Directed by Nico Mastorakis. Written by Nico Mastorakis and Fred C. Perry. Cast: Meg Foster, Wings Hauser, David McCallum, Robert Morley, Steve Railsback, John Michaels, Tracy Young, Summer Thomas, Michael Yannatos, Dina Yanakou. (Unrated, 92 mins) I'm always happy to see any '80s obscurity from the video store glory days get a lovingly-assembled Blu-ray release, but at the same time, we have to wonder if the well's getting a little dry or if the priorities are being misplaced when faced with the resurrection of something like 1987's THE WIND. Directed and co-written by Greek exploitation auteur Nico Mastorakis (ISLAND OF DEATH, THE ZERO BOYS, IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT), THE WIND is just out on Blu-ray from Arrow Video (because physical media is dead), with a pristine restoration and a booklet with a well-written essay by film historian Kat Ellinger that dutifully attempts to find thematic subtext, in the process putting more thought into the film than Mastorakis ever did. Shifting his operation from Greece to Hollywood around 1986, the now-79-year-old Mastorakis was a key player in the early days of direct-to-video, and his films were ubiquitous in the inventories of every video store in existence from the mid '80s to the mid '90s. There's been a primarily nostalgia-based resurgence of interest in his work in recent years, though some of these Blu-ray releases demonstrate a definite sense of style (he loves silhouetted, backlit-fog shots) when seen in restored, remastered form and in their proper aspect ratios, and his independently-funded projects almost always demonstrated a higher-than-expected attention to quality production values. Similar to Roger Corman, a few future big names found some work on Mastorakis crews: nearly a decade before THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, Frank Darabont was an assistant art director on 1986's THE ZERO BOYS, and several Mastorakis films--including THE WIND--were scored by a then-unknown Hans Zimmer, years before becoming an 11-time Oscar-nominee and Best Original Score winner for 1994's THE LION KING. And like Corman in his drive-in heyday, Mastorakis' low-budget films were profitable enough with the worldwide demand for home video product that he had the payroll to secure the services of actors who might've been in a slump or on the downside of their careers, but were established professionals whose names or faces would attract new release wall browsers looking for something to rent when their first choices were checked out on a Friday or Saturday night.
But THE WIND, which hit VHS back in the day courtesy of the great Vestron offshoot Lightning Video, only manages to live down to nearly every negative association with the term "straight-to-video." It's a horror film that isn't scary, a thriller that isn't suspenseful, and it's got a cast of familiar, reputable actors wasting their time in something that not only wasn't good enough for the big screen, but wasn't even worth $2 to watch at home on a slow night. Mastorakis never made a great movie, but he made some that were at least entertaining, and THE WIND (released in some parts of the world as THE EDGE OF TERROR) has to be one of his worst. In a rare lead, Meg Foster and her always-captivating ice-blue eyes star as pulp genre novelist Sian Anderson, who's taking some time away from L.A. and her boyfriend John (David McCallum) to go to a remote Greek island to work on her latest book. She rents an ancient villa from British expat islander Elias (a typically harumphing Robert Morley), who informs her of the secret passageways and tunnels that were constructed under the buildings in early A.D. times as a safe place to retreat in case of attacking ships. He also tells her, in a truly clumsy bit of bush-league foreshadowing, to disregard the closets that he's left locked because "they don't contain anything valuable...just my son's hunting weapons!" The surrounding villas are deserted, and the only other person hanging around is unreliable, Detroit-born handyman Phil (Wings Hauser), who's left the place a mess and acts twitchy and weird from the moment he first appears. Elias has had just about enough of Phil and is about to fire him when Phil snaps and kills him. Hearing a noise outside, Sian looks out of a window and sees Phil burying the body. Phil also sees her see him burying the body, and so begins a night of terror as Sian barricades herself in the villa, but Phil, knowing other ways in, cuts off the phone and keeps popping up and chasing her around as violent winds kick up and howl throughout the night.
