?) and its keeper find themselves caught in the crossfire during a bank robbery; the resulting mayhem leaves the human dead and the humanoid machine malfunctioning and locked in “battlefield” mode, its highest state of alert, ready to use deadly force at the slightest provocation. Oh, and did I mention she’s also packing a thermonuclear charge?

This is the situation that military marksman and manhunter Col. Jim McQuade (Gregory Hines) is called in to deal with alongside inventor Dr. Eve Simmons (Renée Soutendijk), with whose memories and visage the snappily dressed killer robot (dig that red leather coat/black skirt ensemble) has been equipped. The two pursue their quarry literally from coast to coast, beginning in San Francisco and concluding in the NYC subway systems, but the journey is one cobbled together from a multitude of late '80s action clichés and sub-par dialogue scenes courtesy of director Duncan Gibbons and co-screenwriter Yale Udoff. (Never heard of them, you say? Viewing their lackluster efforts here, there’s probably a reason for that.)

This latest title to emerge from Shout! Factory is a curious one to receive the Blu-ray treatment, an anomaly within their catalogue of underrated favorites. It lacks the usual cult appeal (no major genre players or even someone like Dolph Lundgren to bring in the loyals), and it’s little surprise that the movie failed to find an audience upon its initial 1991 release, perceived – correctly – as a second-tier cyborg-on-the-loose Terminator knock-off. (Ironically, that film’s turnstile-shattering sequel, T2: Judgment Day, would emerge a mere six months later, armed with infinitely more substantial star power and technical innovation.)

Gibbons is no wizard in staging action scenes or conjuring crackling dialogue to spur things along between set-pieces. Hines, while a more-than-capable actor, isn’t the kind of mainstream star that general audiences are going to be seeking out, nor does he hold any particular genre cred (despite his early turn as a coroner in 1981’s Wolfen). His slight build, bulging eyes, pouting lower lip, and sensitive demeanor make him an unlikely badass action hero, and Dutch actress Renée Soutendijk (Spetters, The Fourth Man) completely fails to impress, her dual roles as monster and maker both limited to occasionally widening her eyes, cocking her head, and staring intently into space.

Consummate character actor Kurt Fuller (Ghostbusters 2) is on hand, sleazing up the joint like a pro as a corrupt corporate stooge, but he’s given little to do except snark out the occasional one-liner. Veteran cinematographer Alan Hume’s (Legend of Hell House, Return of the Jedi, several James Bond films) usual magic is absent, matching the rest of the creative team’s low bar of “capable but unremarkable.” Hell, they even managed to secure Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Twilight Zone: The Movie) for a day’s work and then fail to do anything interesting with him!

There are a few occasional bright spots, such as watching Eve VIII mow down random cops or engage in a wacky bit of road rage (the fender-bending latter turning her into a literal ticking time bomb), but there’s not enough big-bang-boom or zip-zap-zoom to sustain interest. In fact, it’s the film’s quietest scene, when Eve heads for NYC to find Dr. Simmon’s son, now in the custody of her ex-husband Peter (John M. Jackson, looking for all the world like Kevin Spacey), that proves to be its most effective.

With their ultra-bare-bones presentation, including a title menu that consists merely of the “Play Movie” function and a trailer, Shout! Factory doesn’t exhibit much enthusiasm for their recently acquired orphan either. There are no chapter stops, no extras, and nothing to earn this long absent (and barely missed) programmer any additional cred. I’m not sure who was clamoring for it, because its release comes off as more of a “Huh?” than a “Hooray!” Still, for you Hines and Soutendijk completists out there, your prayers have been answered. For all others, you'll probably more gain more satisfaction listening to Barry McGuire's classic anti-war rock anthem. It'll stay with you longer, trust me.

