INSEMINOID aka HORROR PLANET (UK - 1981; US release 1982) Directed by Norman J. Warren. Written by Nick Maley and Gloria Maley. Cast: Judy Geeson, Robin Clarke, Jennifer Ashley, Stephanie Beacham, Steven Grives, Barry Houghton, Rosalind Lloyd, Victoria Tennant, Trevor Thomas, Heather Wright, David Baxt, Dominic Jephcott, John Segal, Kevin O'Shea, Robert Pugh. (R, 92 mins) A trashy cult horror classic from the glory days of '80s late-night cable, 1981's INSEMINOID (aka HORROR PLANET) is probably the best-known work of British exploitation auteur Norman J. Warren (SATAN'S SLAVE, PREY, TERROR). A blatant ALIEN knockoff that would make a great triple feature with GALAXY OF TERROR and XTRO, INSEMINOID revels in its sleaze, gore, and general grossness, which is really key to its nostalgic charm from a bygone era but would probably result in instant cancellation were it made today. Just out on Blu-ray from Scream Factory (because physical media is dead), INSEMINOID doesn't waste any time letting you know that it's an ALIEN ripoff, after an archaeological expedition finds evidence of past life in tombs on an unnamed planet with two suns and an average temperature of 89 below zero.
Two crew members, Ricky (David Baxt, who had a tiny role as a forest ranger in THE SHINING) and Dean (Dominic Jephcott) are exploring a cave and witness a rock formation exploding. Dean is injured and dies, while Ricky seems to be under the psychological hold of some crystals that were expelled during the blast. After busting out of quarantine, a seemingly possessed Ricky tries to sabotage the installation's oxygen supply and is killed by documentation officer Kate (Stephanie Beacham). Two other crew members--Sandy (Judy Geeson) and Mitch (Trevor Thomas)--venture into the caves only to have an alien creature appear out of nowhere and tear Mitch to shreds before raping Sandy. Another explosion and subsequent cave-in leaves them stranded in the facility until a rescue team can make the long journey to save them. In the meantime, the team's doctor Karl (Barry Houghton) discovers that the traumatized Sandy is in the midst of an accelerated twin pregnancy that doesn't seem to be the result of her relationship with mission commander Mark (Robin Clarke). Sandy then develops an insatiable thirst for blood, stalking and killing the crew one by one in graphic fashion to nourish her growing alien fetuses.
Warren dives right into the horrific mayhem, allowing almost nothing in the way of character development or even getting a handle on who's who on the crew, which consists of about a dozen people for Geeson's Sandy to work her way through. INSEMINOID has a larger-than-normal body count as far as these ALIEN ripoffs go (a young Victoria Tennant, years before marrying Steve Martin and starring with him in L.A. STORY, makes an early exit). It's to Warren's credit that he keeps the film trucking along with all manner of sexual violence and grindhouse gore (there's even a scene where someone has to chainsaw off their own foot), with Geeson, by that point a veteran actress best known for co-starring with Sidney Poitier in 1967's TO SIR WITH LOVE, literally sinking her teeth into it with an intense and fearless performance, giving no visible indication that the whole project is maybe a little beneath her. Likewise for Beacham, a few years away from American TV fame on DYNASTY, THE COLBYS, and SISTER KATE, who reportedly turned down a role in a prestigious London play because this paid more and she needed the money.
The Scream Factory Blu-ray includes a feature-length documentary on Warren, with a focus on the production of INSEMINOID. He cast two Americans for export value--Clarke, who had just co-starred in the Tim Conway/Don Knotts comedy THE PRIZE FIGHTER and had a small role in the George C. Scott/Marlon Brando thriller THE FORMULA, and Jennifer Ashley, who established her drive-in exploitation bona fides in 1976's THE POM POM GIRLS, 1977's TINTORERA, and 1980's GUYANA: CULT OF THE DAMNED on her way to 1983's immortal CHAINED HEAT. Ashley straight-up admits she was out of her league working opposite Geeson and Beacham, but Warren praises her professionalism. That's more than he or Ashley can say about Clarke, described by all involved parties as an arrogant, uncooperative pain in the ass who alienated the entire cast and kept behaving as if having "a Brando movie" on his resume gave him bragging rights, even frequently second-guessing and arguing with the director (Warren: "Robin was in THE FORMULA and he had one scene, where he gets shot in the pre-credits sequence...his scene wasn't even with Brando," adding that Clarke was "the only actor I ever had to yell at").