A sort of REAR WINDOW-ish home invasion thriller on a deserted Greek isle (Mastorakis shot the film on the island of Monemvassia) at least provides some occasionally interesting atmosphere, but THE WIND doesn't have nearly enough material to sustain interest for an hour and a half. Phil keeps getting in the villa, Sian keeps getting away, he disappears for a while, then he turns up again and the process repeats. The villa isn't very big, so Foster and Hauser move strangely slow and with little urgency during these "suspense" sequences. Sian's initial reaction to what she's witnessed and having a sickle-wielding Phil coming for her is played so oddly nonchalant that for a while, it almost seems like Mastorakis is setting up some clumsy twist. Sian talks to herself a lot, so you might think that she's imagining all of it, or what we're seeing is her book playing out onscreen as she workshops the plot machinations in her head. That would've been predictable, but it would've been something. THE WIND just seems to kill a lot of time, like Mastorakis is just dragging things out until he has enough footage to call it a feature-length movie. That's especially the case with a nothing role for Steve Railsback as Kesner, an American boat captain stranded at the village police station because of the high winds. He appears 50 minutes in and ends up checking on Sian after John places a phone call to the local police, then makes a quick exit a few minutes later when he's killed by Phil.
Speaking of actors with nothing to do, McCallum never leaves L.A. and makes a few brief appearances beside what might be his own swimming pool, on the phone telling a terrified Sian to lock the doors and that he'll get the cops to check on her, and the next time she calls, he's floating around the pool seemingly without a care in the world. And that's the last we see of him. Hauser as an unhinged psycho killer is usually a can't-miss proposition, as anyone who's experienced his iconic performance as crazed pimp Ramrod in 1982's VICE SQUAD can attest, but even he's coasting through on autopilot here, probably more interested in the Mastorakis-provided Greek vacation and maybe wrapping things up early so he can take a day and check out the Parthenon. The whole Greek setting is largely superfluous until a final, slow-moving chase manages to show off some scenic Monemvassia locales before Phil's hilarious, windy comeuppance (four guys are credited with operating the wind machine, and they definitely earned their pay). Foster was always a solid actress who never really got the shots she deserved (does anyone remember that she played Cagney in the first six episodes of CAGNEY & LACEY before CBS execs deemed her "too aggressive" and feared viewers would perceive the character as a lesbian, leading to her being replaced by Sharon Gless?), and while it's nice to see her in a starring role, it's in a film that's completely unworthy of her talents, and one that probably didn't need the deluxe Blu-ray treatment. Still, I'm glad it exists...I guess.
IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT (US - 1991) Directed by Nico Mastorakis. Written by Nico Mastorakis and Fred C. Perry. Cast: Jeff Lester, Adrianne Sachs, Marc Singer, David Soul, Tippi Hedren, Brian Thompson, Shannon Tweed, John Beck, Jack Kehler, Shelley Michelle. (NC-17, 112 mins) If there's a genre of exploitation trash that's been woefully under-represented on DVD and Blu-ray, it has to be the straight-to-video, unrated erotic thrillers that were constantly gushing all over the new release walls of America's video stores throughout the first half of the 1990s. A couple of years ago, some of us hoped that Synapse's Blu-ray release of the 1995 Jim Wynorski-directed, Julie Strain-starring SORCERESS would herald the much-anticipated resurrection of these things, but it's been largely crickets and tumbleweed since. Shout! Factory recently released a POISON IVY box set, which is a start (even though the fourth one is a Lifetime movie, for fuck's sake), and Mill Creek has some Andy Sidaris joints on the way for the T&A action crowd, but where's the BODY CHEMISTRY, NIGHT EYES, INDECENT BEHAVIOR, SECRET GAMES, ANIMAL INSTINCTS, or MIRROR IMAGES collections? Where's the Shannon Tweed triple features? Where's the IN THE HEAT OF PASSION or SCORNED double feature Blu-rays? Fortunately, Vinegar Syndrome does their part to satiate the burning desires of those who were powerless to avoid the seductive early '90s temptations of any VHS box displaying the magic word--"UNRATED!"--with their Blu-ray release (because physical media is dead) of 1991's IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT, directed and co-written by Greek exploitation auteur Nico Mastorakis (more on him here).
