Enter the Video Store: Empire of Screams
Directed by David Allen/Charles Band/John Carl Buechler/Stuart Gordon/ Peter Manoogian.
Starring Jeffrey Byron, Richard Moll, Carolyn Purdy-Gordon, Guy Rolfe, Ian Patrick Williams, Yvonne De Carlo, Stephen Lee, Jeffrey Combs, Blackie Lawless, William Butler, Paul Satterfield, Anne-Marie Johnson, Gary Graham, Leslie Wing, Hilary Mason, Debrah Farentino, Michael Deak, Claudia Christia, Marc Alaimo, Robert Sampson.
SYNOPSIS:
Limited Edition box set containing five 1980s video store favourites from Charles Band’s Empire International Pictures.
For those of us old enough to remember, the pre-Blockbuster video store days were a time when the discovery of new favourites usually came down to a) graphic artwork on the cover, b) an actor you’ve probably seen in something else in the starring role, or c) it was released by a studio or on a label you are already familiar with. Arrow Video know this and so their latest foray into box set territory taps right into the primordial jelly inside the brains of those whose formative genre education was attained amongst the shelves containing the works of such filmmakers as Stuart Gordon, Charles Band and John Carl Buechler, and released under the umbrella of Empire International Pictures.
Not that there is anything wrong with higher budget studio productions, but there was something about the likes of Zone Troopers, Troll, Rawhead Rex and Ghoulies that bored their way into the subconsciousness of consumers at the time that meant that when, thirty-odd years later, pristine Blu-ray editions of these movies appear there is an audience for them, ready to relive all of those gloriously daft horror/sci-fi/fantasy movies moments but in sparkling HD.
Enter the Video Store: Empire of Screams takes five titles from that era that should be familiar to most but also represent the spirit of Empire International Pictures and what they meant in genre circles. These five movies may not be the ‘best’ that the studio had to offer, and they may not be your favourites, but they give a good spread of the studio’s output during that period, only with the advantage of having an Arrow Video polish.
So, what do we have in this set? Well, first up is The Dungeonmaster from 1984, or if you were in the UK at the time you would likely have seen the VHS tape titled as Ragewar. In it, Jeffrey Byron plays Paul Bradford, a computer programmer whose girlfriend Gwen (Leslie Wing) thinks that he is more in love with his computer than he is with her and won’t accept his marriage proposal until he proves otherwise.
However, help is at hand for this in the shape of Mestema (Richard Moll), a sorcerer from another dimension who kidnaps Gwen and takes her to his underworld kingdom. Here, he tasks Paul with seven quests he must complete to win back his true love, or the one that isn’t his PC.
Naturally, The Dungeonmanster was made on a tight budget and the longest version (there are three on the disc) runs at 77 minutes so there is a lot to cram in with very little in the way of quality effects, but everyone involved gives it a damn good go. The real selling point of The Dungeonmaster, though, is that each of the seven quests is written and filmed by a different director, giving the movie an anthology feel, and to everyone’s credit it flows very smoothly and works as a single narrative piece.
To anyone familiar with the likes of fellow Empire stablemates Ghoulies and Troll, the work of special effects maestro John Carl Buechler is the standout feature of the movie, and Buechler also wrote and directed the segment entitled Demons of the Dead, which isn’t the best segment but it does feature a cool demon puppet, so in many ways this movie also plays out as a sort of Empire International Pictures Greatest Hits as it does pretty much cover every aspect of the studio and the crews behind the films, which also means it features many of the flaws, the bulk of which come down to budget restrictions as it was clearly produced for whatever small change Charles Band had in his pocket at the time, and – puppets aside – this movie does look cheap – perhaps most of the cash went on securing shock rockers W.A.S.P. for the Charles Band-directed Heavy Metal segment.
However, there is a solid performance by Jeffrey Byron and an outstanding arch villain turn from Richard Moll, who is quite clearly having a blast by showing us what Darth Vader would have been like if he were played by Christopher Lee selling his soul for a pay check. Byron also contributes to an excellent audio commentary where he is interviewed by film critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain, and mentions more than once that his godfather is legendary director John Ford, just in case you missed it, but his recollections are fun and make watching the movie a more rewarding experience because, overall, it is a bit of a mess.
Next up is Dolls, directed by Stuart Gordon, who had just excited the horror world with his Lovecraft adaptations Re-Animator and From Beyond when this was originally released in 1987. In this one, horrible parents David and Rosemary Bower (Ian Patrick Williams and Carolyn Purdy-Gordon) and David’s young daughter Judy (Carrie Lorraine) end up in a creepy old house during a thunderstorm, along with fun-loving Ralph (Stephen Lee) and two female hitchhikers who are also sheltering from the storm. The house is owned by elderly couple Gabriel and Hilary Hartwicke (Guy Rolfe and Hilary Mason), who are toymakers and specialise in making dolls that are very creepy looking.