Eve of Destruction is available now from Shout! Factory and can be ordered HERE.

http://www.shoutfactory.com/node/218424

--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine 

Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) d. John Carpenter (USA)

Two elements hang heavy over any critical viewing of Carpenter’s second feature (and his first to be executed over a normal shooting schedule – his debut, Dark Star, was a college film shot in fits and starts that was later picked up for distribution, resulting in additional reshoots): 1) it is a conscious reworking of Howard Hawks’ 1959 classic western Rio Bravo with John Wayne, Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson, and 2) the onscreen shooting of a young girl (played by Disney fave Kim Richards) earned Assault on Precinct 13 instant notoriety. The latter item infuriated the MPAA and more sensitive reviewers, but being that this was an unabashed low-budget exploitation piece, it became the talking point that proved, “Any publicity is good publicity.” Following its initial cool reception in the U.S., the film became a critical and commercial success in Britain, affording the young writer/director (and composer and editor) the traction to mount what would become one of the most successful independent films in history, Halloween.

But Assault is more than just a stepping stone to future success – despite its occasionally dodgy logic, Carpenter’s keen eye for character and narrative ebb and flow is already in evidence, and while he notes his own “young writer’s tendency toward melodrama” on Shout! Factory’s recent BR release, there is much to admire in his innovative staging of the standard “siege picture.”

The action kicks off with the slaying of a half-dozen multi-racial gang members by the police, who are searching for a stolen cache of weapons. The firepower, as it turns out, has indeed fallen into the hands of the criminals, and in a round-table tenement scene, four Los Angeles gang warlords (Caucasian, Asian, Mexican, Black) slice their forearms and mingle their blood as a sign of solidarity against the authorities, solemnly intoning, “For the six.” In the meantime, newly christened Lieutenant Ethan Bishop (Austin Stoker) is given the task of overseeing the final hours of a to-be-shuttered police precinct (Precinct 8 in Division 13, to be exact – the inaccurate but catchier title was chosen by producers CKK after rejecting Carpenter’s original names “The Andersen Alamo” and “The Siege”).

However, Bishop’s dull assignment picks up considerably when the transportation of three hardened criminals (Darwin Joston, Tony Burton, Peter Frankland) from a distant prison is diverted to the station upon one of the prisoners falling ill. Shortly afterwards, the inhabitants are subjected to a nonstop battery of violence when, following the Caucasian warlord’s (Frank Doubleday) having gunned down the aforementioned moppet, her hysterical father (Martin West) retaliates, then seeks refuge in the nearly abandoned cop shop pursued by legions of heavily armed gang members. Badges and bad guys must now ally forces if they hope to survive the night.

The action scenes are balanced nicely with quiet moments of regrouping and plan-making, whereupon Carpenter allows the disparate characters to build relationships with one another and the viewer. Joston’s Napoleon Wilson, the most notorious of the convicts, possesses the easy, laconic charm of a latter-day John Wayne, and his connections with Stoker’s noble lawman and Laurie Zimmer’s cool-headed secretary are what give the film its heart. Burton, who appeared as Apollo Creed’s trainer Duke in the same year’s Rocky, tenders a humorously twitchy turn, bemoaning his unlucky lot in life.

The faceless hordes outside always seem just on the brink of breaching the sanctuary (shades of Night of the Living Dead), with silenced bullets strafing the walls and stacks of paper (one of Carpenter’s most inventive devices, in that we only hear the “zzzzip” of flying lead instead of the standard gunfire) or by climbing in the station’s many windows. These scenes are clearly reminiscent of any number of westerns, but the urban setting keeps them fresh. And, in this age of flutter-cut editing, the use of longer takes and attention to detail are a happy reminder that screen action works best when we can see, and care about, what’s going on.

Shout! Factory’s 2013 love affair with Carpenter continues, and the game veteran continues to deliver his laid-back brand of audio commentary – wry and smooth, he takes us through the onscreen events with mild regret over some of the missteps of youth but still enthusiastic about how well Assault holds up three decades later, celebrating familiar faces like Charles Cyphers (who would become a regular with Halloween, The Fog and Escape from New York) and classic Hollywood bad guy Henry Brandon.

