Category: DVD/BLU-RAY

1985’s “Igor and the Lunatics” retains unusual credits. The director listed on the feature is Billy Parolini, but he shares the work with Tom Doran and Brendan Faulkner, who are responsible for “horror, action, and suspence (sic) sequences.” The film definitely reflects a production that was managed by multiple people, undergoing borderline random reshoots, with the final cut a wild mess of characters and ideas that, maybe, once made sense to those who created the picture. “Igor and the Lunatics” is meant to become a rough ride of violent activity tied to the persistence of a cult attempting to maintain power in rural New York. It’s a show of menace and physical brutality that’s been done before, but in this endeavor, ideas and people are placed into an editorial blender, and the resulting mush of genre highlights is offered as entertainment. There’s a lot of “huh?” and “what?” going on in the offering, and very little of it is amusing, intentionally or otherwise. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1972’s “The Possession of Joel Delaney” is an adaptation of a 1970 novel by Ramona Stewart, examining the panic of a woman trying to make sense of her little brother’s sudden violent decline, approaching the unreal to acquire answers. Screenwriters Irene Kamp and Matt Robinson are challenged to find some sense of reality for the genre picture, while director Waris Hussein is left to sell the literary ride, making detailed, internalized despair into a cinematic offering capable of frightening viewers. “The Possession of Joel Delaney” has a certain cinematic presence during its first half, and the story’s investigation into class and cultural divide is potentially interesting. Sadly, good work to build up this world of fear is basically destroyed in the final act, which gives in to needless cruelty and absurdity, on the hunt for a level of shock value the rest of the feature does just fine without. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Directors Janis Cole and Holly Dale seek to understand a situation of prostitution in Canada. “Hookers on Davie” is a documentary capturing the lives of many streetwalkers as they try to make a living in a Vancouver area branded the “prostitution capital of Canada.” It’s a neighborhood filled with businesses and residents, but also home to a community of sex workers trying to make it through the night, often relying on one another for companionship and safety. “Hookers on Davie” is a direct understanding of behavior and a fly-on-the-wall depiction of the profession, as Cole and Dale keep things relatively real while spending a significant amount of time with their subjects, slowly permitted access to their feelings and personal histories as filming carries on. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Director Hannah Pearl Utt impressed with her last endeavor, 2019’s “Before You Know It,” blending interests in comedy with something more sincere when dealing with character yearnings and foibles. Utt returns to a similar dramedy landscape with “Cora Bora,” following the misadventures of a young woman attempting to handle herself with care, only to end up in impossible situations of longing and awkwardness as she tries to reconnect with her past. The picture also offers a starring opportunity for actress Megan Stalter, who’s been particularly good about stealing scenes in recent efforts (including “Sometimes I Think About Dying” and “Please Don’t Destroy: The Treasure of Foggy Mountain”), and she’s terrific here, handling the turns found in the screenplay (by Rhianon Jones), which tracks a bumpy road of maturation. “Cora Bora” is a little lumpy at times with pace, and a few supporting characters seem superfluous to the odyssey, but the feature remains involving and empathetic, detailing a specific stretch of emotional unrest. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1983’s “Flashdance” came out of nowhere, hitting the scene with its style and soundtrack, which proved to be an irresistible package for ticket-buyers. The feature amplified growing interest in the MTV world of music-driven imagery, and such a mid-budget smash attracted a lot of imitators and rehashes. Director Lucio Fulci isn’t the first helmer that pops into mind when it comes to boppin’ cinema of the 1980s, but he attempts to compete with 1984’s “Murder Rock,” trying to stitch together a little flash-dancing of his own with the more familiar ways of an Italian giallo. Fulci actually gets fairly far with the big screen presence of the offering, cooking up as much dancing and dynamic lighting as possible. And there’s a good amount of chiller in the endeavor, exploring the destruction of bodies from a gloved killer. It’s not a particularly stimulating thriller, maintaining the usual in Fulci sluggishness, but it’s a colorful, soundtrack-driven effort that shows some thought with its dangerous ways. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1973’s “The Mansion of Madness” is an adaptation of the Edgar Allan Poe short story, “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether.” Director Juan Lopez Moctezuma is tasked with taking a small amount of pages and turning it into a feature film, and the stretchmarks of this labor are visible throughout the viewing experience. Taking a surreal route to cinematic puzzling, Moctezuma goes the Jodorowsky way with the endeavor, which isn’t interested in the storytelling strengths of Poe’s work. The picture is more attracted to the theatricality of insanity, supplying an episodic journey into a special kind of Hell that’s not always interesting to watch, while some parts need to be endured. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