Playing like a weird and utterly nonsensical fusion of a late '80s Italian fashion giallo and a prototype of the in-its-infancy DTV/Skinemax erotic thriller while somewhat prefiguring the "virtual reality" craze that would kick off with the next year's THE LAWNMOWER MAN, IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT centers on Scott Bruin (Jeff Lester), an in-demand Malibu fashion photographer with a glowing, fluorescent waterbed, who's suddenly plagued by horrific nightmares that look like garbled video transmissions, where he believes he's killing a beautiful woman he's never met. He even wakes up in the act of strangling his current friend-with-benefits, sultry model Lena (Shannon Tweed), who's shocked but still turned on ("Your hand was around my throat, I couldn't breathe! But I almost came..."). He gets nowhere with a shrink (David Soul), who simply advises "You need a good night's sleep," which is kinda hard with a bed that serves as a source of bright, blinding light. He also gets some jokey support from his fridge-raiding, bodybuilder best buddy Phil (Brian Thompson), and for some reason, clears his head by hanging out at the beach and having pizza with a homeless guy (Jack Kehler, best known as The Dude's dance quintet landlord in THE BIG LEBOWSKI). It's here that he sees a panicked, pony-tailed guy on a bike wearing a T-shirt adorned with the airbrushed image of the mystery woman's face. Scott does some digging and gets nowhere with Rudy (John Beck), the shop owner who made the shirt, but immediately after, the mystery woman arrives at his front door. She's Kimberly Shawn (Adrianne Sachs), who rides her motorcycle right into his living room and explains that Rudy knows her ex-husband, though she's very vague on the matter. Of course, Scott and Kimberly begin a passionate fling, but he's still haunted by visions of himself--or someone--killing her again and again.
Released straight-to-video in February 1991, IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT was among the first films to be slapped with an NC-17 rating, created the previous fall as a replacement to the stigmatized X and first given to Philip Kaufman's controversial HENRY & JUNE. There's plenty of skin, grinding, and high-in-the-sound-mix slurping in the film's sex scenes--not to mention a peculiar use for a dish of marbles--but what's here really didn't seem NC-17-worthy then and it definitely doesn't now (Mastorakis said the MPAA had a problem with the shots of Sachs' vigorous thrusting on top of Lester). The cuts had to be minimal since Republic Pictures Home Video released it in both NC-17 and R versions (the latter presumably for Blockbuster), and both clocked in at 112 minutes. Filled with plenty of neon set decor, acid-washed jeans, big hair, and wailing saxes--the tell-tale sign in these things that people are about to get busy--IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT is very much a product of the DTV erotic thriller in its early stages, but it has a more ambitious storyline than its fellow genre standard-bearers like NIGHT EYES, LAST CALL, and the later flood of post-BASIC INSTINCT knockoffs that were down the road.
Ambitious though it may be, that storyline doesn't really make much sense, especially when a sinister, smirking Marc Singer shows up in the third act for the dual function as the film's villain--the kind of guy who has an ominous wall of TV monitors in his living room--and dutiful Basil Exposition, giving a long, lecturing speech about Scott being the unwitting guinea pig in a government-contracted experiment using TV signals sent through an implant in a tooth as a means of mind control. You'd think with all the money invested in this project, they'd use this technology in a financial or even a MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE or PARALLAX VIEW way rather than just voyeuristically watching some douchebag fashion photographer bang models on his ridiculous glowing waterbed. Mastorakis specifically namechecks Brian De Palma and one could see this as sort of sci-fi-tinged BODY DOUBLE, and the stylishly foggy, blue backlit climax serves to demonstrate Mastorakis' affection for the work of Michael Mann, and to his credit, he does seem to recognize the campy elements, with some outrageously suggestive use of finger food during Scott and Kimberly's dinner, along with an overflowing bottle of uncorked champagne, stopping ust short of cutting to a shot of a speeding train entering a tunnel. Mastorakis would also have us believe that Kimberly's laserdisc movie library consists of two Nico Mastorakis films (THE WIND and GLITCH) and he also has a brief role for one-time Hitchcock muse Tippi Hedren as Kimberly's mother, complete with a shoehorned-in reference to THE BIRDS. The film gets points for its terrific B-movie supporting cast (Tweed is very charming here and you'll wish she had more screen time), but is severely deficient when it comes to the leads. Sachs (best known as the brunette hooker in the "Bitches leave!" scene in ROBOCOP) is gorgeously seductive, but she can't act, and Lester (whose most high-profile role prior to this was as one of Bo Svenson's deputies on the short-lived 1981 TV spinoff of WALKING TALL) is like a bland, blank Michael Dudikoff. Both would be out of the acting business within the next two years, though Lester embarked on a second career directing TV commercials and music videos, and has been married to Susan Anton since 1992. IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT isn't a great movie, but it's at least unusual for its type, and it was fun experiencing its rampant silliness again after all these years. Let's get some more of these things out on Blu-ray!