INSEMINOID is a nasty time capsule from that grimy New Wave of British Horror scene going back to the early '70s that gave us cult figures like Warren, XTRO director Harry Bromley Davenport, and the movement's most famous figure, Pete Walker, the director of gems like 1971's DIE SCREAMING MARIANNE, 1974's HOUSE OF WHIPCORD, and 1976's SCHIZO. These films took a decidedly scuzzier and often sexploitative approach that went further than stalwart UK horror houses Hammer and Amicus. It probably wouldn't play well for more sensitive audiences today, though its alien rape scene is surprisingly less offensive than a similar sequence in the Roger Corman-produced GALAXY OF TERROR, that was made around the same time. Released in a few cities in the US in the spring of 1982 under its original title before being rechristened HORROR PLANET for a relaunch the following fall, INSEMINOID enjoyed a long life in video stores and on cable (under the HORROR PLANET title), and even after the dawn of the DVD era gave some of his older films their first signifcant exposure on these shores, it remains Warren's most widely-seen film in America. Now 78, he's only made two features since--the 1986 spy actioner GUNPOWDER with FELLINI SATYRICON star Martin Potter, and the 1987 slasher film BLOODY NEW YEAR, after which he essentially retired, aside from a few music videos, though he's been an active participant on DVD and Blu-ray bonus features and makes occasional appearances on the UK convention circuit.
Directed by Jimmy Sangster. Written by Jimmy Sangster and Michael Syson. Cast: Judy Geeson, Joan Collins, Ralph Bates, Peter Cushing, James Cossins, Gillian Lind, Brian Grellis, John Bown. (PG, 94 mins) A minor late-period Hammer thriller that's rarely referenced today, 1972's middling FEAR IN THE NIGHT gets by almost entirely on atmosphere alone, set in an eerily empty boarding school that allows director/co-writer Jimmy Sangster to maximize the sense of isolation felt by the film's terrorized heroine. But the story is so rote, predictable, and ultimately silly that the payoff isn't really worth the buildup. Recovering from what's been unfairly deemed a nervous breakdown (someone slipped her a mickey in a restaurant) followed closely by an attack by a one-armed man that no one around her believes really happened, Peggy (Judy Geeson) leaves her job as a caregiver for elderly Mrs. Beamish (Gillian Lind) when she marries teacher Robert (Ralph Bates) after a whirlwind romance. Robert moves them to an isolated rural area outside of London where he's accepted a position at a boarding school run by headmaster Carmichael (Peter Cushing). But right away, something is off and naive Peggy never does quite pick up on it: there doesn't seem to be any other teachers aside from Robert, and she keeps hearing voices in classrooms but there's no sign of any students. Carmichael--who has a prosthetic left arm--acts weird around her, she gets a strange vibe from his much-younger wife Molly (Joan Collins), and she's eventually attacked again by a one-armed man, but an incredulous, dismissive Robert tells her to "sleep on it" before talking her out of calling the police.
Hammer fans will recognize recycled elements from other Sangster-scripted women-in-peril thrillers like SCREAM OF FEAR (1961), PARANOIAC (1963), NIGHTMARE (1964), and CRESCENDO (1970), with some dashes of classics like GASLIGHT and DIABOLIQUE for good measure. But some of the big third-act reveals are so obvious that you'll figure out that someone is trying to drive Peggy insane and frame her for a murder long before Peggy does, especially with Robert's behavior and the presence of Collins, cast radically against type as a scheming, manipulative bitch. Robert's confession to Peggy about why he's actually at the school and what he's actually doing for Carmichael is utter nonsense, and the ultimate trick pulled off by Carmichael just comes off as one contrivance too many. Despite its myriad flaws, FEAR IN THE NIGHT is a reasonably enjoyable Hammer suspense thriller if approached with shrugged shoulders and an appropriately diminished level of expectation. Geeson (best known for co-starring with Sidney Poitier in 1967's TO SIR, WITH LOVE and more recently emerging from semi-retirement to appear in Rob Zombie's THE LORDS OF SALEM and 31) turns in an appealing performance even though you'll wish she wasn't so meek, passive, and slow on the uptake. It's obvious from the moment he's introduced sinisterly grimacing while adjusting his prosthetic arm like Dr. Strangelove that Cushing's Carmichael can't possibly be the villain, and with what's essentially a four-character story, it doesn't take much sleuthing on the part of the viewer to figure out what's going on and who's responsible.