“Rats” comes from the minds of co-writers/directors Carl Fry and Maxwell Nalevansky, who make their feature-length filmmaking debut with the endeavor. And the partners are trying to stuff as much as they can into the offering, out to make a wild, absurdist comedy that follows the everyday insanity of Fresno, TX. It’s a town home to petty crime, unhinged people, and the site of a possible sale of nuclear weapons to terrorists. Those weaned on Adult Swim programming are the target demographic for the effort, which almost exclusively rides along on shock humor and pronounced oddity, putting Fry and Nalevansky on a journey to make an extreme movie on a minimal budget. “Rats” is definitely crazy, and there are laughs to be had along the way, especially when the helmers try for inspired lunacy. But even the most die-hard fans of cinematic nuttiness might find themselves checking the time during the viewing experience, as Fry and Nalevansky can’t quite sustain their vision for this explosion of egos and bodily fluids. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

In 1976, writer/director Jeff Lieberman found himself with something of a hit with “Squirm,” his take on a “nature’s revenge” offering, involving the very slow violence of worms coming after people. In a smart career move, Lieberman tries something quite different in his follow-up, 1977’s “Blue Sunshine, which turns away from the horrors of the dirt to play into paranoia cinema of the decade. While still retaining some exploitation extremes and B-movie clunkiness, Lieberman does fairly well with his take on an LSD-fueled mystery, creating an engrossing detective tale that encounters a few enjoyably bizarre turns. There’s filmmaking growth, which is what really matters here, making this endeavor arguably the best picture of Lieberman’s career. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1994 was a big year for action movies involving skydiving. Sure, there was 1991’s “Point Break,” which did something special during its aerial ballet sequences, but three years later, two studios elected to release skydiving films within months of each other. “Terminal Velocity” arrived first, becoming part of Hollywood’s weird obsession to make Charlie Sheen a heroic cinematic presence. “Drop Zone” was part two of the genre experiment, returning Wesley Snipes to action figure status after the unexpected success of 1992’s “Passenger 57,” sending him into the sky once again as a U.S. Marshal hunting for a team of criminals trying to make a mess of DEA work in Florida. There should be a lot of fun here, especially with Snipes in badass mode, but “Drop Zone” visibly struggles at times under the supervision of director John Badham, who’s not the right fit for material that desperately needs a more aggressive approach. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

It’s a tale of attraction and realization in 1983’s “Baby It’s You,” which is collected from the memories of co-producer Amy Robinson and brought to the screen by writer/director John Sayles. It’s a period piece, taking viewers back to the mid-1960s, following two characters as they deal with ideas of love and realities of life, trying to understand the impossible as these teenagers mature into young adults. Sayles pumps the picture full of music and does an excellent job capturing a time and place, but he’s not making a sentimental feature in “Baby It’s You.” There’s no gooey center to this understanding of deep feelings, and dramatic power is curiously missing from the offering, which lands some adolescent blues, but comes up a little short when trying to realize arcs of awareness facing the main characters. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Known for his work on “The Singing Detective” and “Pennies from Heaven,” writer Dennis Potter loves to visit dark spaces of the human soul. He returns to such depths in “Brimstone & Treacle,” which was originally conceived as a BBC production before it was turned into a theater piece, and it lives again in a 1982 screen adaptation, directed by Richard Loncraine. The helmer has a particular challenge in this material, which veers into impossibly bleak territory as it offers a sizable psychological study, finding Potter in a mood to poke at religious belief and personal denial in the work. “Brimstone & Treacle” isn’t a raw feature, retaining the feel of a theatrical production, which isn’t always welcome. However, the offering is potent in spots, especially when concentrating on the Machiavellian ways of the main character as he tries to bring complete ruin to a family that’s already fallen apart. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