THE ZERO BOYS
(US - 1986) Directed by Nico Mastorakis. Written by Nico Mastorakis and Fred C. Perry. Cast: Daniel Hirsch, Kelli Maroney, Nicole Rio, Tom Shell, Jared Moses, Crystal Carson, Joe Phelan (Joe Estevez), Gary Jochimson, John Michaels, Elise Turner, T.K. Webb, Steve Shaw. (Unrated, 89 mins) If his Wikipedia page is to be believed, the life of Greek exploitation filmmaker Nico Mastorakis has been filled with many strange twists and turns that would make a hell of a movie. A journalist, media personality, and pop music impresario who counted the likes of Aristotle and Jackie Onassis and John Lennon among his close friends and helped establish the career of CHARIOTS OF FIRE theme composer Vangelis. Mastorakis parlayed his notoriety into becoming a star on television, hitting it big in 1972 with Greece's version of CANDID CAMERA. Deciding to enter the world of trash movies and becoming a Greek precursor to Uwe Boll, Mastorakis made his filmmaking debut in 1976 with the notorious, crudely-made, and frequently banned ISLAND OF DEATH, which is probably his best known work in cult movie circles. He quickly followed that with the same year's giallo-sounding Greek thriller DEATH HAS BLUE EYES before scoring his most high-profile gig, scripting an early draft of director J. Lee Thompson's 1978 Onassis biopic THE GREEK TYCOON, with Anthony Quinn and Jacqueline Bisset. Mastorakis only ended up with a "Story by" credit by the time it was released, but it was his first and thus far last brush with an A-list, major studio project. He instead opted to go the independent route, writing and producing the 1982 Greek horror film BLOOD TIDE, starring vacationing celebrities James Earl Jones and Jose Ferrer. 1984 saw the beginning of a furiously productive run for Mastorakis, who took full advantage of the product demand in the burgeoning home video industry by becoming a B-movie, DIY mini-mogul of sorts with his Omega Entertainment, writing, producing, and directing over a dozen genre titles over the next eight years, first in his native Greece and eventually, by 1987, he moved his base of operation to Los Angeles. 1984's Athens-shot suspense thriller BLIND DATE offered an early starring role for Kirstie Alley, and Mastorakis had enough cash flow to hire recognizable names who weren't exactly at the peak of their careers, like Joseph Bottoms (BLIND DATE), Keir Dullea (BLIND DATE and 1984's THE NEXT ONE, aka THE TIME TRAVELLER), Adrienne Barbeau (THE NEXT ONE), and David McCallum, Robert Morley, and Steve Railsback, all of whom appeared in Mastorakis' 1987 horror film THE WIND with perennial B-listers Meg Foster and Wings Hauser.
In 1986, Mastorakis directed his first American film, the survivalist-slasher movie THE ZERO BOYS, featuring a little part SOUTHERN COMFORT and RITUALS and a lot of FRIDAY THE 13TH. The story centers on a trio of paintball-fixated L.A. dudebros--Steve (Daniel Hirsch), Larry (Tom Shell), and Rip (Jared Moses)--who call themselves "The Zero Boys," even sporting a personalized license plate reading "ZEROBOYS" on their pickup truck. Besting his chief rival Casey (John Michaels) in their latest combat match-up, Steve's prize is a weekend with Casey's feisty, sexually-liberated psych-major girlfriend Jamie (Kelli Maroney, who had FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH and NIGHT OF THE COMET to her credit and was the closest thing to a "name" present), and along with Larry's and Rip's respective girlfriends Sue (Nicole Rio) and Trish (Crystal Carson), head to the woods on a camping trip before crashing at an abandoned Cabin in the Woods for games of both the weekend warrior and between-the-sheets variety. Those plans are derailed with the appearance of a trio of machete and crossbow-wielding psychos (led by Martin Sheen's brother Joe Estevez, though he's credited as "Joe Phelan") who have already disposed of a handful of victims and are eager to pick off these new intruders. Of course, The Zero Boys put their paintball, war-game skills to use in an attempt to survive the night.
