Available on 4K UHD and Blu-ray

There is a subgenre of comedies that could never be made today. Blazing Saddles. Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Soul Man. A more recent entry into that subgenre, 2008’s Tropic Thunder, is Ben Stiller’s satire on Hollywood, its cast of characters, and what it takes to get a successful movie made. The stacked cast features Ben Stiller, Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Steve Coogan, Jay Baruchel, Danny McBride, Brandon T. Jackson, Bill Hader, Nick Nolte, Matthew McConaughey, and an unrecognizable Tom Cruise.

It is filled with tropes and dialects that are unacceptable in today’s society. On the contrary, it’s also very funny. Kino Lorber presents Tropic Thunder, for the first time, on 4K Ultra HD and also Blu-ray. 

While being a caricature of Hollywood types, Tropic Thunder focuses mainly on the making of a Vietnam war film, where the director (Coogan), under the advice of the story’s creator (Nolte), puts the stars of his behind-schedule movie in the middle of the jungle to film the movie guerilla style. The lead actor is an over-the-hill action star (Stiller), who bombed at the box office for playing an intellectually disabled man. He’s trying to compete with his award-winning Australian method actor co-star (Downey). He’s so methodical, that he had his skin altered and appears to play the role in blackface (as well as altering his dialect to talk jive). Rounding out the crew is a drug-addicted comedian (Black), a product-endorsing rapper (Jackson), and a straight guy (Baruchel) who actually knows what he’s doing. Even the film’s producer (Cruise) is anti-Semitic and written as a stereotypical character. Despite the lack of political correctness, the film is not short on humor. 

The 2-disc set includes a new 4K scan and restoration of the original Theatrical Cut with Dolby Vision HDR, as well as the Director’s Cut on Blu-ray. The new 4K transfer, supervised by Stiller himself, looks beautiful. With most of the movie taking place outside in the jungle, the scenery is green and lush. On the previous Blu-Ray release, there were many soft parts that almost looked blurry. By spreading the movie over a UHD100 disc, that compression issue is resolved. There’s a new DTS-HD 5.1 audio mix, as well as a lossless 2.0 one. With the various atmospheric sounds in the movie, the 5.1 mix plays well, although the bass could’ve used an uptick for the more explosive scenes.

All of the special features from the previously released Blu-ray have been ported over and are housed on the Director’s Cut disc. The packaging is clean and simple but typical of what we’ve come to expect from Kino Lorber. The slip sports new and different artwork from the case, which uses poster art. The discs have no artwork and are simply black with the disc titles and the KL logo. 

Tropic Thunder on 4K UHD is a highly recommended upgrade for previous owners of the previously available DVD or Blu-ray discs, as well as those who are looking to add this farcical comedy to their physical media collection. 

Available on 4K UHD, Blu-ray, DVD and Digital.

The Fast and The Furious film franchise has been around for the last twenty years. What began as an action film that focused on street racing and hijacking has expanded over the nine movies to a world of espionage and literally out-of-this-world situations.

Director/co-writer Justin Lin returns to the franchise for the latest installment, simply titled F9: The Fast Saga, now available on home media. In this one, Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) has to revisit his past as he and the team try to stop an international terrorist organization, led by a sinister assassin, his long forsaken brother, Jakob (John Cena).

The movie itself is the epitome of “how far can we push this?” And push they do, with high-octane action and practical stunts in places like Edinburgh, London, and beyond.  

The Good  

Universal is doing good on their home media releases; not holding back on their audio quality. This disc is no different. Whether you purchase the Blu-ray or the 4K release, the movie is delivered in immersive Dolby Atmos. For a film with lots of action, music, and dialogue, the sound is well balanced.

There was minimal overhead use, considering the number of helicopters, jets, and other things looming overhead. The surround speakers came alive at specific points but could have definitely been used more. That said, explosions registered (and there were plenty) at the sub and the other channels were well represented.  

The Bad  

The visuals of the movie were a nice mix of traditional European locations and exotics. This would be a great place to see the richness of black levels on the buildings and night scenes, but they just looked OK. For the 4K release, the HDR did little to add to colors popping in scenes shot in the jungle or the shiny exteriors of the sports cars.

Without this, there are minute differences between what you see in the Blu-ray and the 4K additions of the movie. Considering you’re getting the same sound options, this may be an excellent argument to save a few bucks and get the Blu-ray. 

The Family 

From the first film, the overall theme has been family. Reuniting (and sometimes resurrecting) old characters is a critical element in F9. This is best represented in the boatload of bonus features included. There are two film additions included: a theatrical cut and a director’s cut, which features about seven minutes of additional footage. Both versions feature a commentary with Lin.

Also included are a gag reel, a multi-part production supplement called F9: All In, A Day on the Set with Justin Lin feature, and others. In total, there are around 80 minutes of bonus features to explore all the aspects of the movie. If you’re an action fan or a fan of the franchise, you will enjoy adding this one to your collection.

Personally, I think the franchise hit a high point in the sequels with Fast Five, and from there, it has crossed into something that no longer resembles the original film’s content. But if you’re still enjoying the ride, there’s enough on these discs to continue you down the Fast and Furious road you have come to enjoy.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

Blu-ray out now on Arrow Video

Spending a week in Wisconsin is a delightful experience that I would gladly and gleefully recommend to anyone. Grab some beer from New Glarus or Capital Brewing, throw some cheese curds in the cooler, and head out to Devil’s Lake for some hiking or canoeing. It’s a surefire way to spend a few days as we head into summer.

However, I feel that recommending Weird Wisconsin, the new collection of director Bill Rebane‘s films from Arrow Video, definitely requires a bit of a disclaimer. Whereas any person with whom I’d like to spend time can find something in Wisconsin with which they can fall in love – brandy old fashioneds at a supper club after an afternoon at Amnicon Falls? YESPLZ. – the strange cinematic world of this Wisconsinite writer-director is not for everyone.

Do you like your exploitation films to have fast-moving action and plots? These are not for you. Do you like your actors to be well-versed in cinematic diction? These are not for you. Do you like your special effects to consist of big to-do moments? These are not for you. However, should you be in to what might best be described as laconic films, stocked with the finest community players, bolstered with the occasional Hollywood b-lister, and put together with special effects made with enthusiasm, if not high levels of skill, then you’re set.

By no means am I taking digs at the films of Bill Rebane. The six films in Weird Wisconsin, along with the documentary Who is Bill Rebane?, cover an intriguing swathe of genres: “a mutant astronaut bothering blissful sunbathers (Monster A Go-Go), a contagion apocalypse as seen from the vantage point of a remote mountain cabin (Invasion from Inner Earth), deadly alien spores from the rocks of Mars (The Alpha Incident), rural gothic and outright horror (The Demons of Ludlow), an eccentric ‘body count’ movie (The Game) and a comedy smash-’em up that pits three hillbilly stooges against a talking Monster Truck with artificial intelligence (Twister’s Revenge).”

