Rating summary
Movie | | 4.0 |
Video | | 4.0 |
Audio | | 4.0 |
Extras | | 4.0 |
Overall | | 4.0 |
Chillerama Blu-ray Movie Review
Bad Taste Snack Shop. No Nutritional Value. Fun for All.
Reviewed by Michael Reuben November 29, 2011
Anthology horror films are a subgenre unto themselves. They operate from the premise that some
stories work better when they're short. Creepshow, Tales from the Hood, Tales from
the
Darkside, The House That Dripped Blood, even the TV-friendly Trilogy of Terror
all used
different framing devices to link several such stories into one movie. Chillerama is the latest
entry, made for a reported $300,000, but with boundless enthusiasm and just enough of the
winking nostalgia deployed by the makers of Grindhouse to keep the atmosphere light. But
where Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez allowed their homages to Seventies exploitation
films to become almost an academic essay on the subject, the four directors of Chillerama don't
require viewers to be experts on bad horror films to get the joke. You just have to enjoy poking
fun at cheesy dialogue, intentionally bad effects, preposterous plots and disgusting glop. It also
helps if you already understand, as most viewers do, that horror films are fundamentally about
sex, because there's no question what rating Chillerama would have gotten. It has enough
nudity,
simulated sex and bodily emissions for ten NC-17s.
To say that the humor of Chillerama is juvenile is to state the obvious. What elevates the
film's
stupidity above the mainstream (and certainly above standard Hollywood fare) is the intensity
and focus with which its creators pursue each puerile premise to its logical conclusion—and
frequently beyond. In this respect, though in not many others, Chillerama often reminded me of
certain routines by Monty Python's Flying Circus. The Pythons, too, often began with a premise
that was silly, childish, offensive or all of the above. Then they'd make it funny by pushing it
rigorously past the point where most comics would have lost heart. In one notoriously offensive Python
sketch, a man attempted to make funeral arrangements for his mother, only to discover that the
undertakers were cannibals. To increasing howls of protest from the audience, the funeral
director persuaded the client to join them in dining on the maternal remains. "Tell you what", he
said, with crystal clear logic. "We'll eat your mother, and if you feel guilty afterward, we'll dig a
grave and you can throw up into it."
If you can appreciate the mania for bad taste behind that routine, Chillerama should appeal to
you, even when you're exclaiming, "Yech!" (which will be often).
It's the last night at Kaufman's Drive-In, before the place is shuttered and razed for new
development. Long-time proprietor Cecil Kaufman (Richard Riehle) is a showman in the great
tradition of Orson Welles, whose picture hangs in his projection room. Kaufman wants to go out
with a bang, and he's showing a marathon of rare one-of-a-kind prints from his personal
collection.
Among the patrons arriving for this memorable night are a former employee, Toby (Corey
Jones), and his friends, Mayna (Kaili Thorne), on whom he has a crush, and Ryan (Brendan
McCreary), who has a crush on an employee at the concession stand named Desi (Laura Ortiz); a
married couple, Rick and Deb Marshall (A.J. Bowen and Briana Mackay), who have brought
their baby to a horror film fest out of nostalgia, because he was conceived at Kaufman's Drive-In; and
Miller (Ward Roberts), a junior VP at Blumps, the company that bought the property
from Kaufman, who is keeping an eye on the place for the night, accompanied by a hot number
named Laura (Olivia Dudley), who has promised to make the evening worth his while.
Having been systematically introduced to these various individuals, do you think any or all of
them might be in trouble before the evening is over?
But I've skipped over where
Chillerama begins, which is, appropriately enough, in a graveyard
with a man, later identified as Floyd (Miles Dougal), digging up his ex-wife in order to exact
necrophiliac revenge on her corpse. But is it really necrophilia when the violator is a zombie and
the corpse also turns out to be undead? Floyd is, uh, injured and staggers off to his job, which
just happens to be at Kaufman's Drive-In. His condition (for lack of a better term) results in a
small mix-up with buttered popcorn, which causes Floyd to become Patient Zero in an epidemic
of zombie-ism—coming soon to a drive-in near you! But Floyd's particular brand of zombie-ism
doesn't involve compulsive consumption of brains or viscera. Its victims are seized by an
irresistible urge to fornicate with any randomly available body (or body part).