Having written trailblazing Hammer titles like 1957's THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN and 1958's HORROR OF DRACULA among many others, Sangster saw his short-lived and largely negatively-received directing career end with FEAR IN THE NIGHT, which followed 1970's THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN and 1971's LUST FOR A VAMPIRE. All three of Sangster's films starred Ralph Bates, FEAR being the last of several unsuccessful attempts at grooming the young actor to be Hammer horror's heir apparent, selected to help nab the youth market as Cushing was pushing 60 and Christopher Lee was nearing 50. Hammer and Bates parted ways by the time FEAR IN THE NIGHT was barely released in the US in 1974, and it marked the only film to team Bates with Cushing, the legend he was supposed to succeed. The film is old-fashioned enough and completely lacking in the lurid sex and skin in which Hammer was beginning to indulge that, aside from the hairstyles and the fashions and one shouted "Bastard!," it could've been made a decade earlier.
Ralph Bates and Jimmy Sangster
on the set of FEAR IN THE NIGHT
For all its stale twists and predictability issues, FEAR IN THE NIGHT (just out on Blu-ray from Scream Factory because physical media is dead), is probably Sangster's most accomplished directorial effort from a technical standpoint. The money shot that concludes the opening credits sequence is legitimately creepy, there's some unusual cutting techniques that are well-handled, and the use of all the open space in the hallways and abandoned rooms at the school indicates that he may have caught some of the early hits of the Italian giallo craze. But without the shocking violence and the innovative style of a Dario Argento, FEAR IN THE NIGHT can't really compete in that field, and the story is so old-hat that most of the "surprise" twists are really just hoary cliches. Sangster (1927-2011) would soon leave Hammer behind, relocating to Hollywood by late 1972, where he became a busy television writer, only periodically dabbling in big-screen horror (he wrote 1978's THE LEGACY and 1980's PHOBIA) while focusing on TV shows like BANACEK, IRONSIDE, CANNON, MCCLOUD, MOVIN' ON, THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN, WONDER WOMAN, and B.J. AND THE BEAR.
31 (US - 2016) Written and directed by Rob Zombie. Cast: Sheri Moon Zombie, Malcolm McDowell, Judy Geeson, Jeff Daniel Phillips, Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, Meg Foster, Kevin Jackson, Jane Carr, Richard Brake, Lew Temple, Daniel Roebuck, Pancho Moler, David Ury, Torsten Voges, E.G. Daily, Esperanza America, Andrea Dora, Michael "Redbone" Alcott, Tracey Walter, Ginger Lynn Allen, Devin Sidell. (R, 103 mins) Earlier this year, critic/blogger Jason Coffman wrote a fascinating piece about horror fandom that went viral and quite frankly deserves a Pulitzer. It was filled with things that needed to be said, such as, in no uncertain terms, that horror fans are the worst. Of course, that's a gross generalization on my part that wasn't exactly Coffman's central thesis, but he questioned why a very vocal contingent of horror fans--he called them the "gatekeepers"--had such vehemently negative reactions to thoughtful, serious horror films that received significant accolades from critics outside of horror circles. The piece was written specifically in response to audiences turning on THE WITCH, but it also referenced similarly acclaimed offerings like THE BABADOOK and IT FOLLOWS. To reject original, thought-provoking films that fall in the horror realm, to question their genre validity because they've been praised by those outside the insulated horror bubble, Coffman posited, is to "reinforce the image of the 'horror fan' as a slack-jawed dullard whose only interests are sex and gore."