The mysteries of deep space are explored in 1967’s “The Terrornauts.” The material began life as a 1960 book by Murray Leinster and is turned into a B-movie event by Amicus Productions, who spare many an expense when bringing this tale of unreal contact to the screen. Facing a tight budget, director Montgomery Tully and screenwriter John Brunner aim to keep the picture small in scale and bright with performances, endeavoring to depict a special alien exploration without leaving the comfort of sets and dialogue exchanges. “The Terrornauts” doesn’t overwhelm in its pacing and plotting, but Tully finds ways to keep the viewing experience somewhat engaging, aided greatly by a cast committed to selling this sci-fi realm of radio communication and enemy encounters. A little enthusiasm helps tremendously here, along with a plan to reach an explosive finale, keeping escalation in play. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Filmmakers have to start somewhere, and for Ivan Reitman, horror was a chance to get his name out there, hoping to launch his career with a surefire hit. His second directorial effort, 1973's "Cannibal Girls" finds Reitman hoping to make something spooky and a little gross, joined by screenwriter Daniel Goldberg for a semi-improvised examination of slow-burn evil and human consumption starring two future comedy hall-of-famers, Eugene Levy and Andrea Martin. "Cannibal Girls" is a strange little movie, and Reitman has an overall idea to reach a certain level of creepiness with the picture. Sadly, he can't snap the endeavor out of its slumber, as nothing really happens in the feature, leaving the cast with dead-end scenes and very mild gore to manage as the offering struggles to locate any signs of suspense. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