In the meantime, though, there are Kaufman's rarities to watch. First up is "Wadzilla", written,
directed by and starring Adam Rifkin (
Detroit Rock City). A homage to Fifties films about giant
monsters created by atomic mutation that destroy a major city, "Wadzilla's" most obvious
reference is
The Blob. But the giant gooey predator threatening humanity in Rifkin's parody
isn't
from outer space. It's the result of an experimental drug prescribed by a cigarette-puffing
physician, Dr. Weems (Ray Wise), to one Miles Munson (Rifkin), an unfortunate fellow with a
low sperm count. (In general, there's more smoking in "Wadzilla" than in
Mad Men.) The drug is
supposed to make Miles's existing sperm stronger, but it just makes them bigger, causing Miles
agonizing pain whenever he gets aroused. Dr. Weems takes him off the drug, but it's too late.
Arriving for a blind date with a gorgeous woman named Louise (Sarah Mutch), Miles
experiences an episode that permanently eclipses
There's Something About Mary for extremity of
embarrassment, and the result is a very large and still-growing single-celled organism roaming
the streets of Manhattan, eating dogs, people and just about everything else.
The military is summoned, under the command of a general (Eric Roberts) whose name is one of
a seemingly endless string of double entendres with which the film climaxes (yes, I just said
that). As in
Ghostbusters 2, the Statue of Liberty plays a key role. As in the original
Ghostbusters, a shower of white glop drenches everyone in sight leading to what is surely the
longest string of cumshot jokes ever recorded in any film, mainstream or pornographic.
Next up is "I Was a Teenage Wearbear", for which the original pitch was "Zac Efron turns into
Ron Jeremy". Casting the Ron Jeremy part proved to be easy; indeed, Jeremy has a cameo. But
casting the Zac Efron part was a challenge. Ultimately, the filmmakers cast a gay porn star, Sean
Paul Lockhart, to play Micky, a young man torn between the charms of Peggy Lou (Gabby
West), a Sandra Dee/Annette Funicello beach bunny who would happily surrender herself body and soul
(but mostly body), and the darker allure of Talon (Anton Toy), the leather-clad biker who sings
like Elvis and has a Big Secret. Complicating matters is the homophobic jock clan led by Butch
(Adam Robitel), who keeps telling Billy that he's not "one of us". Butch is loyal to his coach
(played by director Tim Sullivan (
2001 Maniacs)), who—wouldn't you know it—turns out to
be a closet case.
To help Billy find his true self, Talon bites him on the ass, which, despite the best efforts of a
gypsy-sounding nurse (Lin Shaye), causes Billy to become a Werebear (a "bear", in gay parlance,
being a big, burly man with a beard). Aided by his new size and strength and his new clan, Billy
takes gruesome revenge on Butch and the jocks, who'd been threatening to rape him for being
gay. (No, it doesn't make much sense, but neither does homophobia.)
"Wearbear" draws liberally from Sixties beach movies,
Rebel Without a Cause (the subtext
between James Dean's and Sal Mineo's characters becomes overt),
The Lost Boys and, most
improbably of all,
Grease, because it's full of catchy musical numbers. After all, songs
express the emotions that characters can't say openly in words, and what better way to give voice to the
love that dare not speak its name? There's also an overt reference to
Carrie that's so
convoluted I'm not even going to try to explain it, but it's impossible to miss.