Well, he's right. And you can thank the gatekeepers for 31, the latest film from horror/metal icon Rob Zombie. Financed in large part by crowdfunding, 31 is Zombie's gift to his fans, the gatekeepers who adore him. To criticize Zombie--to even question him--is verboten in horror gatekeeper circles. Zombie is a guy who knows and loves horror movies. It showed in his days fronting the band White Zombie, itself named after the 1932 Bela Lugosi classic. But after 16 years and with six feature films under his belt, shouldn't there be some kind of progress by now? I'll give Zombie props where it's due: his second film, THE DEVIL'S REJECTS, is his masterpiece, a definitive mission statement that melded the '70s aesthetic of Tobe Hooper and hillbilly horror with the operatically bloody ferocity of Sam Peckinpah. It's foul, it's vile, it's difficult to watch--and it's incredibly powerful and an unforgettable experience. And Zombie's never come close to it since. His entire filmmaking career seems to be an endless, circle-jerking tribute to 1986's THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2. His 2007 remake of HALLOWEEN is a disjointed fusion of his usual hicksploitation horror before shifting gears to became a condensed, pointless remake of the 1978 original, while the less said about his 2009 HALLOWEEN II, the better. 2013's THE LORDS OF SALEM was ultimately a misfire that lost its way as it devolved into sub-Jodorowsky shock imagery, but it had a weird '70s Satanism vibe going on, like 1973's MESSIAH OF EVIL if directed by Stanley Kubrick. It wasn't a success, but Zombie was at least making a concerted effort to work outside of his comfort zone for the majority of the film.
31 finds Zombie back in his comfort zone and on total autopilot. His 2003 debut, HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES (shot in 2000 and left in distribution limbo for three years), is a terrible movie but it at least has the excuse of being a debut. What's his excuse for 31? It's like an "extreme" version of his already "extreme" schtick, but his abilities seem to be regressing. He's so reliant on in-your-face shaky-cam and garish lighting (including a strobe-lit sequence) that a good chunk of the film is visually incoherent. And the plot? The same shit. It's set on Halloween 1976 and a bunch of hard-partying carnival workers who say "fuck" a lot are lured into the middle of nowhere to take part in "31." It's a MOST DANGEROUS GAME-type contest overseen by a trio of foppish Brits, dressed as grotesque aristocrats in powdered wigs and pancake makeup like they're going to a midnight showing of BARRY LYNDON: Father Murder (Malcolm McDowell), Sister Dragon (Judy Geeson), and Sister Serpent (Jane Carr). The five carnies--headed by Zombie's usual star, wife Sheri Moon Zombie as Charly--have to overcome unbeatable odds to survive the night as they face off against their opponents hellbent on slaughtering them. The killers are an increasingly ludicrous collection of ROAD WARRIOR rejects in clown makeup: Sick-Head (Pancho Moler), a demented little person in a Hitler stache and with a swastika painted on his chest; Psycho-Head (Lew Temple) and Schizo-Head (David Ury), a pair of chainsaw-wielding brothers; and the cartoonishly Germanic Death-Head (Torsten Voges) and the fetishist Sex-Head (E.G. Daily). Not all of the carnies make it, but once that initial lineup is defeated, Father Murder calls in his ace closer Doom-Head, a maniac prone to pretentious, philosophical Quentin Tarantino-esque monologues and played in a grating, headache-inducing fashion by Richard Brake in what might be 2016's most unbearable performance that will nonetheless inspire countless insufferable cosplayers at horror cons for the next decade.
Like Tarantino, Zombie has favorite cult actors he likes to use repeatedly--McDowell, Geeson, Daily, Meg Foster, Daniel Roebuck, and former porn star Ginger Lynn Allen have been in past Zombie films (Geeson came out of a decade-long retirement to co-star in THE LORDS OF SALEM)--and here he even gives us a prominent role for Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, best known as Sweathog Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington on WELCOME BACK KOTTER 40 years ago, here playing Panda, one of the doomed carnies. It's nice to see Hilton-Jacobs again, but it's too bad he's using an overdone Jamaican accent that renders most of his dialogue unintelligible. You'll wish more of the dialogue was unintelligible when you see Foster (as carny Venus Virgo) gesticulating around her crotch and saying "fucky fucky fucky, juicy juicy juicy, money money money" and witness this enlightening conversation between carny Levon (Kevin Jackson) and a cackling Sick-Head (note: transcription double-checked for accuracy):
A louder and somehow even more obnoxious HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES peppered with shout-outs to Tobe Hooper's THE FUNHOUSE, 31 is obviously intended for the Rob Zombie superfans and is more or less a greatest hits package, from the splattery violence to the endless vulgarity to resemblance of the "Heads" to Captain Spaulding and the Firefly clan to the ersatz Peckinpah WILD BUNCH freeze-frames and the opening credits featuring a Southern rock favorite (in this case, the James Gang's "Walk Away"). If you're one of the Rob Zombie gatekeepers, then you decided this "fuckin' ruled" before he even started filming. 31 is for you. Go enjoy yourself. You've seen it all before--and better--but hey, this is what you wanted.