While Rebane’s most famous picture, The Giant Spider Invasion, isn’t included here, the Alan Hale-starring creature feature has likely been seen many a time on Mystery Science Theater 3000 by anyone even remotely interested in this set, whereas all of these pictures are making their Blu-ray debuts. As is noted in the feature-length Who is Bill Rebane?, many of these films have only been available under other titles in bargain bin sets, and looked like they were sourced from well-loved and battered VHS tapes.

With the exception of maaaaaybe The Game and the back half of Twister’s Revenge, however, many of these films are definitely more exciting in summary and/or poster art than in reality, but they’re all really wonderful viewing experiences. They’re comforting in ways that movies you’ve seen time and time again are, perhaps because so many of these movies are Midwestern low-budget versions of films you have seen time and again.

The Demons of Ludlow is definitely The Fog, but in Wisconsin, in the winter. The Game is House on Haunted Hill, but at a Wisconsin resort, in the off-season. Invasion from Inner Earth and The Alpha Incident feel like public access versions of psychotronic monster movies like Phase IV, but in Wisconsin, and the latter featuring George “Buck” Flower. They’re all the more charming for wearing their influences, and honestly, Twister’s Revenge is the best Knight Rider knockoff to ever be created, and it also features a bazooka and a tank. I might not have ever been stuck to the edge of my seat while working my way through Weird Wisconsin, but I was certainly never bored.

Much like Culver’s menu features familiar burgers and fries, but makes them well and presents them to you with the friendliest of smiles and some tasty root beer, so does Bill Rebane craft his movies. Like that fast-food franchise, it’s the sort of thing you find yourself repeatedly returning to, brought in by the simple comforts of something done well. Not for nothing do several of the movies feature what seem like the band who likely played the local bar Rebane would go for drinks. Simple country and a western bar bands, who get to pop up in a party scene and do a number, then use that in their promo materials for the next five years: “As seen in The Demons of Ludlow!” It’s like you’re really getting to hang out in this tiny community, miles from anything resembling a city.

The bonus features, by the by, are stellar. In addition to Who is Bill Rebane?, which covers the director’s history in detail, and it’s augmented by historian and critic Stephen Thrower’s 60-page hardcover book, which goes into deeper dives on each of the films in the director’s oeuvre. Twist Craze and Dance Craze, two early short films by Rebane, are vividly-colored and fun as hell, while Kidnap Extortion (1973), a newly-restored industrial short from the director, is taut and intriguing in many ways. So much so, in fact, that a collection of Rebane’s industrial films sound like they’d actually be a lot of fun, especially the titles teased in “Rebane’s Key Largo,” a brand new visual essay by historian and critic Richard Harland Smith.

Throw in a six-part series, “Straight Shooter,” which sees the director himself going into details about the making of each film in the set, along with trailers, outtakes, and more, and you’ll find yourself with a week’s worth of fascinating material in which, hopefully, you’ll find as much lazy afternoon joy as I did. Snag yourself a peanut butter cup concrete, curl up the couch, and dig into this new batch of fun.

Available now on Blu-ray and DVD

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Down]

I hate when I see it coming. This is one of those times.

After a killer opening, The Virtuoso became one of those underwhelming movies where I figured out the ending way too soon. Heavily relying on his voiceover, a professional assassin (Anson Mount) takes a cryptic job in a countryside town after a distraction on a previous one went fatal. Assigned by his boss and mentor (Oscar® winner Anthony Hopkins), the job turns interesting as he encounters the town folk, including an alluring waitress (Abbie Cornish) and a mysterious local sheriff (David Morse). As his mission complicates, the question becomes figuring out “who is the target?”

Mount plays his character brazen enough to border on caricature without going over the edge. He is meticulous and brooding at times, yet kind enough to care for a stray dog. Hopkins is Hopkins in his scenes, which boils down to a monologue and a few calls. He plays his character cold and void of emotion, although you can tell there’s some fondness for The Assassin somewhere deep in him.

Despite the advertising, this is not Hopkins’ movie. His face and name will be used to sell it but his character is supporting if anything. Cornish plays her part with inviting warmth and plays off Mount’s assassin very well.

At an almost two-hour runtime, this movie suffers from too much dialogue and not enough action. For a thriller noir about someone who kills people for a living, I expected the work of an assassin to be shown more. As weird as it sounds, with the heavy use of voiceover, there were points where the heavy dialogue script played like a video game. I started feeling like I was in a role-playing game with a monotonous guide reading my thoughts. But this was writer James C. Wolf’s attempt at giving us the inner voice of our hitman.

Director/Producer Nick Stagliano has a great concept for a story but the execution is limited, dull, and with Hopkins in the cast, a bit exploitative.

Currently available on Digital and Blu-ray.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

This year’s Oscars brought no big surprise as Nomadland brought home three Academy Awards, including the prestigious Best Picture award. Director Chloé Zhao won for Best Director, and Frances McDormand won Best Actress for her portrayal of Fern, a grieving woman who decides to live out of her van as a nomad after losing her husband and the town she used to call home. What follows is a humanistic tale of her encounters with modern pioneers, living an alternative life in a country where the Great Recession has left behind.

Zhao’s ingenious use of professional actors and non-actors is one of the great things about this film. You will meet characters like Linda May and the lovable Swankie who actually lead these nomadic lives. Their authenticity shines through every time they’re on the screen. In their scenes with McDormand (now a three-time Oscar winner), she is so believable in the role that hers does as well.

The true star here is the cinematography. Working closely with Zhao, director of photography, Joshua James Richards captures the Americana of the deserts of the Western United States. There are many sunset scenes (technically coined as “the magic hour”) that lead to some of the most beautiful locations in the film. On the Blu-ray, the colors are rich and deep tones of the colors spectrum to the point that it becomes a character in itself. Fern is shown looking pensively into the horizon many times, and that where the scenery shows off. In one scene early in the movie, Fern is scene walking the campsite. The camera tracks her as the sun sets in the background. It’s a great scene, showing her welcoming her new life.

On the whole, the Blu-ray is relatively bare-bones, with no slipcover and just three unique features. “The Forgotten America” is a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the movie, plus a glimpse into the nomadic culture with the author of the original book, Jessica Bruder. There was a drive-in premiere of the film at the Telluride Film Festival. The feature, “Telluride Q & A with Frances McDormand and Chloé Zhao,” covers about 15 minutes of that event. There are also “Deleted Scenes.” This disc would’ve benefitted from a commentary from Zhao and Richards to hear their process in shooting and editing the film. Hopefully, with the big wins this award season, another more robust release is possible in the future.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

Out April 20 via VOD, digital HD, DVD, and Blu-ray.