It might seem impossible to top Mel Brooks in making fun of Hitler, but Adam Green (
Frozen)
pulls it off in "The Diary of Anne Frankenstein". In Green's 1930s black-and-white parody, the
name "Frank" has been shortened to conceal the family's true origin, and the famous diary was
forged to prevent the world from learning what the Third Reich really wanted from them: the
secret to creating super-soldiers by reanimating dead tissue. Joel David Moore plays Hitler in an
inspired comic performance, and Kristine Klebe plays Eva Braun, his true love. Stunt coordinator
Kane Hodder plays the monster they construct, known as Meshugganah. Like a fine upstanding
Jewish creation, it eventually realizes that its mission is to kill Nazis, and thus "Diary" rewrites
history much as Quentin Tarantino did in
Inglourious Basterds (and with just as much blood).
Along the way, though, director Green and star Moore reduce Hitler to a gibbering idiot. All the
other actors speak German, using dialogue that co-star Klebe and her German-speaking mother
translated from the original English script, which is correctly rendered in subtitles. Hitler's lines
are also given in English, but Moore speaks the best nonsense German since Sid Cesar. If you
don't know German, you might not even realize Moore is making it up until you start
recognizing words like "schlemiel, schlemazel!" and "Vincent van Gogh!" (I'm pretty sure I also
heard him slip in "Goldie Hawn".)
This brings us to the fourth film of the evening, "Deathication", allegedly directed by one
Fernando Phagabeefy, who introduces the film. A name like "Phagabeefy" should be a tip-off
that the viewer is being had, but
Chillerama's credits say he's playing himself, and IMDb has
not only dutifully recorded the "fact", but has also given Phagabeefy his own page. In reality, the
character is a creation of director Joe Lynch (
Wrong Turn 2: Dead End), who wrote and directed
the framing device known as "Zom-B-Movie", which is the true fourth feature. "Deathication" is
a mercifully short and utterly revolting detour that continues the cinematic tradition (if it can be
called that) of John Waters'
Pink Flamingos. Waters should be ashamed, but he's probably
proud.
Chillerama Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality
I wasn't able to find definitive information on the photographic process, but there are several
references in the commentary to digital capture, and given (a) the tight budget, (b) the heavy
reliance on green screen and digital post-processing, and (c) the use of the same
cinematographer, Will Barratt, on each segment, it's likely that digital photography was used
throughout. Digital origination is the only explanation I can imagine for Image Entertainment's
ability to get away with using a BD-25 for a two-hour film with over an hour of extras, nearly all
of them in hi-definition (despite what it says on the Blu-ray case). By some miracle, and the
efficiencies of the AVC codec, compression artifacts aren't an issue on this disc. But Image is
really pushing it.
Chillerama played film festivals and toured major cities in a kind of modern "road show"
engagement, but it was clearly aimed at the home video market via download, DVD and Blu-ray,
and the 1080p, AVC-encoded image has been formatted at 1.78:1 accordingly. Since we're
dealing with three (or four, if you count the "Deathication" segment) short films and a framing
segment, each with a distinctive look, you can expect a wide array of visual styles.
As in "Strawberry Fields", nothing is real. From the moment the jokey animated titles dissolve
into Floyd (Miles Dougal), the drive-in assistant and secret zombie, who oozes fluorescent blue
fluid you don't really want to know about, it's clear that the images in Chillerama can't be
judged by normal standards. In general, the images in the framing "Zom-B-Movie" section are the
most realistic, once Floyd returns to his place of work. Colors are muted in the low light of car
interiors and stronger under the fluorescents of the concession stand and Kaufman's office and
projection booth. Detail is generally good, even in low-light conditions (because it's never truly
dark at a drive-in).
The image for "Wadzilla" has been purposely distressed to simulate a damaged print, but director
Rifkin did not go overboard (as I think Tarantino and Rodriguez sometimes did in
Grindhouse).
He did, however, go for a color scheme that would suggest three-strip Technicolor and, as he
relates in the commentary, was able to obtain the software used by the post house that handled
The Aviator. The result is a bright, intense, hyper-real image whose artificiality only serves
to emphasize the staginess of the acting and the deliberate fakery of the special effects, both
practical and digital. (Rarely, I suspect, have digital artists worked so hard to make their effects
look like cheap models that have been superimposed optically.) Detail is very good, and black
levels are excellent.
