Sorority House Massacre (1986)

... aka: Death House
... aka: Massacre
... aka: Una lama nella notte (A Knife in the Night)

Directed by:
Carol Frank

Here's another B-grade slasher from executive producer Roger Corman's Concorde Pictures and one clearly made in response to the success of Amy Jones' similar (and much better) THE SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE (1982) from the same company. It's essentially the same movie all over again with scantily-clad girls in a house being stalked and murdered by a knife-wielding maniac / asylum escapee, only this time it's done with far less blood, nudity, comedy, enthusiasm and action. First-time (and only-time) director / writer Carol Frank should have paid more attention to what was going on while she was serving as assistant director on Slumber, because she can't even find a sense of humor about how played out this material is nor is she able to really add any new twists to this tired old formula. Instead, she's too busy swiping plot points from the first two Halloween movies as well as A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984), THE AMITYVILLE HORROR (1979) and numerous other popular films of the 70s and 80s. The results are extremely bland.

Ever since moving into the Theta Omega Theta house, virginal, orphaned sorority pledge Beth (Angela O'Neill) has been plagued by nightmares of little bleeding girls and some wacko coming at her with a knife. Meanwhile, at a nuthouse, psycho Robert (John C. Russell), who murdered his entire family save for his youngest sister years earlier, is trying everything in his power to bust out. Since this asylum isn't the kind of asylum that exists in reality and is instead the kind of asylum that exists only in bad slasher-horror movies, escaping is easier than even he probably imagined. Robert kills an orderly, casually walks out of two doors and then hops over a small fence and he's home free. No staff. No guards. No alarms. No tall fence lined with barbed wire. No security cameras. Nothing. Hell, no one ever bothers locking any of the doors in this place! After he's out, Robert goes to a hardware store to steal a knife (and kill the owner), carjacks a woman's station wagon and then heads to the sorority house and does exactly what we all expect him do.

Despite having next to no plot, this film relies on an absurd amount of coincidence to keep going. Robert just happens to escape from the asylum on holiday weekend when most of the students are out of town and there just happens to be four sorority girls at the house; each to represent all four of his sisters. Beth just happens to be Robert's sole living sister who just happens to be pledging a sorority house that just happens to be the same house where the psycho murdered the rest of her family years earlier. Talk about your bad luck! Since Beth was five when she escaped her mad sibling's knife, she doesn't really remember any of it, but being in the house once again starts triggering dormant memories of the crimes. These frequent flashbacks are another of this film's major problems. Not only are they wedged in at every possible opportunity, grinding the film's pace to a standstill in the process, but they're also repetitive after the first few and offer up no new information. In other words, they serve no purpose whatsoever. If you removed all these from the film, it would probably run about 40 minutes.

I know one can't expect much from these kinds of films, but it doesn't deliver nearly as much as it should on any front. The poster is your usual bait-and-switch ad art featuring a large-breasted, attractive blonde in lingerie who isn't even in the film. Instead we get some rather average-looking "girl next door" types running around is butt ugly 80s clothes for the duration of the run time. Of the four main actresses, three of them (Wendy Martel, Pamela Ross and Nicole Rio) briefly go topless, so at least it has that much going for it. Where this film flatlines most is during the supposed "massacre." Not only does it take over 50 minutes for Robert to show up at the sorority house, but when he finally gets there he only kills five people and every single one is stabbed in the chest or back with a dime store retractable knife. I have no problem with the director aiming for a more suspenseful, less exploitative film (despite the title / marketing campaign), but she's not able to pull that off either.

Other points of interest? Well... I guess the boom mic being visible at least three times should be pointed out, especially the shot where you can not only see the microphone but the ENTIRE POLE holding it. Can't say I knew that colleges in SoCal taught psych courses on "dream imagery" and how to hypnotize people either. There's also the mystery of the boxer shorts, where a naked guy running from the killer is naked, then wearing boxers, then naked, then wearing boxer shorts again. I also couldn't figure out how the killer was able to be inside one minute yet leaping in through a second story window the next despite the absence of a balcony outside. Oh yes, and what 80s film would be complete without an 80s music montage? This has one of those, too, but it's kind of lame and the music sounds like something you'd hear in a supermarket. The only potentially interesting aspect is an attempt by the director to parallel the original killing spree to the current one and how that's all edited together. Other than that, this doesn't offer up anything we haven't already seen done, and done far better, hundreds of times elsewhere.