Written and directed by Ryan Spindell, the new horror anthology The Mortuary Collection stars Clancy Brown and Caitlin Custer in a collection of four tales of ever-expanding terror, surrounded by a frame story which weaves in and out of the installments themselves.

“Set in the phantasmagorical town of Raven’s End, nothing is as it seems…. In The Mortuary Collection, a misguided young girl takes refuge in a decrepit old mortuary. There she meets Montgomery Dark, an eccentric undertaker with more than a few skeletons in his closet. Montgomery chronicles the strange history of the town through a series of twisted tales, each more terrifying than the last, but the young girl’s world is unhinged when she discovers that the final story…is her own.”

The trek to get The Mortuary Collection made took five years, beginning with the last installment, “The Babysitter Murders,” which was originally crafted as a standalone, proof-of-concept short film in 2015. Thanks to the tireless efforts of Spindell and his crew of creators, the ensuing anthology was shot in Astoria, Washington and initially released as part of Fantastic Fest’s 2019 lineup. After a series of other festivals appearances, the movie now makes its way to VOD, digital HD, DVD, and Blu-ray courtesy of Shudder and RLJE Films.

Maybe it’s a little on-the-nose to have Custer’s Sam comment on the first tale as being a little underwhelming and Brown’s Dark respond by explaining that he’s just getting warmed up, but The Mortuary Collection starts off by walking, if not strolling, to be sure. We’re introduced to our main characters in the wraparound, which manages to homage Angus Scrimm’s Tall Man from Phantasm both in Dark’s appearance and the funeral home setting in one fell swoop, before heading into the first, quite-brief tale of a woman at a party who comes to an abrupt end. It’s clever, it’s fine, and it doesn’t overstay its tentacle-y welcome.

However, as The Mortuary Collection winds its way through the next two tales, “Unprotected” and “Till Death,” one wonders is Spindell might have overreached. The pair of stories manage to be both too short to really pack a punch, while also somewhat overlong. Both of them of elements of superb production design and practical effects – each being delightfully splattery in their execution – but the pacing repeatedly lurches back-and-forth between moving overly fast to dwelling on certain images, and neither feels satisfying, although the sheer messy audacity of “Unprotected” lends it enough charm with which to coast by.

“The Babysitter Murders,” though, is another matter entirely. One can see why Spindell and crew chose to use this piece as the one to which they staked to production of The Mortuary Collection: it’s tight, it’s focused, it twists and turns in unexpected ways, and looks amazing. It’s the perfect anthology segment, in that it fits into the framing wraparound superbly, while also standing as a fantastic short in its own right.

As a low-budget anthology, however, The Mortuary Collection succeeds more than it fails. While the pacing might not work all the time, the film clips by briskly and the performances are all head and shoulders above the usual unevenness of most collections such as this. Also, given the fact that many horror anthologies these days choose to use multiple directors, having this be Spindell’s vision from start to finish allows for a level of cohesiveness that really hasn’t been seen since Mike Dougherty’s Trick ‘r Treat in 2007.

The Blu-ray release of The Mortuary Collection has an astounding number of behind-the-scenes and making of featurettes, all of which go into great detail on every aspect of the production, be it costumes, special effects, design, or what have you. It really lets the viewer see just what tricks were required to bring Spindell’s film to life, and the sheer cleverness on display in these bonus features will really bring a new level of respect to what takes place on screen. To be quite honest, The Mortuary Collection looks like a major studio release, not the independent production which it truly is, and it’s all the more impressive for it.

Worth noting, though, is the fact that there’s no “play all” possibility for watching these bonus features, so be prepared to spend quite a while selecting each one and pressing play on them individually. It’s a minor annoyance, but still vaguely irritating as an oversight. That said, the deleted scenes provided some interesting context for the film’s original focus – replete with two characters who were removed entirely from the wraparound – and Spindell’s stories and commentary regarding the film make for an impressively robust glimpse at creating an independent, original, horror anthology.

The Mortuary Collection is available onVOD, digital HD, DVD, and Blu-ray courtesy of Shudder and RLJE Films beginning Tuesday, April 20.

[Rating: Solid Rock Fist Up]

Coming to DVD, Blu-ray and VOD March 9, 2021.

Adaptions of ancient Greek theatre are nothing new in the world of cinema, but writer and director Sophie Deraspe innovates classical storytelling by merging the tragedy of Antigone through a modern social media lens.

Rooted more as a social drama rather than an identical adaptation, Deraspe’s Antigone finds success in its use of realism with cleverly crafted homages and tributes to Greek theater. As the traditional chorus is framed as a call to action by thousands online, Antigone explores themes of tragedy and the power of idealism to bring about social change. Capped with outstanding performances from the small French-speaking cast and a creative narrative structure full of eye-candy editing, Antigone proves to be the strongest Canadian contender for this year’s awards season.

Nahema Ricci stars as Antigone, a modest young woman from a close-knit Allergan family who fled to Montreal after the death of her parents. The stage is set early for the family’s strong bond with one another in the midst of their financial struggles. The household’s primary income stems from Antigone’s brother Polynice (Rawad El-Zein) and his local gang affiliation. After Polynice gets arrested and faces the threat of deportation, Antigone risks her future in helping Polynice escape from imprisonment. Faced heavily with internal struggles of personal responsibility and overcoming fate, audiences are left with Antigone during the most vulnerable and fearful moments of her young life. 

Deraspe brilliantly threads the needle of finding a balance between adapting 2,000-year-old literature alongside a genuinely modern social drama. Finding moments to bring about the fantasy from Sophocles’ writings, Deraspe stays true to the original work while establishing the accident themes of grief and self-sacrifice in a modern setting. This balance is weaved through a hybrid rulebreaking narrative full of flashbacks, seemingly unrelated cutaway montages, and unsettling dream sequences. Antigone never loses its power as an insightful social drama, as it constantly keeps its messaging at the forefront of the work. The correlations to the past is enjoyable, but the film’s greatest strength is the harsh contemporary story it tells.

Antigone’s themes of self-sacrifice and perseverance speak to the unequal system of justice in Canada’s immigration program. The film critiques the policing of minority communities and the obstacles that refugees face. These issues are seen through the eyes of Antigone and her family, as Deraspe’s direction establishes a personal connection between the audience and the characters. Little backstory is needed as Deraspe introduces her characters and relationships through tender moments of love for each other. Dancing scenes that start the film, create a personal build that simple explanations could not do justice. As one is lead to feel sympathy for the tragedies Antigone bears and the sacrifices she makes, Deraspe hooks audiences early on to signify motives that audiences can strongly relate to. 