"The Diary of Anne Frankenstein" has also been artificially distressed, but in a different manner
consistent with the look of a much older film from the black-and-white era. Never for a moment,
though, do you believe that the footage you're watching is "vintage". Not only are the parody
elements too effective, but the B&W imagery itself is also too crisp and contemporary, even
under a layer of simulated aging. The detail of the monster Meshugannah's makeup (deliberately
ridiculous and over-the-top, as director Green stresses in interviews and commentaries) and of
the fake-looking gore, both digital and practical, is rendered extremely obvious by the deep
blacks and strong contrasts. In the commentary, the directors reveal that "Diary" was originally
intended to be the first segment, but was moved to the end so that the audience wouldn't get the
wrong impression that the whole of
Chillerama was B&W. The sensitivity is understandable
but unfortunate. Though this may not have been Green's intention, "Diary" is yet another example of
how wonderfully digital photography can recreate the densities and shadows of traditional B&W
photography. (The leading example to date is Francis Ford Coppola's
Tetro.)
No artificial aging or distress has been applied to "I Was a Teenage Werebear". The colors are
bright, cheerful and candy-colored, like the "beach blanket bingo" style that director Tim
Sullivan wanted to use as his starting point (and then subvert). That the result is to make the
Werebear makeup look even more obviously fake is fully intentional, as Sullivan confirms in the
commentary. When your story is all about bringing things that are hidden into the light of day,
and the visual strategy follows suit, even night scenes are brightly illuminated with plentiful
detail. With its smoothness and lack of grain, and without deliberately introduced flaws,
"Wearbear" sports the most obviously hi-def image of the group, but that doesn't make it look
any less strange. Indeed, given the storyline, in which the bite of the wearbear allows the main
character to embrace his homosexuality, the cheery visual style may be the segment's most
subversive element.
With respect to "Deathication", the image is clear and detailed. Most viewers will wish it wasn't.
Those who enjoy its clarity are people I don't want to know and you probably don't either.
Chillerama Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality
The 5.1 soundtrack for Chillerama is presented in DTS lossless, and the sound editing varies by
segment. For "Zom-B-Movie", which is the portion that can be called "contemporary", the mix
utilizes the full surround field, with plenty of activity in the rear channels, especially with
Kaufman's massive P.A. system and, once the zombie attack gets underway, crashes, grunts and
shrieks from all over. (As director Lynch says in the commentary, you'll never be able to hear
the famous "Wilhelm scream" quite the same way again.) The other three segments (or, four,
depending on how you count) make very little use of the surrounds except to fortify an
occasional big effect in front, because these are supposed to be low-budget films from an era
when even stereo was a luxury.
Still, the sound mixers had fun. When "Wadzilla" begins, Dr. Weems's advice sounds hollow
and detached from the screen. This was frequently the case in cheap films with rushed ADR, and
the effect recurs throughout "Wadzilla", to the point where you get used to it. In "I Was a
Teenage Wearbear", the switch from dialogue to studio-recorded, lip-synched singing is
extremely obvious, as it always was in those Frankie and Annette films. At one point, a
character's speech goes completely out of synch—a joke that happened by accident during an
early screening and produced such a laugh that the directors kept it.
Director Sullivan co-wrote the songs for "Werebear" with the segment's composer Patrick
Copeland. An additional song was written by Robbie Vinton (son of Bobbie), who appears in the
segment. Scoring for other portions was supplied by Andy Garfield (Frozen) and Bear McCreary
(Battlestar Galactica). It all strikes just the right note of mock seriousness.
Be sure to stay through the credits for a musical number by Hitler that had to be cut from "Diary"
for running time. It's worth it.
Chillerama Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras
- Directors' Video Commentary: In addition to talking through the feature, Rifkin,
Green,
Sullivan and Lynch can be watched recording their commentary in the upper left hand
quadrant of the screen. I fail to see what this video element adds to the experience, and if
I had the choice, I'd remove it from the screen. The image isn't large enough to reveal
facial expressions (or even show whose lips are moving), and there isn't anything in the
video portion of the program to justify losing a significant portion of the film image on
which the directors are commenting.