THE ZERO BOYS is a bit of a slow-burner, sometimes too slow for its own good, and considering Mastorakis' skeezy past with ISLAND OF DEATH, it's pretty tame for an unrated '80s horror movie. Where THE ZERO BOYS works best is with the sudden appearances of the trio of killers, often shown silhouetted and surrounded by light behind them or pouring rain, dark figures with weapons ready for the kill. These shots involving the killers are the highlights of the film, pulled off in a vividly eerie fashion by cinematographer Steve Shaw, who probably picked up some of those skills during his time as an assistant cameraman on E.T.: THE EXTRA TERRESTRIAL. Like a less-talented Roger Corman, Mastorakis surrounded himself with veteran talent he could afford and younger talent he could mentor: the synthy and exceedingly 1986-style score was co-written by Stanley Myers (THE DEER HUNTER) and a young Hans Zimmer, who would eventually nab ten Oscar nominations to date (for films like RAIN MAN, GLADIATOR, and INTERSTELLAR), winning one for his work on the 1994 Disney classic THE LION KING. Also buried in the closing credits are a pair of names who would go on to much bigger things in the '90s: production coordinator Marianne Maddalena would later become Wes Craven's producing partner from 1989 to the end of his career, and credited as one of three assistant art directors is future SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and GREEN MILE director Frank Darabont, a year before his big break, landing a co-writing credit with Craven on 1987's A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3: DREAM WARRIORS.
Mastorakis kept going throughout the rest of the '80s with films like 1987's TERMINAL EXPOSURE (with John Vernon, Andy Sidaris regular Hope Marie Carlton, and THE LOVE BOAT's Ted Lange), 1988's NIGHTMARE AT NOON (with George Kennedy, Bo Hopkins, and Wings Hauser), the 1989 spoof NINJA ACADEMY, 1990's HIRED TO KILL (with Kennedy, Jose Ferrer, and Oliver Reed), and 1991's NC-17-rated erotic thriller IN THE COLD OF THE NIGHT (an all-star affair with the likes of Shannon Tweed, Marc Singer, David Soul, John Beck, and Tippi Hedren). Mastorakis' Hollywood career came to a temporary close with the 1992 comedy THE NAKED TRUTH, where he somehow managed to corral a once-in-a-lifetime cast that reads like the IT'S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD WORLD of early '90s straight-to-video: Tweed, Vernon, Lange, Erik Estrada, Lou Ferrigno, David Birney, Billy Barty, Alex Cord, Yvonne DeCarlo, Norman Fell, Bubba Smith, Herb Edelman, Camilla Sparv, M. Emmet Walsh, Dick Gautier, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and Little Richard. Mastorakis returned to Greece for the rest of the '90s, relaunching the Greek incarnation of CANDID CAMERA and some other TV shows before returning to Hollywood in a one-off attempt to recapture his '80s magic in the world of straight-to-DVD with the 2003 cyber-horror thriller .COM FOR MURDER. Sporting the dubious tag line "In cyberspace, no one can year you scream," the film was a blatant attempt at fooling video store customers into thinking it was the previous year's thoroughly forgettable FEAR DOT COM, and featured another typically inexplicable cast that included Nastassja Kinski, Roger Daltrey, Nicollette Sheridan, Melinda Clarke, Julie Strain, and Huey Lewis. .COM FOR MURDER is the final film to date for the now 75-year-old Mastorakis, who appears in an interview on the bonus features for Arrow's new extras-packed Blu-ray/DVD release of THE ZERO BOYS. The two-disc set also has interviews with Rio as well as Maroney, who went on to appear in a few Roger Corman productions (CHOPPING MALL, BIG BAD MAMA II) and is now a regular on the convention circuit thanks primarily to the ongoing cult following of NIGHT OF THE COMET, and Maroney also joins former Fangoria editor Chris Alexander for an audio commentary.