Traditionally, escape films are embedded in drama to lead to the grandiose moment of release and victory. The narrative structure of escape films is almost universally that of a trial and error build that leads to an explosive climax where an individual finds their freedom. Antigone twists these conventions by changing up the escape film narrative formula and having the big escape take place near the end of the first act.

As in life, there is no black and white line between freedom and confinement. Though a character might be “free” they are never truly free from the social complications of their life as an immigrant. Deraspe brings this about, in having the drama of the film’s escape take a backseat to the drama brought about through the social realistic approach. Brave faces and genius maneuvers are replaced with a fearful tone and a hail-mary attempt with drastic consequences, regardless of the outcome. As the film generates its strength in these crucial scenes, it transitions into the second half where the raised issues are on display in full effect.

Though admirable throughout, Antigone is not without its flaws. The film’s sporadic nature helps energize the narrative structure of an adaption but never grounds itself enough for all of its messages and scenes to hit as intended. Not mosaic enough to forget about the story and character-driven dialogue, there are times the lack of a build makes scenes feel pointless as it moves from one to the next. The central story occasionally gets buried in filler seemingly without a point.

Ricci gives an unorthodox yet star-making performance in Antigone. The evolution of her character is the guiding force of the film and Ricci captures it close to perfection. Beginning in a minimal style, where silent shots of facial expressions convey the comfort and pain of Antigone, Ricci brilliantly portrays the journey into mental angst that self-sacrifice into loneliness can bring about. Antigone is always likable due to Ricci’s performance and the moments of emotional breakdown are always earned as Ricci never fails to deliver soul-crushing drama while maintaining the film’s realism.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

On DVD and Blu-ray now from RLJE Films

The latest film from Adam Egypt Mortimer, Archenemy (out February 16 on DVD and Blu-ray from RLJE Films), sees the writer/director once again applying his independent lens to a new genre. As Some Kind of Hate redefined the slasher genre and Daniel Isn’t Real twisted the imaginary friend trope into something new and weird, so does his latest tackle the superhero.

“In Archenemy, Max Fist (Joe Manganiello) is a local drunk who claims to be a superhero from the planet Chromium. He tells anyone who will listen that he was pulled into a wormhole, falling through time and space, and dropped to earth without any of his powers. No one pays any attention to Max except a teenager named Hamster (Skylan Brooks) who can’t get enough of Max’s stories. When Hamster and his sister (Zolee Griggs) get in trouble with a vicious drug syndicate led by The Manager (Glenn Howerton), Max takes to the streets as a brutal vigilante hellbent on proving himself as the hero no one believes him to be.”

From the moment Adam Egypt Mortimer brought viewers Some Kind of Hate in 2015, he was obviously a director with an eye toward creating something new from old tropes. Unsatisfied with the usual slasher elements, his creation of a villain/antihero in that film’s Moira (Sierra McCormick) gave us a movie which – while a little rough around the edges – showed that Mortimer was a creator to watch.

2019’s Daniel Isn’t Real saw Mortimer come into his own, with a vision that was psychedelic in its weirdness, while ably twisting the whole Fight Club concept of an imaginary friend into new and intriguing shapes. With Archenemy, the writer/director has left the horror genre and crafted a superhero film free of the usual ties to already-extant properties.

As Max Fist, Joe Manganiello basically owns Archenemy. He manages to bring gravitas to the role, and leaves just enough questioning glances in his portrayal of the dimensionally-adrift character to leave it hanging for the better part of the film as to whether or not he’s just a schizophrenic or actually who he believes himself to be. The fact that Max isn’t always quite sure – conveyed through looks and posture, rather than his always-confident storytelling – makes the film intriguing, and keeps the viewer guessing throughout.

The rest of the cast is capable. Skylan Brooks’ Hamster is maybe a little more naive than one would expect from a young adult with a sister, Indigo (Zolee Griggs), who sells drugs for Howerton’s Manager. Griggs is ably confident and strong, with the clearest vision of any of Archenemy‘s characters – save for Amy Seimetz‘s character, who doesn’t appear until late in the film. Not for nothing are the two most open-eyed and realistic characters women, surrounded by men whose thoughts are dreamy, pie-in-the-sky fantasies.

The film’s animated segments are a clever way of allowing the film to show what the world might have looked like on Chromium, as well as Max Fist’s existence there, while working more strongly in the realm of fantasy than a effects-laden sequences might have. They look like a cheap comic book, but that seems to be more intention than unfortunate happenstance, reflecting the possible unreality of the whole situation.

Archenemy is also buoyed by a score from Umberto, whose work in the realm of horror-inspired electronic music makes him a left-field choice for such a film with such an action-oriented second half. The music has such a vibrancy and upbeat nature at times that’s quite different from what he’s been making for the last decade. However, given the fact that Umberto’s work has always worked with a certain groove to it, the pairing of his darker influences with a certain motorik and kosmische rhythm makes for a score which heightens the tension admirably.

Thanks to an ending which ties everything together nicely and explicitly acknowledges what’s happened – as well as mirroring Daniel Isn’t Real in an interesting way that fans of both films will readily spot – Archenemy is a solid third outing from Adam Egypt Mortimer and a welcome new swerve on the superhero genre.

The bonus features on the DVD are limited to a brief “The Making of Archenemy” featurette. It offers up a little bit about the making of the film, and what attracted the various players to the film, but it almost leaves more questions than it answers.

Adam Egypt Mortimer’s Archenemy is out now on DVD and Blu-ray from RLJE Films.

[Rating: Solid Rock Fist Up]

Out from RLJE Films December 15 on DVD and Blu-ray.

Written and directed by stand-up comedian Steve Byrne in his feature debut, The Opening Act is a feature film which took some reflection to find the heart within. While the on and offstage bombing of protagonist Will Chu (Jimmy O. Yang) might have originally had me visibly cringing during my viewing of the film, after taking a night to think on how The Opening Act has heart and strength beneath its surface.

“In THE OPENING ACT, Will Chu is stuck in a thankless job while trying to pursue his true passion in life, becoming a stand-up comedian. When he gets the opportunity he’s been waiting for, the emcee slot on the road opening for his hero Billy G., the realities of life on the stage come crashing in. Between relentless hecklers, drunk comedy groupies and hard-to-impress morning radio DJs, things get off to a rough start. Even if he can learn from his idols and overcome the challenges, he’ll have to prove he has what it takes to make his dream a reality.”

Immediately after watching Byrne’s film, I was iffy as to my opinion on The Opening Act. Awkward humor is such not my thing, the aspects of watching Yang as Will just absolutely eat it so many times – both onstage as comedian, and in personal interactions with his fellow comics – had me curled up on the couch in near-agony. Any film or show which purports to take you somewhere for palpable discomfort in social situations, like Booksmart or Pen15, just leave me so anxious for the characters that I can’t get into them, and that’s exactly what I felt during The Opening Act.

It’s not that the acting is bad. Everyone in this film is pretty solid. Even Alex Moffat‘s douchey hybrid of Anthony Jeselnik and Dane Cook is charming enough that his regular hookups and many friendships make sense. Everyone, that is, with the exception of Yang, who is the protagonist. He’s flat. His journey is arguably the crux of the movie, and he’s so basic everyman that there’s nothing on which to grasp. Granted, yes, it gives him a serious amount of redemption at the end, but otherwise, there’s no there, there.

He’s just a cardboard cutout with so few connections to anyone other than his equally paper-thin girlfriend, Jen (Debby Ryan) that you have no idea why he’s pursuing this so strongly, other than a silent montage which opens Byrne’s film, presenting it as this thing which Will shared with his now-deceased father.

What’s funny is that Yang’s standup is good, but we don’t know him well enough to see it in context. It’s like he exists in a bubble or something. But, yeah: even Bill Burr works as a shitty boss. It’s fun, the standup is way solid, but watching The Opening Act is almost as much a struggle as Yang’s hero’s tale. The payoff’s worth it in the end, but just barely.

That’s what I thought after finishing it. Then I slept on it, came back, and watched the bonus features on the bonus features on the forthcoming RLJE Films Blu-ray. “The Making of The Opening Act,” “Getting Started in Comedy,” and the extended stand-up scenes all provided this alternate perspective which I hadn’t considered, and that’s the fact that there are all of these professionals around protagonist Will who, despite being messes themselves, have constructed their life around stand-up and see it not just as this desire to perform, but as a business and a way of life.

As Billy G, Cedric the Entertainer has a gravitas and realistic view of this business and what it means to him, and it doesn’t come across as forced. You can tell that both the character and the comedian portraying him has a lot at stake in this, and he’s learned a lot the hard way – and really, that’s the meat of Byrne’s film. The concept that dying onstage is just part of the learning curve and how you get better is oddly relatable to anyone who’s ever spent time in aspect of the arts. When you do something – writing something, doing a radio show, or getting up onstage to perform – you don’t quit the instant you have one bad experience.

Fuck, that’s not how it works at any other thing you’d want to do for a living. You think any carpenter just threw in the towel and went to work at a gas station because they mis-measured and cut up a stack of 2x4s an eighth of an inch too short for the shelves they were building? No, they went back to the lumber yard, ate that expense, and measured twice before cutting the next time. You take your lumps, learn from them, and use that to better yourself.

And The Opening Act is funny. The stand-up sets are solid, with a crew of folks any comedy nerd would be excited to see do material – Ken Jeong, Whitney Cummings, Moshe Kasher – and the comedians as actors are solid, as well. Tom Segura kills in a cameo as a cop, and Russell Peters excels as Randy, a morning drive-time DJ of whom Will makes an enemy. There’s a scene with a woman named Sophie (Courtney Pauroso) that excedes The Hangover in terms of just how out-there and absurd it gets, and that scene – where Will is such a fish-out-of-water nice guy, fully out of his element and comfort zone – is really the key to the movie.

I kept coming back to that set of events in my mind, realizing that this the thing about Byrne’s script that I just didn’t grasp, initially: Will Chu is funny and has drive, but there’s always this sense of fear which holds him back from doing anything without first checking to make sure things are okay. After his initial decision to quit his job as an insurance adjuster to take the chance of emceeing at the Improv, he’s constantly trying way too hard to assure that everything works out, just awkward with fear that his first shot will be his last, as opposed to appreciating the fact that he got the chance at all.

There’s a lot to take from Steve Byrne’s The Opening Act, but that’s the main takeaway: if you’re willing to take a chance, enjoy it while it lasts, rather than worrying about what happens if it doesn’t go exactly as planned. When you do, you’ll see the opportunity as the gift that it is.

Reissue company Mondo Macabro‘s latest double-feature Blu-ray has two films from French director Jean Louis Van Belle. While 1971’s The Lady Kills and 1972’s Pervertissima are somewhat connected, having been released successively, and sharing a few settings and actors, the viewer’s enjoyment of each may be a little different.

“The Lady Kills tells the story of Françoise Frémond, who travels across Europe on an apparently random killing spree, bumping off a series of increasingly odious men. From Swinging London to the eternal city of Rome, she leaves a trail of dead bodies and the question: why? A mystery film as only Jean Louis Van Belle could make it, The Lady Kills is a blast from start to finish with an amazing soundtrack of gloriously groovy psych-rock.”

For all of that build-up, The Lady Kills is basically a French I Spit On Your Grave, but more fun and less gory, if that makes any sense. At the age of 10, Françoise Frémond (Carole Lebel) witnesses the rape of her sister by five men. 10 years later, she tracks them down, one by one, and gets her revenge. Calling this “a blast from start to finish” is a little off-putting, given that the movie does start with a rape scene, but for the most part, this is a really solid revenge flick.

We’re introduced to each man, then Françoise finds them, seduces them, and kills them. It’s very simple, and the entire point of the film is to show an awful lot of naked women, and then watch some sleazy men get taken out in a series of creative and intriguing ways. The first is arguably the best, as  Françoise leaves a time bomb hidden in the office of Le Club Sexy, and tells the owner that she’ll call at a specific time. You don’t get to see anything, but hearing the man rant and rave to her over the phone before suddenly being cut off by the sound of an explosion is remarkably satisfying after watching him lech on her and berate his dancers.

“Pervertissima is a bizarre – and possible unique – combination of mondo movie and mad scientist flick. A beautiful woman is hired by a scandal sheet editor to research and write a report on “Love in Paris”. Her quest takes her from a lesbian sauna to a secretive club of masked swingers, via stints as a street walker in a seedy Paris back alley and a strip-tease artist in an upmarket cabaret. Her final outing leads to the clinic of the dangerous Dr Vilard, who aims to create sex robots out of human flesh, and mate them to create a race of superhumans to take over the world!”

Despite The Lady Kills‘ summary making a big deal about the soundtrack, the Guy Bonnet score for Pervertissima is arguably the better of the two. Some it may be due to the fact that the second half of this French double-feature leans a little harder on visuals and score to create a mood than any real semblance of a plot. While the end of the film does deliver some form of storyline, as Françoise (Maelle Pertuzo) infiltrates the secret laboratory of Dr. Vilard (Albert Simono), the vast majority of the film is just Françoise traveling around Paris, getting into sexy fun times.