Two unrelated sequels - SORORITY HOUSE MASSACRE II and HARD TO DIE (aka Sorority House Massacre 3) - were eventually shot back-to-back by director Jim Wynorski in 1990 and both were a LOT more entertaining than this one. The thing is, when you are making what is essentially derivative trash for a specific audience, you have two options: 1. Take it seriously and come off as a bland copycat in the process, or 2. Be proud of the fact you're making trash and give the people what they really want to see (gratuitous T&A and blood) and have a sense of humor about it. Personally, I much prefer Wynorski's approach. Deborah Brock, who'd direct SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE II (1987) the following year, was the post production supervisor.

★1/2

Flying Saucer, The (1950)

Directed by:
Mikel Conrad

The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Thing from Another World and When Worlds Collide (all released in 1951) are three of the hit films usually credited for kick-starting the sci-fi craze that dominated much of 1950s genre cinema. But beating all of them to cinemas by more than a year was this independently-produced film, which also predates the few other sci-fi offerings of its own year by a number of months (it was filmed back in the summer of 1949). In fact, this is believed to be the very first American feature film ever to involve flying saucers and was clearly made in response to a then-recent surge in reported UFO sightings that were dominating newspaper headlines. It may also be the first of such sci-fi films to infuse elements of the Red Scare into the plot, though unlike later films that hid their true agenda behind metaphor, this one just comes right out and blatantly says it in the very first scene. Unlike most of the later films, it doesn't involve extraterrestrials at all and the saucer featured here is a man-made creation. Aside from being a footnote and reference point for film historians, The Flying Saucer has been mostly forgotten by audiences for good reason: it's flat, cheap, slow-moving, padded with filler and often incredibly boring. Forget about flying saucers, this actually seems more like a travelogue promo for Alaskan tourism.

In Washington D.C., CIA agent Hank Thorn (Russell Hicks) drafts Mike Trent (director Conrad, who also wrote and produced) for a covert mission in Alaska, where there have been recent sightings of flying saucers. The film never really says what qualifications Mike has for such a mission, aside from the fact he's a famous millionaire Playboy and polo player originally from Alaska. Regardless, our government thinks this drunk, chain-smoking, womanizing smart ass is the right man for the job of discovering the secrets of the flying saucers before the Russians do and use them to drop A-Bombs on all of the major American cities. Hank concocts a fake story about Mike suffering from a nervous breakdown to throw off the press, set him up with blonde "nurse" Vee Langley (Pat Garrison), who's actually a secret agent, fly the two of them to Seattle and from there they are off to Alaska on a boat.

Upon arrival, Mike and Vee go to their hunting lodge and meet up with the French caretaker Hans (Hantz von Teuffen). Not one to expose their true intention for being there, Mike immediately asks the stranger, "You seen any Russian spies around here recently?" Things are quiet for awhile as Mike and Vee soak up the scenery, go on hikes, go swimming, go on boat rides, encounter wildlife ("I just saw a bear! They're dangerous, aren't they?") and get better acquainted in a romantic sense, but one evening they are disturbed by strange, loud sounds in the sky. A man truly serious about his work, Mike promptly heads into Juneau, goes on a pub crawl and gets wasted drinking rye. What does this have to do with flying saucers, you ask? Well, absolutely nothing, but it sure does help to eat up the minutes, doesn't it? 