That flaw aside, it's an informative commentary. Although the members of the group
constantly rib one another, the mutual respect and pride in their joint accomplishment are
obvious, and each director is allowed to talk without major interruption about his
particular segment. It probably helped stimulate the conversation that none of the four had
seen the finished product before the commentary recording session in August 2011; the
version they'd seen at Comic-Con the previous month lacked final color grading and
complete effects, and each director had done some additional editing since then.
Among other interesting stories, the quartet describe how the project dates back to 1999,
when Rifkin was directing, and Sullivan was helping to produce, the little-seen Detroit
Rock City (which concerned the misadventures of a high school band trying to attend a
KISS concert). Sullivan and Rifkin discovered a mutual love of schlock "B" movies and
exploitation horror films, especially those made with wit and no budget by the likes of
Roger Corman and Troma Entertainment. After many delays and changes in concept and
personnel, the two joined forces with Lynch and Green.
Each director describes technical challenges and practical solutions and, in some cases,
reveals who turned them down for parts in the film. (The role of drive-in owner Cecil
Kaufman was written for Keith David, who considered the part for nine months before
declining.) They also discuss their inspirations, and at one poignant moment they lament
the fact that so many young filmmakers are dismissive of the horror classics that inspired
them (e.g., John Carpenter's Halloween is "too slow").
- The Making of "The Diary of Anne Frankenstein" (HD; 1.78:1; 23:18): Primarily an
extended interview with writer-director Adam Green, this documentary also includes
interviews with star Joel David Moore and stunt coordinator Kane Hodder (who played
the monster, Meshugannah). Among other topics, Moore and Green discuss the care they
took to ensure they didn't treat the historical Anne Frank disrespectfully. Moore also
describes the challenges of acting while speaking the faux German which is his
character's only language.
- "Wadzilla" Deleted Scenes (HD; 1.78:1; 6:05): There are seven scenes, most of
which
survive in one form or another in the finished film. These versions are primarily
interesting for a look at the unfinished effects, although one scene provides a longer
version of the monster attacking New York. A portion of the final scene, in which Dr.
Weems is interviewed by a TV reporter, plays during the film's credits.
- "I Was a Teenage Werebear"
- Behind the Scenes (HD; 1.78:1; 22:00): A well-organized and informative history
of the segment, featuring interviews with writer-director Sullivan, co-producer
Brian McCulley, composer Patrick Copeland, stars Lockhart and Troy and most of
the rest of the cast.
- Deleted Scenes (HD; 1.78:1; 14:28): There are twelve scenes. Many are short
additions or extensions, but several are extended or additional musical numbers,
including an alternate ending.
- "Zom-B-Movie" Deleted Scenes (HD;1.78:1; 4:03): The first of three scenes is from
"Deathication"; you have been warned. The second shows more of Kaufman's routine
before starting the evening's show. The third has Kaufman encouraging his former
employee Toby in the latter's romantic aspirations with Mayna.
- Famous Monsters (HD; 1.78:1; 5:42): Interviewed at Comic-Con on July 22, 2011 for
www.famousmonstersoffilmland.com, the four directors discuss their influences and the
origin of the project.
- Salfen Comic-Con Interview (SD; 1.85:1, non-enhanced; 7:52): Also interviewed on
July 22, 2011, the four directors give a brief overview of the film to webmaster Paul
Salfen.
- Trailers (HD; 1.78)
- Chillerama (2:14)
- I Was a Teenage Werebear (2:02)
- Wadzilla (2:40)
Chillerama Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation
Bad taste is a staple of comedy, and just when I think it's been worn out by being misused and
overused by hacks who lack both the wit and the courage to create anything truly interesting or
outrageous, something like Chillerama comes along and catches me by surprise. Humor is subjective, and Chillerama may not
be your thing, but you should be able to tell from
this review and the accompanying screen shots. With that disclaimer, the disc is highly
recommended.