On a separate audio track, Michael Felsher shares the mike with Tommy Lee Wallace, who served as art director and sound effects editor for the film. Wallace amiably discusses his long-time relationship with Carpenter (the two grew up together as kids and both later attended USC, although not at the same time) while pointing out his own voice as the police dispatch and the radio announcer, and the myriad of footfalls and squib blasts meticulously recreated for the foley soundtrack. Hats off to Felsher for being willing to travel off tangent in order to highlight some of Wallace’s other accomplishments, including a special nod to 1988’s underrated coming-of-age flick Aloha Summer, starring My Bodyguard’s Chris Makepeace and Enter the Ninja star Sho Koshugi.

Felsher’s welcome generosity extends to his 12-minute Red Shirt Pictures featurette “The Sassy One” with Nancy Loomis, as he allows the beloved cult actress – who made her film debut with Assault (as well as serving as the costume mistress) – to discuss her Carpenter-rich career (Halloween, The Fog, Halloween III) as well as her current career as a sculptor. We also are treated to a chat with Stoker in “Bishop Under Siege,” as well as a lengthy 2002 post-screening Q&A held at the Egyptian Theatre with the star and director. The extras package is rounded out by a theatrical trailer and a couple radio spots.

Assault on Precinct 13 is available now from Shout! Factory and can be ordered HERE.

http://www.shoutfactory.com/product/assault-precinct-13-collectors-edition-exclusive-poster 


--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine

Night of the Comet (1984) d. Thom Eberhardt (USA)

The good doctor grew up in a house devoid of cable (or even much in the way of network television), so many of the nostalgia items that make up many of my fellow genre fans’ ’80s pop culture bedrock were not available to me, at least not in the heavy rotation kind of way. Such was the case with writer/director Eberhardt’s cult classic Night of the Comet, which I only encountered decades later via MGM’s bare bones DVD release. While I wasn’t displeased, the “Valley Girls meet the Apocalypse” saga didn’t instantly burrow its way into my heart, in spite of the terrific offbeat cast of Catherine Mary Stuart (The Last Starfighter), Kelli Maroney (Chopping Mall), Robert Beltram (Eating Rauol), Geoffrey Lewis (Every Which Way But Loose) and Mary Woronov (Death Race 2000, among many others). However, after recently gorging myself on Shout! Factory’s Collector’s Edition BR/DVD combo release of the film, stuffed to bursting with special features that genuinely live up to the name, I can definitely say that I’ve been won over in a big, big way.

The slight tale’s premise is that a mysterious comet (much like 1985’s ballyhooed return of Halley’s) will be making a return visit to Earth’s nighttime heavens for the first time in 65 million years. The event provides the excuse for global reveling, with drunken interstellar enthusiasts lining the streets by the millions (since this is a low-budget effort, we only see about 25 people gazing skyward, but you get the idea). Unfortunately for Mankind, the red-hued gases that accompany the big-headed celestial traveler prove fatal, sucking the water right out of every living creature and leaving only a pile of dust behind.

But hope for our species emerges in the form of two sisters, Reggie (Stewart) and Samantha (Maroney), who rebelliously elect to skip the astronomy gazing portion of the evening and accidentally save their skins in the process. Seems that the gases can’t penetrate steel, and since Reg is “making it” with the hunky projectionist (Michael Bowen) in the metal-lined booth of the cinema where she works as a videogame-obsessed usher, and Sam has taken sulky shelter in the backyard equipment shed after a literal knock-down fight with her stepmom (Sharon Farrell), the two are safe...barring the occasional morning-after encounter with random, partially exposed zombie-types. Truck driver Hector (top-billed Beltran) also appears on the scene, but then takes off to discover the fate of his own family, promising to return as soon as possible.