The Hardwicke’s take a shine to Judy and Ralph, sensing that they are good souls and take joy in the happiness that toys can bring, but Judy’s dismissive parents and the two thieving hitchhikers aren’t given such a friendly welcome when the dolls come alive and go on the rampage, attacking those who appear to have lost their child-like innocence.
Short and sweet, Dolls is – despite its plot – a more restrained horror movie than what you would expect from the mastermind behind two of the 1980s gooiest movies, but what Stuart Gordon does do is set a mood of uneasiness right from the start. Gothic mansions and thunderstorms may have been seen as a bit naff by 1987 but time and money were not forthcoming and so Gordon uses obvious movie language to get the movie where it needs to be quickly.
However, the pace does drop off a bit once all the characters are introduced, but this helps in setting up the final act, when the dolls come alive and go on their killing spree. The stop-motion may look a little clunky these days but when put into the context of the era you can see a lot of effort has gone into creating something that could have been too comical for audiences but is actually quite unnerving, especially when you consider that Charles Band would go on to create the Puppet Master series a couple of years later and the puppets in those movies don’t look as spooky as the dolls here.
Guy Rolfe and Hilary Mason are wonderfully weird as the toymakers, so much so that Rolfe turned up in the Puppet Master series as the puppet’s creator André Toulon, and Carolyn Purdy-Gordon and Stephen Lee camp things up to add some fun but Ian Patrick Williams is dreadfully bland as the Judy’s neglectful father, and the less said about the two hitchhikers and their awful English accents the better, even though Cassie Stuart – who plays one them – is actually English!
Coming backed with three audio commentaries, an interview with Stuart Gordon’s editor Lee Percy, an archive ‘making-of’ documentary and trailers, this new 2K scan looks decent, the HD picture not being too unkind to the ‘80s special effects, and as a movie Dolls is terrific fun and very much the sort of movie that came to define Empire International Pictures, and later on, Full Moon Pictures.
Which is something that could also apply to 1988s Cellar Dweller. The movie opens with Jeffrey Combs summoning a demon in a dark cellar, which is always a good start, via the medium of comic book art. A few decades later his house has become an art institute run by Mrs. Briggs (The Munsters’ Yvonne De Carlo), who welcomes new student Whitney Taylor (Debrah Farentino) into the fold. Somewhat inevitably, Whitney goes snooping around in the basement and comes across all the tools to resurrect the demon that made Empire stalwart Combs hold his hands to the heavens and scream.
Written by Child’s Play creator Don Mancini and directed by John Carl Buechler, Cellar Dweller is really a bog-standard 1980s creature feature when it comes to its plot, feeling a bit padded out despite its 77-minute running time. However, once you sprinkle some John Carl Buechler magic into the production the movie does exhibit that certain something that made even Empire’s lowliest straight-to-video titles worth a rental or two, and with Buechler’s visual flair not only coming across in the monster make-up but also in the framing and some spectacularly gory kills, Cellar Dweller does have a charm that has kept it as one of the most popular titles from the era; after all, a Hollywood legend like Yvonne De Carlo didn’t really need to appear in it but there she is, and throw in genre favourite Jeffrey Combs for what is really an extended cameo and you have video store gold right there.
Cellar Dweller is best watched with the brand new audio commentary by Empire superfans Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain, who get to interview actor and effects artist Michael Deak, a man who has several stories to tell and is very complimentary of his time working on the movie, especially as he played the titular creature and reveals that he was also offered the part of another iconic horror villain of the 1980s (it isn’t difficult to work out who). Deak also turns up in a new video interview, talking about his career and working with Charles Band, John Carl Buechler and all the other names you would expect to hear, and Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain also return with Grabbed By the Ghoulies, a video appreciation of John Carl Buechler that covers his whole career and provides some context if you are new to his work, or a bit of nostalgia if you are already familiar. The rest of the extras are made up with trailers and stills, and whilst Cellar Dweller may not be the most intellectually stimulating horror movie you’ll ever see it does touch on all the bases that all good ‘80s horror movies should to guarantee a fun time, and you can’t really expect more than that.
So, we’ve had fantasy and we have had horror, which means it must be time for some sci-fi, and that comes in the form of 1989s Arena. Here, a fighting tournament between different intergalactic species is taking place and, notably, a human fighter has not won or apparently done very well in it at all in aeons. Fortunately, this is about to change as Steve Armstrong (Paul Satterfield) is spotted holding his own against a couple of goons that work for promotor Quinn (Claudia Christian) and is offered the chance to fight so he can earn the money to get back to Earth. However, crime lord and Quinn’s rival Rogor (Marc Alaimo) has other ideas because if Steve wins and a human becomes champion then his position in the underworld would be jeopardised.
Or something like that. Anyway, Arena is a movie you have probably seen before in a dozen different disguises because plot-wise it does nothing that the likes of Kickboxer or No Retreat, No Surrender haven’t done, or at least toyed with (except that Arena does not feature Bruce Lee’s ghost, but it may as well have), and it has the added bonus of being set in space, or so the superimposed backgrounds in the establishing shots tells us.