It’s a mondo movie, basically, but for all the salacious looking in on things – a masked orgy straight out of Eyes Wide Shut, an all-woman sauna – it’s arguably more tame than most actual mondo films. The time spent in each location is pretty minimal, with far more time given over to the new journalist spending time in the office with her lecherous editor. Seriously: that dude is the walking epitome of “leering,” and it’s off-putting. Every single dude in both of these films will leave you needing a long shower.

The Lady Kills, thanks to its plot – thin as it is – is a little more satisfying a viewing than  Pervertissima, but both films viewed together make for an overarching experience that is, arguably, grander than the sum of the two viewed seperately. Imagery and themes from each are explored in the other, as well as sharing actors and a Paris setting. While The Lady Kills trots around Europe as Françoise seeks her revenge, Paris is the film’s home base.

It is rather interesting that the dancers from Le Club Sexy make another appearance at the beginning of  Pervertissima, and the title itself is a name given to Françoise by the owner of Le Club Sexy when she auditions there. A photo of Carole Lebel pops up in the offices of the scandal sheet, as well, giving the impression that these two films are of a pair beyond just being collected on this particular Blu-ray.

The bonus feature documentary, “Who is Jean Louis Van Belle?” does a lot of heavy lifting to explain Van Belle’s creative process. He appears at a celebration of his films at the Cinémathèque Française, and for the vast majority of its 30 minutes, we never see his face. He’s cut off at the neck, reading from a prepared piece, and just generally trying to say that he’s maybe not as special as he’s being made out to be.

“I am my stories, and those to whom I’ve told them,” Van Belle says toward the end, which might be the most succinctly beautiful description of filmmaking I’ve ever heard. One of the hosts of the screening describes his films as both collages and folk art, and that’s definitely something which can be seen in this double-feature. They’re cinema, not movies, and the point isn’t to be entertained, but to have an experience. It’s certainly one worth having.

The Lady Kills/Pervertissima double feature Blu-ray is available now from MondoMacabro.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

Director John Strysik‘s 1995 feature The Spirit Gallery is a hallucinatory shot-on-video oddity which manages to take a familiar plot and turn it into something special. While it certainly has a made-for-TV vibe to it, the sheer weirdness of how the story unfolds is what makes this film worth checking out.

“Gwendolyn Creed was a God-fearing woman until she met B.A. Catch and his fantastic abilities. A legendary and reclusive artist, Catch could manifest ectoplasm from the palms of his hands – and steal your soul in the process. Sculpting faces out of soul-matter, Catch opens doorways into alternate dimensions where pain and pleasure combine. People are beaten, stabbed and crucified. The body is altered, the skin diseased and in need of new host to survive – but can love win out?”

In the commentary track on this DVD release from SOV Horror, director Strysik explains that what he wanted to go for in The Spirit Gallery is something akin to The Picture of Dorian Gray in reverse. In that Oscar Wilde novel, the protagonist has a portrait of himself which, thanks to selling his soul, ages and features his many sins, while he remains young and unblemished. In this film, the bodies of those from whom artist Catch (Jim Burkhart) makes masks bear the brunt of the fantastic abuses of the mask’s owner.

Essentially, gallery owner Gideon Haul (Leonard Parnell) owns one of Catch’s masks, and in a fantasy world, is beaten, stabbed, and horribly attacked, but the mask heals all his wounds. Unfortunately for him, the mask’s powers are waning, and thus, he must find a new pure person from whom to have Catch make a mask. That’s Creed (Holly Riddle Zuniga), who is obsessed with Catch’s artwork and becomes Haul’s new secretary in order to get closer to the reclusive artist.

From there, faith is tested, bodies are mutilated, and a series of sticky, creepy interactions culminates in a Society-esque finale. It’s a lot to take in, and while not all of the cast is quite up to taking it on, the portrayal of art as transgressive and dangerous makes for a fascinating watch. Parnell as Haul is a little wooden, which is unfortunate, as his character should be alternately charming and creepy, the better to lure in Zuniga’s Creed and take her innocence. It’s only Zuniga’s performance as Creed which lets the viewer believe that she’s naively obsessed enough to the point of being trapped.

Thanks to the lensing by cinematographer Sue Colbern, The Spirit Gallery looks far better than it’s acted. Courtesy of some guerrilla filming in and around San Francisco, the film’s production value skyrockets, thanks to on-location shots in prominent places, rather than the entirety being shot in someone’s backyard. The factory where artist Catch makes his home is fantastic, and positively looms over the proceedings of every scene which take place within its confines.

According to Strysik’s commentary, it’s thanks to the particular camera used that the darker scenes look so good. I’ve seen a number of SOV horror films where the dark scenes are nearly imperceptible, but every one of The Spirit Gallery‘s nighttime or darkened interior scenes looks creepy, not cheap. It does have the negative effect of making every well-lit or daytime shot quite obviously shot on video, but it’s never blown out, just a little more bright or flattened than one might want, in a very sitcom kind of way.

It’s really a fun film, and it absolutely breezes by. At no point does the film lag. I’m usually loathe to watch a movie twice in a row, but thanks to the fascinating visuals – especially once Creed meets Catch, and even in the earlier scenes of Haul getting his kicks being stabbed and attacked by masked assailants – The Spirit Gallery makes for an entrancing watch. Director Strysik’s commentary isn’t always 100% related to what’s happening on-screen, and takes rather more of an overall behind the scenes tack, but it’s informative and explains some of what we’re seeing take place.

In terms of extras on SOV Horror’s DVD release of The Spirit Gallery, in addition to Strysik’s commentary, there’s a trailer for the film itself, as well as other SOV Horror releases, a reproduction of a magazine article seen in the film, behind the scenes stills, and an early short film by Strysik entitled Young People in Trouble, which feels like John Waters took on a Centron film.

If you’re looking for something to scratch that Full Moon Features itch, but with a stronger sense of vision – not for nothing did Strysik write a couple of Stuart Gordon features – The Spirit Gallery should fill the need. It might not be perfect, but it’s unique in its vision and delivery.

[Rating: Solid Rock Fist Up]

For the last few years, reissue company Mondo Macabro has dipped heavily into European explitation cinema, releasing the likes of Bloodlust, a Greek double feature of The Wild Pussycat and The Deserter, The Devil’s Nightmare, and Lucio Fulci’s Perversion Story, among others. While the psycho-sexual discomfort of these films has been well-served by Mondo Macabro’s Blu-rays, packed with bonus content and brand-new HD transfers, fans who’ve long appreciated the company’s ability to bring Asian films such as Snake Sisters, Queen of Black Magic, and Mystics in Bali have been underserved.

That all changed with what might be the most phantasmagorical release I’ve seen in years, South Korean director Kim Ki-young’s 1978 film, Woman Chasing the Butterfly of Death.