Far from the downer version presented in 1971’s The Omega Man, this is a bouncy and joyful romp where the girls (who’ve been instructed in survival techniques by their absent-in-Nicaragua commando father) make L.A. their personal playground by taking over radio stations, raiding shopping malls, and riding newly acquired motor vehicles to their heart’s content. Of course, all that changes once a group of scientific heavies (led by Lewis and Woronov) show up to harvest the precious bodily fluids of the survivors.

To be honest, the plot doesn’t really hold up to close scrutiny, but this is far from hard sci-fi fare – the invitation is to join the fantasy adventure of teens being left unsupervised in a major metropolitan area and the enthusiasm is undeniably infectious. The film doesn’t necessarily excel in any one area, but it does feature engaging lead performances, a lively soundtrack, a few effective moments of fright, and oodles of low budget can-do personality.

Much of the latter element is explored in depth throughout the bountiful extras on Shout! Factory’s latest issue, providing a rich context for how this apocalyptic charmer came into being. We get not one, not two, but three audio commentary tracks which miraculously manage to avoid the same stories as well as providing different viewpoints. Edwin Samuelson of the A.V. Club and The Cinefiles shares the mike with the chatty Maroney and Stewart, who discuss the challenges of early dawn/middle-of-the-night shoots (in order to achieve the isolated atmosphere) and the benefits of having come from soap opera backgrounds, where preparation is key and a second take can never be counted on. Both hold the film in high esteem for its positive portrayal of strong female characters, and the thrills and fun inherent to its escapist setting.

Red Shirt Pictures’ Michael Felsher takes us around the track with writer/director Eberhardt, who shares his various inspirations such as 1954’s Target Earth and the “Where is Everybody” Twilight Zone pilot episode, and openly states that he wasn’t looking to make any kind of lasting social statement, but rather just an enjoyable slice of entertainment. Though the funds were meager (approx $750,000), collective morale and imagination were high and the results still hold up. He also reveals that much of the “movie magic” of his deserted Los Angeles was accomplished by shooting in less-frequented neighborhoods, nabbing lulls between stoplights, or scheduling a shot early Christmas morning.

Felsher then sits down again with production designer John Muto (Home Alone, Species). This track proves to be the real surprise, and hats off to Felsher for having the foresight to track Muto down because the man is a wealth of practical information on how the simplest things can create mood and atmosphere. Several practical visual effects are explained, both simple (graduated red filters placed on the camera lens in order to achieve the pink-orange skyline) and advanced (trick shots involving matte paintings, miniatures, and double exposures), but even more important is the true understanding of what a production designer does and how his/her work can influence an entire film. Fascinating stuff that rises above mere trivia (although, oddly enough, no one ever references the omnipresence of Diet Pepsi in this new world order).

The other bonus features (all produced by Red Shirt) kick off with “Valley Girls at the End of the World,” a 15-minute featurette with Maroney and Stewart. We don’t gain much new intel that we didn’t hear on the commentary track, but our daring duo prove just as appealing onscreen 30 years later. In “Last Man on Earth?”, Beltran reveals that it was he who suggested his Rauol co-star Woronov, as well as the fact that Hector was original conceived as much more of a “cholo” stereotype, which the actor wasn’t interested in repeating. As a result, the character’s ethnicity, while still apparent, becomes a non-issue in a surprisingly prescient multicultural way. “Curse of the Comet” showcases makeup f/x designer David B. Miller (who also famously designed Nightmare on Elm Street’s Freddy Krueger and worked alongside heavyweights Greg Cannom and Craig Reardon on Dreamscape that same year).

We also get two photo galleries and the original theatrical trailer, topped off by brand new artwork by Nathan Thomas Milliner. 

Night of the Comet is available to own November 19, 2013 from Shout! Factory and can be pre-ordered HERE.

http://www.shoutfactory.com/product/night-comet-collectors-edition-exclusive-poster


--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine