When trying to figure out what horror film one should select from their vast collection of genre cinema that mostly remains unseen to watch for the very first time with the fresh eyes of a newborn babe, I find that the best approach is to ask oneself "Do any of these feature a porn star trying some 'straight' acting within the genre?" And you know, it's surprising how many times that comes back with a "yes". My review of David DeCoteau's Creepozoids - which co-starred Ashlyn Gere - is one that springs to mind (as an M. R. James-style warning to the curious, that review can be found here). And so it follows, quite naturally enough if you're mental, that I asked myself if I had to hand a horror movie that I had yet to view that also starred a classic '80s American porn star. No, not Jeff Stryker - I've seen Zombie Flesh Eaters 3 more than enough (at least twice: the second time was to check that it was as bad as I thought it was [note: it definitely is]). No, not Amber Lynn - I don't actually own a copy of Things, and judging by every review I've seen it might be awful enough to jeapardise my already fragile mental health.
Probably best we move on from this.
Night of the Beast - also known under it's shooting title (shooting title? Are you implying that actual work, thought, and the normal filmmaking process were involved in the creation of this?!?) of Lukas' Child (no, it isn't a sequel, even in name only, to the 1986 Corey Haim classic Lucas) - opens with a gathering of a Satanic cult, the members of which dress in regulation hooded cloaks and skeleton masks and as a result look highly reminiscent of the supernatural army from Jess Franco's The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein. Their leader, Lukas Armand (Robert May), is to be charitable a portly older gentleman who sits smoking a cigar like a bored businessman in a strip club whilst an 'exotically' dressed (breast-baring fetish wear, thigh high boots and a rather fetching diaphanous cape) dancer terpsichores for him and his minions in their neon bulb and candle-lit dungeon lair. Neon and candlelight? Surely a faux pas?
A nubile young scantily-dressed sacrifice is brought in, and Lukas informs her that "You have broken the Code of Conduct, and cannot be forgiven!" I wouldn't mind if she violated my CoC. Anyway, the young lady, dressed in some lovely lingerie, is swiftly dispatched. Which seems a shame. Is that what 'pantywaist' means? Lukas cackles with his stripper henchwoman, who seems very much the Evil Lyn to his Skeletor. This young woman isn't the first victim to have been captured by Lukas' cult, of course, and Detective Steve Anderson (Gene LeBrock, in the penultimate role of his thankfully brief career) is on the case, ably assisted by Detective Susan Wesley (Shanna McCu... oh, wait... Marcia Gray. Because what a piece of cinema to go legit in). Susan has discovered a medallion bearing a five pointed star in the home of the most recent missing girl.
"It's a pentacle, it's used in witchcraft... to ward off evil spirits" she helpfully informs plank of wood Steve and the thicker members of the audience, whilst proving her credentials from the Slaughtered Lamb Police Academy. And so Steve is hot on the trail of the missing aspiring actresses who have all mysteriously vanished after auditioning for a part in a horror movie - auditions which always seem to end with the bookcase of the room sliding back to reveal Lukas sitting in his wheelchair like a Satanic cross between Ironside and Nero Wolfe, and deciding to sacrifice these nubile twentysomething clothes-allergic ladies to his 'son' - a behorned and bewinged daemonic monstrosity whose prosthetics are quite good to be fair. If you can imagine the Unnameable's cheaper cousin, you're there.
When two more girls go missing, one whom's father is, according to Susan, "a cop in the Hill Street division" (boy, he must be feeling pretty blue) Steve gets right on the case by sleeping with two of the witnesses. In his defence one of them if played by fetish wresting starlet Tori Sinclair, but still - unethical, right? But by gritty determination... no, outright luck, and the assistance of two random boys straight out of either The Goonies or The Return of Swamp Thing (more the latter, really. And Monique Gabrielle probably should have shown up in this film, too) he manages to solve the case, rescue the surviving scantily-clad captives, and defeat the bad guys. Just like a proper hero cop on a mission who lives his life on the edge (who sleeps with every woman he meets apart from his far more attractive partner) should.
I can't in any form of honesty pretend this is a good film or recommend it to anyone.
As spurious reasons for T & A packages as horror films go, I think I preferred Burial of the Rats in all honesty. Maria Ford's no Shanna, but at least she had the common decency to wear a sexy outfit. Seriously, who hires a genuine porn star and AVN Award winner and she's the only actress in the entire movie to keep her clothes on throughout? Looks like I'm going to have to get round to watching Pornogothic after all. Don't expect a review of that one though, because Shanna + goth = I'll probably be blind by the end of it.
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