Brain Damage

braindamagedvdscanA lamprey symbiont attaches itself to the cerebrospinal fluid of a host, injecting him with psychedelic visions. If THAT premise doesn’t get your juices flowing, you won’t care for the impudent, weirdly compelling little movie, Brain Damage.

The follow up to Basket Case, Frank Henenlotter, on a bigger budget and a bigger, better idea, tops his previous effort. And that’s saying something. Basket Case is an undeniable gem, even if the creature’s obviously operated by hand puppet.

In Brain Damage, “Alymer” is hungry, and has escaped his owners’ seedy Bronx apartment unit and taken up residence at the abode of one Brian (Rick Hearst). The creature, a kind of tubular geoduck/rotten ice-cream cone with teeth, affixes itself to his neck, giving him unbelievable highs.

Under the influence, Brian heads over to the local scrapyard to take in the spectacular drug-induced auras, the night sky and rusty wrecks lit up with his visions. But it’s there, the creature’s lust for human brains takes hold, sucking the cerebrum out of the facility’s hapless security guard.

Brian, it turns out, has made a Faustian pact with Aylmer: in exchange for psychedelic highs, he’s the courier that gets the monster into closer proximity with human victims.

And it’s bad enough the juice is taking its toll. An allegory for heroin withdrawal, Brian gets desensitized to the infusions and his relationships (including that with girlfriend Barbara) suffer for it. But it’s the heavy moral toll of his nightly excursions that’s dragging him down, an accomplice to a creature that while lovable, has an appetite for human flesh.

It’s this appetite that provides Brain Damage with some incredible kills.

In a pharmaceutical fog, Brian steps out into a punk club, suited up like a Wall Street salary man, and meets up with a lady who’s good to go. They step outside, she unbuttons his pants, goes down and Aylmer goes to town in one of the most audacious and disgusting scenes in all of horror.

Gonzo, go-get-’em horror and a near-classic.

***3/4 (out of 5)

[For those who are interested, check out our BRAIN DAMAGE podcast discussion on the Really Awful Movies Podcast]

Burnt Offerings

burnt_offerings“Noah built an altar to the Lord, and taking some of the clean animals and clean birds, he sacrificed burnt offerings on it…” (Genesis 8:20-1)

In 1976’s Burnt Offerings, the Rolf family is sacrificed. No ROFL-ing matter. Their spirits are consumed by a real fixer-upper they agree to be custodians of over the summer (a house that was actually used in the exemplary Don Coscarelli film, Phantasm, as well).

Now we cannot stress this enough, people in horror movies: If it’s too good to be true, it usually is! Case in point, being offered what appears to be a relative steal, $900, to take up accommodations in a sprawling neo-Colonial mansion for the summer. The only catch? Having to look after a seemingly self-sufficient octogenarian in the attic.

There’s always a catch.

Unfortunately, the Rolfs don’t smell a rat, and sign on, giving the abode a good once-over cleaning, and fishing out debris from the unused pool. Ben Rolf even mulls over being able to finally make a dent in that doctorate.

Burnt Offerings is a rare breed indeed, a ceaselessly compelling and tightly-wound supernatural horror. A lot of supernatural horrors sacrifice (speaking of sacrifice), deep psychological fears to capture a youth demographic. And PG-13 stuff usually reeks like boiled cabbage. Sorry, but it’s true.

Household head Ben (Oliver Reed), is driven to madness during his duties overseeing the upkeep of this mansion, yes, the comparisons to Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining are darn-near inevitable. And when carnal relations with his missus go south, and he tries to coerce her, that’s exactly the point where the film departs/diverges from the path usually trod upon by its brethren.

Oliver Reed is amazing. Unlike Jack Nicholson’s Jack Torrance, whose madness is tipped off from the very first frame, Reed’s performance as a doting dad really rings true. Also, Karen Black is the very picture of stability, if a bit Stepford.

Ben is trying desperately to keep his mental faculties together, as whatever spirits lurk inside the mansion, compels him to try to drown his son.

Bonus: Bette Davis.

***1/2 (out of 5)

[CHECK OUT OUR BURNT OFFERINGS PODCAST, FEATURING SCOTT DREBIT OF DAILY DEAD]