It's eventually revealed that reclusive scientist Dr. Carl Lawton (Roy Engel) has finished his saucer prototype and has it hidden somewhere in the mountain ice caps with plans on selling the invention to the U.S. military for 10 million dollars. His assistant Mr. Turner (Denver Pyle) betrays him and goes to some Russian KGB agents stationed in Alaska led by Colonel Marikoff (Lester Sharpe) and his right hand man Alex Muller (Earle Lyon). The Russians are all played by American actors and none of them even attempt any kind of accent. The Frenchman is also in cahoots with the Russians but all of his attempts to kill Mike and Vee are botched in one way or another. There are a few poorly-choreographed and unexciting action scenes and lots of time is spent on travelogue footage. The utterly predictable finale takes place in some ice caves beneath a glacier.

Aside from decent location filming, some beautiful scenery and perhaps being a first of its type, this isn't a good film. It's dull, the acting is mediocre at best and it's filled with pointless, drawn-out scenes that exist solely to pad out the slim story line. Most disappointing of all is that there are just two scenes of the flying saucers in the air; both of which are over in a matter of seconds.

★1/2

Le laboratoire de l'angoisse (1971)

... aka: Laboratory of Anguish, The
... aka: Laboratory of Fear

Directed by:
Patrice Leconte

Leconte first picked up a camera at the age of 15. By his early 20s, he was working as a cartoonist and attending the famous state run film school Institut des hautes études cinématographiques (Institute for Advanced Film Studies), which would later be renamed La Fémis and boasted many alumni who'd later make their mark in film including Louis Malle, Alain Resnais, Claire Denis, Volker Schlöndorff, Jean-Jacques Annaud and Costa Gavras. After completing a number of shorts, Lcconte made his feature film debut with the comedy Les vécés étaient fermés de l'intérieur, which wasn't well received by either audiences or critics. Leconte's follow-up films, however, were hits and he'd go on to become a top comedy director in his home country. Unfortunately, his films were seldom released outside of France and none really got him much in the way of critical respectability. The tide started turning with Tandem, which was not only financially successful in France but also received six César Awards, including Best Film and Best Director. Lcconte broke away from comedy with his next feature, Monsieur Hire (1989), and the results were career-changing. Not only did the film win widespread critical acclaim and numerous prestigious awards, but it also put the director on the radar outside of France and won him a much-wider international audience that he enjoys to this day.

Le laboratoire de l'angoisse was one of Leconte's very early shorts; his second if IMDb is to be trusted. It's also his only film with a horror label, though it's primarily a dark comedy. The song "The Streets of Cairo, or the Poor Little Country Maid" (aka “The Snake Charmer Song” and “The Girls of France”) plays over the opening credits and then we get a disclaimer telling us that “Chemical and biochemical realism was not the primary concern of this film.”

The setting is the National Research Center of the IMPC, where all of the best graduates of the nation's chemistry schools go to work. The pretty Clara (Marianne di Vettimo), the sole female employed there, proves to be one of the most dedicated and hardest working scientists in the place and is always there late into the night after everyone else has left. As she's working on obtaining a deposit of silver oxide from lead chloride; a slow process that requires lots of patience and many different chemicals, klutzy night janitor Antoine (Michel Such) sets about trying to woo her. He plays her a Lebanese flute, jumps up on the table, breaks flasks, brings her cold chicken to eat and does various other things to try to get her attention. She's so busy with her work that she barely pays any attention to him even when he confesses his undying love for her.

By the film's end, Antoine manages to accidentally mangle himself up pretty good with various chemicals as he nervously pursues the completely disinterested girl. His hand smokes as he spills sulfuric acid, arthycylic acid and mercury on it. After Clara successfully completes her experiment and he thinks he stands a chance, he has a nasty encounter with some chemical called carburet tritonytrate that leads up to a gory visual gag. This is OK but not particularly clever or inventive and the laughs are mild at best. It runs 11 minutes and is available on a Region 3 DVD called Their First Films distributed by Alto Media. The set also includes early shorts from other well-known French directors like Mourice Pialat, Alain Resnais, Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Francois Truffaut, Jacques Doniol-Valcroze, and Jean-Pierre Melville.

★★