"Last of the Red Hot Lovers" opened on Broadway during the final days of 1969. The Neil Simon creation went on to become a hit on stage, attracting audiences with its humorous study of a man trying (and failing) to screw up the courage to have an affair, facing three women who challenge his life and behavior in different ways. There were Tony Award nominations, and soon a screen adaptation in 1972, with director Gene Saks hired to bring Simon's particular way of writing to movie theaters, having already managed the playwright's perspective in "Barefoot in the Park" and "The Odd Couple." The helmer doesn't really do much to Simon's material in "Last of the Red Hot Lovers," which maintains a steady filmed play appearance, sustaining focus on the actors as they work the frame and their coverage, replicating stage energy in the offering. But what a cast it is, as Alan Arkin leads the charge in this grand study of neuroses and panic, paired with wonderful supporting turns from Sally Kellerman, Paula Prentiss, and Renee Taylor, who help to generate enough buzzing energy to the endeavor to keep it mildly interesting. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1995's "Assault of the Party Nerds II" (also known as "The Heavy Petting Detective: Assault of the Party Nerds II" and "Assault of the Party Nerds II: The Class Reunion") looks to reconnect with the merriment of the original 1989 film, and doing so in a manner taken by many sequels: the remake route. It's a loose replication of the first picture, though writer/director/star Richard Gabai has a noticeably larger budget and more shooting days to work with, aiming to spruce up what was arguably his biggest career hit. Unfortunately, the helmer's sense of humor doesn't receive an upgrade in the follow-up, which remains with dismal writing and acting as it attempts to conjure a return to past late night basic cable glories for the Blockbuster generation. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Richard Gabai had a dream. He wanted to work in Hollywood, participating in the great race to deliver movies to audiences, forced to use whatever means possible to complete his projects. 1989's "Assault of the Party Nerds" represents Gabai's filmmaking debut, at the helm of what's meant to be a wit-free sillyfest about dumb characters working out dumb problems. It hopes to be a fun time, but one has to wonder why such a lighthearted affair would have "Assault" in its title. Additional questions arrive during the viewing experience, as Gabai launches an endeavor that's more Ed Wood than "Revenge of the Nerds," taking five whole days to complete an offering that's, perhaps unsurprisingly, completely laugh-free and painfully low-budget. Acquiring a small fanbase due to early morning airings on basic cable in the 1990s, "Assault of the Party Nerds" might remain golden in the eyes of nostalgia, but, in the cold light of day, it's mostly a slog as Gabai clearly struggles to piece together a complete picture. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Roger Corman never turned down a chance to cash in on a profitable moviemaking opportunity, but he took a bit of time to recognize the potential of his "Massacre" series of slasher films. What began in 1982's "The Slumber Party Massacre" didn't really continue until 1987's "The Slumber Party Massacre II," and a real exploration of the brand name emerged in 1986, when "Sorority House Massacre" attempted to capture audience attention with its usual formula of a madman on the loose, stalking young victims. Corman isn't coloring outside the lines with these endeavors, but there's something interesting in the employment of female directors to handle exploitative genre events, finding Carol Frank taking command of "Sorority House Massacre," tasked with expanding personality and orchestrating violence on a tiny budget. Frank has some artful ways, but she's missing a great deal of suspense in this especially poky picture. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Please Don't Destroy is a comedy troupe best known for their work on "Saturday Night Live," picking up the weird-short-videos-from-three-friends mantle previously held by The Lonely Island. Members John Higgins, Ben Marshall, and Martin Herlihy have a special approach to comedy, combining intense emotional highs and lows with healthy amounts of absurdity, sold with lightning-fast edits and zoom-happy cinematography. Their bits are often limited to their office space, and the gang uses the art of brevity well. Much like The Lonely Island, Please Don't Destroy is ready for a cinematic upgrade, with "The Treasure of Foggy Mountain" their debut movie, requiring Higgins, Marshall, and Herlihy to think bigger and much longer with their screenplay. Not straying far from their sense of humor, "The Treasure of Foggy Mountain" is a big goof, but it's also a very funny one, with Please Don't Destroy successfully handling the challenge of length with a fast-paced, wonderfully silly romp. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

If you're under the belief that original ideas are missing from the movies today, here's "Love Me." It's the debut feature for writer/directors Sam and Andy Zuchero, and the siblings attempt to explore the human condition from an unusual perspective. Technology is the theme here, following the development of sentience as an ocean buoy and orbiting satellite strive to experience a relationship in a post-apocalyptic setting. The ruined Earth is the location for the picture, and the Zucheros often retreat into a digital world to help the characters connect, with animation representing most of the viewing experience. "Love Me" is specialized work for a specialized audience, and not something made for casual viewing. It's not entirely successful in the storytelling department, but there's vision to the endeavor that remains interesting, along with writing that tracks the messiness of relationships and the mysteries of life. It's a big swing for the helmers, who attempt to deliver something quite unique while inspecting universal ideas on personal connection and experience. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Director Mercedes Bryce Morgan is primarily known for her work in music videos and short films, with "Spoonful of Sugar" her feature-length helming debut, tasked with putting together a psychological scramble of domestic issues and drug experimentation. Her limited experience with the demands of drama is noticeable in the picture, challenged to make sense of a screenplay by Leah Saint Marie, which visits the outer rings of reality via the unreal rules of LSD. Marie digs up something of a "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" remake with "Spoonful of Sugar," only here there's very little participatory room for the audience, who are basically asked to watch Morgan assemble glossy images while Marie arranges a vague sense of concern for the characters. It doesn't add up to much in the end, often registering as nothing more than bits of ugliness in search of a story. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com