“After a young man survives being poisoned by a girl at a picnic he falls into a deep, suicidal depression. But standing in the way of his desire to kill himself is a Nietzschean bookseller who refuses to die even though he’s killed several times, an ancient mummy who is revived in the form of a beautiful woman who happens to be a cannibal, and an insane anthropologist who wants to keep his daughter alive by getting her laid. And also, of course, butterflies.”

As the copy on the back of the Blu-ray says, the movie is “[a]lmost impossible to summarize” but “nevertheless insanely enjoyable. A real one-of-a-kind production that opens our eyes to the limitless possibilities of cinema.” That above plot summary doesn’t even begin to explain just how mad Kim’s film really is. Watching it unfold onscreen is as close as I’ve gotten to true insanity in a long while, but it’s not like the director just threw things at the screen to see what would stick.

The plot progresses forward with some kind of logic, but it’s the sort of logic which makes perfect sense as you’re watching the film, but utterly falls apart when attempting to describe it to anyone else. It definitely is a sort of waking dream, wherein that Nietzschean bookseller keeps getting killed by the film’s protagonist, Young-gul (Kim Jeong-cheol), only to repeatedly come back to life, even after being burned. The bookseller’s skeleton shouts to the student that he can live through sheer will alone: “The will to live is sacred. When will you realize this?”

This is after he’s already survived a forced suicide pact when he accepts a drink from a young woman he encounters while taking a stroll during a beachfront picnic. She’d spiked the drink given to the young man, because there was a suicide pact, but her partner never showed up, and she didn’t want to die alone.

It’s an absolutely fascinating story, and the idea of will and mortality winds its way through the entirety of the film. So much of what happens seems to be by predestination, yet the choices made over and over by Young-gul echo back to the prophetic statements made by the bookseller at the beginning of the film. After coming to work for archeologist Professor Lee (Nam Koong Won), Young-gul meets the professor’s daughter, Kyungmi (Kim Ja-ok), only to discover that she’s the missing partner from that suicide pact.

Kyungmi’s persistence at attempting to get him to recreate that pact, as well as repeated attempts by nearly everyone he meets to get Young-gul to do what they say – usually at the possible cost of his life – see this young man, who is absolutely distraught and depressed throughout the film’s first half, slowly achieve his own personal willpower. It’s hallucinatory, yes, but strangely empowering.

Woman Chasing the Butterfly of Death (also known as A Woman Chasing a Killer Butterfly and Killer Butterfly) has never been released on Blu-ray before, and its debut on the format is arguably the best it’ll ever be. The 4K transfer is astonishingly vibrant, with the psychedelic well-represented, while still managing to look pretty good during a scene set deep within a cave. The various interviews with the producer, cinematographer, and one of the film’s actresses, all tread similar ground, and get a little tiresome, but combined with historian Darcy Paquet’s featurette, “Eleven Questions for Darcy Paquet,” presents as complete a biography of director Kim Ki-young as you’re likely to find in the West.

While every Mondo Macabro release is worth a peek, this marks the first release from the company since 2018’s Who Can Kill a Child? to really earn the “must-own” status.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

The latest film from director Joe Begos, Bliss (out this week on Blu-ray and DVD from Dark Sky Films) continues the refinement of the ideas which the filmmaker began exploring with 2013’s Almost Human and continued in 2015’s The Mind’s Eye. Much as those movies were the director’s modern updates of Fire in the Sky and Scanners, respectively, Bliss sees Begos trying his hand at the vampire mythos:

“Known for her dark and macabre artwork, painter Dezzy Donahue (Dora Madison) is in a professional rut. Unable to finish her newest commissioned work, Dezzy looks to reignite her creative juices by letting loose-as in, taking every drug in sight and tearing through raucous house parties and heavy metal bars. After a few nights spent with her debauchery-loving friends Courtney (Tru Collins) and Ronnie (Rhys Wakefield), though, Dezzy notices changes within herself. On the positive side, she’s finally painting again, but she’s also developing a strange desire for blood. As someone who has never been able to control her vices in the first place, Dezzy is quickly and violently consumed by this bloodlust.”

Other recent updates to the vampire genre, such as A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night and Only Lovers Left Alive, have attempted to return the story of bloodsuckers to the moody and genteel roots of the Universal Pictures archetype, operating in black and white or with a sense of class, the characters grown tired by centuries of the same thing over and over. Bliss, however, sees Begos digging into the punk rock, new-blood vampires of Kathryn Bigelow’s Near Dark.

While the scope of Begos’ picture might not expand to the grand Western vistas of Bigelow’s film, the cityscape surroundings of Los Angeles itself add a lot of production value to the film, which otherwise takes place in a series of small rooms – rock clubs, art galleries, studio apartments, and the bathrooms of these various locales – lending the indoor scenes an intense sense of closeness and pressing in upon of the viewer. Only during the times when Dezzy is driving her car (a convertible, naturally) is there any time where it doesn’t feel as if the characters and the film aren’t right there, in your face.

The environs and characters of the film have a sense of familiarity to them, which might be due to the fact that there’s a subsection of Horror Film Twitter that’s well-represented. It goes from the use of Begos regulars like Graham Skipper as drug dealer Hadrian and Josh Ethier as Bobby, along with an-all-too-brief appearance from Jesse Merlen, who appeared opposite Skipper in Beyond the Gates. Abraham Benrubi and George Wendt also have small roles, making Bliss a veritable who’s who of character actors both contemporary and classic.

Add in the fact that, according to Begos and Madison in their commentary track, all of Dezzy’s t-shirts were pulled straight from the director’s closet, allowing genre-related companies such as Death Waltz Recording Co. and Holy Mountain Printing to get a bit of screen time, as well, and the film could’ve been a series of “hey, isn’t that …?” experiences.

Happily, thanks to a tight 80-minute run time, and crack direction by Begos, every scene feels as if it’s absolutely necessary. The scenes of Dezzy creating her art slowly reveal something at the heart of her, with each blackout ending with a painting more and more complete. The crazed, possessed artist with a fondness for metal draws comparisons with The Devil’s Candy, but Madison’s Dezzy hungers for more than one good break, unlike Ethan Embry’s Jesse in the 2015 Sean Byrne film. Also, using the likes of the psychedelic metal band Electric Wizard and post-metal act Isis brings the trippy, off-kilter drug use of the film into high (pun intended) focus.

Sadly, talking too much about the other main characters reveals more of the plot, and would denigrate the first-time viewing experience. The general idea that it’s a vampire movie by way of a bad trip doesn’t give anything away, but letting the film roll out in front of you without a clue as to what exactly is going to happen is the best way to approach Bliss. I went in pretty much blind, and felt myself experiencing some jaw-dropping scenarios.