The thing is, those aforementioned movies – and most of the other fighting tournament movies with a revenge sub-plot you can think of – had better actors, directors and bigger budgets to play with, and in the hands of another filmmaker those obstacles could have been overcome but director Peter Manoogian’s sluggish style and the total lack of spark from any of the cast – who may not be totally to blame as the script is hardly award-winning – means that Arena never really takes off and just lurches from scene to scene with some of the most unexciting fight choreography you can imagine – which is quite the achievement when you consider that Steve Armstrong has to fight what looks like a giant cockroach – and action that is as adrenaline-fuelled as a Sunday afternoon nap.
Coming in at 97 minutes, Arena is a bit of a chore to sit through, the first act setting up what could be something fun, if not original, but it spends too long throwing in all of the metaphoric plot details about corruption, class warfare and taking on the system that nobody really comes to this type of movie for, and then spends the rest of the running time padding things out for no reason other than Peter Manoogian was probably told he could make a movie longer than 80 minutes. As with all of the movies in this set, Arena is best viewed with the commentary supplied by Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain, who interview Manoogian, and the extras do also include another interview with Michael Deak, but as a movie Arena is the dud in this set, which is disappointing as the puppetry and special effects are its strong points but, unfortunately, not enough to make it anything other than a curiosity.
And finally, we get the second Stuart Gordon-directed treat in this set with Robot Jox from 1989, and if you ever wondered if there was a Pacific Rim prequel then this is probably as close as you are going to get. Alright, there aren’t any kaiju in it but giant robots were the order of the day and this relatively expensive movie – a $10 million budget for Empire Pictures was unheard of, especially as it pretty much bankrupted the studio – follows in the tradition of nearly every Stuart Gordon movie by having a lot of heart. However, in this case the end result is a little underwhelming.
The plot is simple as we have East vs. West in a post-apocalyptic future, where wars are a thing of the past and disputes between countries are solved by specially trained combat soldiers – or robot jox – who pilot huge mechanical fighting machines to duke it out. America and Russia are fighting over the disputed territory of Alaska, but America’s veteran jock Achilles (Gary Graham) has a crisis of conscience and is replaced by lab-bred female jock Athena (Anne-Marie Johnson), which does not go down well. Add to this a sub-plot about spies infiltrating the American side, and some goofy but enjoyable stop-motion effects, and you have all the makings of a cult classic.
Which, to a point, Robot Jox is as it is a title that was very popular at the time and it does have a reputation of being totally daft but terrific fun, and very much ahead of its time. However, that was back in 1989/1990, when special effects available at this budget weren’t as sophisticated as they are now, and looking at the movie 30 years removed from a sleepover VHS rental with your mates the movie does suffer a bit as the novelty does wear off a lot quicker than it did back then, as you are basically looking at toys filmed at certain angles going on the rampage.
Of course, there are some filming tricks and techniques to make it look a bit more fancy than it actually is, and it is still amusing to see how they did it all, but the switches from fairly serious espionage story to what basically looks like the Smash mashed potato robots having a very slow punch-up is very jarring, both tonally and visually. Perhaps we’ve just been spoilt by the likes of Pacific Rim and Transformers?
But maybe that is overthinking it, because at its heart Robot Jox is a kid’s cartoon made into a live-action movie by a director who knows how to add just enough action, gore and humour and blend it well enough to make the 85-minute running time whizz by. So it may not hold up to modern scrutiny as well as Dolls or Cellar Dweller, but does it deserve to be in this set? Of course it does, and the amount of extra features on the disc go to show that there is a lot of love for the movie, especially for the special effects as there are a handful of interviews with various crew members covering it and, in particular, stop-motion animator David Allen, plus an archive commentary by the late Stuart Gordon.
Despite it being a mixed bag when it comes to the actual movies, what Enter the Video Store: Empire of Screams represents is the experience of going to the video shop in the 1980s and picking up one – or all – of these movies to take home and enjoy (or not, but that was the gamble and part of the experience). The lurid cover artworks, the names of actors or filmmakers you recognise, the Empire logo or even just the font of some of the titles really were enough to convince you that you were going to have a great time, and now we have the benefit of physical media being more than just the movie so we can get some background from those who were involved, we can hear the commentaries of the filmmakers or even just fans of the movies who can share their experiences, and we can put them on and relive those days whenever we feel like it, without the fear of being charged a late fee for not returning the tapes.
As box sets go, the movies might not be the greatest but Enter the Video Store: Empire of Screams is up there as one of the best physical releases of the year in terms of content and presentation as you can tell a lot of love has gone into making it – what streaming service gives you all of that content, plus an 80-page book featuring essays on the subject, art cards, posters and an Arrow Video Store membership card? – and whilst those of us old enough to want to relive those glory days will relish it, hopefully it will also pick up some new fans looking to see what it was all about.
Flickering Myth Rating – The Dungeonmaster – Film: ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Flickering Myth Rating – Dolls – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Flickering Myth Rating – Cellar Dweller – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Flickering Myth Rating – Arena – Film: ★ / Movie: ★
Flickering Myth Rating – Robot Jox – Film: ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Chris Ward