To that end, the Blu-ray includes a deleted scene which was evidently originally Bliss‘ cold open, and leaving it on the cutting room floor lets the viewer experience the sudden cravings and madness had by Dezzy with the same sense of confusion and then, dawning realization, as the character herself, rather than foreshadowing too much of what’s to come. Much of what’s appealing about Bliss is the ride on which Begos takes the viewer, strapping them into the same hellbent train as the protagonist, parceling out the inevitable reveal in a string of hallucinatory visuals.

[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]

In the latest installment of the documentary series, Small Town Monsters, MOMO: The Missouri Monster (out September 20 on DVD and VOD), director Seth Breedlove brings a new direction to his exploration of lesser-known American cryptids. While previous outings have seen the series embrace a certain Unsolved Mysteries approach, wherein narration and first-person interviews are interspersed with reenactments, for MOMO, Breedlove has created a feature which stacks meta elements on top of one another.

In Breedlove’s latest, the fictional and factual intertwine in a way which the director describes as “Rashomon meets Creature from Black Lake or The Legend of Boggy Creek.” Real-life writer on the subject of cryptids – creatures whose existence can neither be proven nor discounted – Lyle Blackburn (who is also the narrator for many of Breedlove’s previous films) appears as the host of a television program, Blackburn’s Cryptid Casefiles, which is the program we’re supposedly watching.

This particular episode focuses on MOMO, a “hair-covered, three-toed monstrosity [which] was said to have prowled the forests of Star Hill, near Louisiana, Missouri during the summer of 1972.” The episode and film feature interviews with actual denizens of Louisiana, and explorations of the area wherein the encounters supposedly took place. That’s the real deal.

Where things get hinky and weird is the fact that while these encounters are documented, and Blackburn is a real-life investigator of such legends,  Blackburn’s Cryptid Casefiles isn’t a real TV show, although it does manage to come across as a slightly lower-budget version of programs like the History channel’s MonsterQuest or Syfy’s Destination Truth.

Adding to the weirdness is that the reenactments aren’t just presented as something created for the program, but as coming from a lost 1975 drive-on exploitation feature entitled MOMO: The Missouri Monster. When your fictional reality show features a fake b-movie, you know you’re getting into the weeds of oddity.

The end result is a film which is entertaining on several levels, although not as effective as it might be otherwise. The segments of Blackburn’s ostensible television show are, by virtue of the fact that the writer and researcher is actually interviewing these people, and everything is fairly genuine, work the best. These folks aren’t presented as rubes or hicks, but as people who don’t know what happened, and wish that they did. People saw something out there, and it was enough to result in the sheriff organizing dozens of men to search for it.

That’s the effective part. Now, the less-than-super aspect is the most creative idea. While the concept of presenting the reenactment segments as coming from a long-lost exploitation film is clever, and might allow for some acting issues or poor special effects to slide on by, the unfortunate fact is that the supposed ’75 MOMO: The Missouri Monster looks too good. While the first segment from the fake film looks just like a ’70s cheapy, replete with awkward camera angles, wooden dialogue, and a costume only surpassed by Godmonster of Indian Flats, the rest of it features CGI which is readily apparent as CGI.

At any point, Breedlove could’ve just made the purported UFOs using pie tins and some clip lights, but by trying to go a little above that, the illusion falls apart, and it’s just another bad film. Had the director really embraced the possibilities offered by recreating everything as the penny-pinching producers would’ve done it back in the day, his grindhouse homage would’ve been far more fun.

In the end, it’s an experiment which doesn’t quite bear positive results, but the exercise is interesting in theory. Seth Breedlove still knows how to make a documentary which manages to avoid all of the pitfalls embraced by so many other cryptid explorers, such as trying to make the movie more about those making the movie, rather than just telling an interesting tale. The end result is that MOMO: The Missouri Monster is a fun, mildly entertaining, and actually informative film.

[Rating: Swiss Fist]

Let it never be said that Todd Sheets doesn’t deliver. Granted, what he’s delivering might be different than what you’re after, but suffice it to say, the longtime Kansas City independent director knows how to bring the sticky, nasty gore, with a heaping helping of bared breasts.

So it goes in Sheets’ latest outing, the portmanteau-titled Clownado (out now on VOD and available on DVD September 13 from Wild Eye Releasing). To summarize:

“Cursed demonic circus clowns set out on a vengeful massacre using tornadoes. A stripper, Elvis impersonator, truck driver, teen runaway, and a dude get caught in the supernatural battle between femme fatal and the boss clown from hell.”

You certainly get all of that. Long story short, Savanna (Rachel Lagen) is cheating on circus leader Big Ronnie (John O’Hara). He kills her paramour, threatens to frame her for it, and then proceeds to have her tortured as part of his revenge. She can’t escape, because of the circus mafia — yep, that’s a thing — so she meets up with the circus’ fortune teller, who casts a spell which goes awry, thus creating the titular Clownado.

She goes on the run, we meet up with Dion Livingston (Antwoine Steele), an Elvis impersonator whose ethnicity seems to be remarked upon by every single person he meets, including trucker Hunter Fidelis (Bobby Westrick). They end up in a restaurant / strip bar ran by Spider (Linnea Quigley, in a brief cameo), and that’s where everything goes to hell.

There’s lots of yelling, various people are murdered in squishy, gooey ways, and the plot seems to mainly consist of the occasional reference to what we saw at the beginning, including a lot of characters who for some reason speak as if they’re from a ’30s gangster picture. It’s confusing, despite being fairly straightforward, but Sheets keeps Clownado churning along, never allowing things to get too mired down in plot. We’re here to watch evil clowns murder people, and that’s what we get.

There are some surprises along the way, however. The special effects, as always in a Todd Sheets movie, are plentifully gory and avoid too much CGI, choosing instead to utilize every possible way in which blood and/or organs can squish, squirt, and ooze out of a body via practical effects.

The performances aren’t master thespian level, by Bobby Westrick seems to comfortably inhabit trucker Hunter, and Antwoine Steele once again demonstrates that he’s Sheets’ secret weapon with a performance that brings to mind Ossie Davis in Bubba Ho-Tep, wherein Steele manages to be fairly grounded and realistic, despite the crazy shit going on around him.

Sheets tried to go all Lucio Fulci with 2016’s Dreaming Purple Neon, and while the attempt to go further and try something new was admirable, the mess which that movie became seems to have taught the director to tighten up, and the resulting films in Purple Neon’s wake have been all the more entertaining for it.

Granted, they aren’t high art, but there’s something to be said for a movie which aims for big dumb fun and succeeds. A Sheets gorefest doesn’t pander or wink to its audience, which is a major plus for Clownado. While its audience might be small, those who want to see the film won’t be disappointed. Other more casual fans might find it wanting.