Really Awful Movies

I’ve got Deadly Eyes…One look at you and I can’t disguise…that I’m reviewing a sh*tty 1982 tax-shelter picture in which Dachshunds and Yorkshire Terriers are dressed to look like giant killer rats.

In the 70s, the Canadian government enacted “the one-hundred-percent Capital Cost Allowance for feature films deemed certifiably Canadian. This meant that anyone who produced a film that had a Canadian Producer, two-thirds Canadian crew and talent and seventy-five percent of their technical services performed in the country could defer paying taxes on their investment until the profits started rolling in.”

The genres that benefited the most from the CCA were horror and exploitation. Quite a few great films came out of the tax-shelter era such as The Changeling, Black Christmas, Rituals, Curtains*, and the Cronenberg classics Shivers, Rabid and The Brood. But the chaff far outnumbered the wheat. Deadly Eyes is a prime example of the former.

The credits indicate that Deadly Eyes is based on the novel “Rats” by James Herbert, but the film’s screenwriter freely admits to never having read the source material. Needless to say, Herbert was not pleased with what he ended up seeing on screen; a feeling no doubt shared with audiences who plunked down their hard-earned shekels to see this shite.

So yeah, the film is about a plague of mutant rodents running rampant throughout Toronto, which as usual stands in for an unamed American city. How did the rats mutate? The explanation given is so flimsy it’s nigh transparent. Something about tainted grain (which of course only affects the rodent population.)

Almost every tax shelter film had at least one token American star and in this case it’s Scatman Crothers, fresh off The Shining. Crothers speaks about three lines before becoming rodent chow. The screenwriter, who doubled as co-producer, says that the bulk of his on-set responsibilities amounted to “making sure Scatman had enough weed” to get through the shoot.

As mentioned, the giant rats were actually dachshunds and other small dogs in rat suits. Amazingly each pup had to be individually sized and fitted for their costume. “Can I get Rover to wardrobe!” The deadlyeyes_still actors were reduced to stuffing their pockets with dog food to entice the “rats” to chase and attack them.

The most entertaining part of the film involves the city’s (non-crack smoking) mayor commemorating a subway extension (in Toronto, please!) which will go all the way to the new State Street Station, where a black-tie gala awaits complete with oompah-pah band. En route, a rat nibbles through a power cord which causes the train to go out of service. As a Torontonian who rides the subway on a daily basis, I’ve seen more than my share of giant rats and have experienced many an interminable subway delay so I appreciated the movie’s lone stab at realism.

Die Rückkehr der Killerratten, as the film is known in Germany, has pretty much nothing going for it save for the sheer ridiculousness of the costumed canines. Willard it ain’t. Shoo, Deadly Eyes, Shoo!

*1/2 (out of five)

[If you’re interested in further discussions about Canadian tax shelter horror movies, check out our chat about Curtains on the Really Awful Movies Podcast]

Why Horror? is a feature POV documentary following horror fan and friend Tal Zimerman as he delves into the psychology of this frequently maligned genre.

As he puts it on his site, “Horror entertainment instantly attracts or repulses audiences. And yet, it’s a global phenomenon.” It’s a bit like metal in that regard (for another excellent film, check out fellow Torontonian Sam Dunn’s Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey). They’re both transgressive and aggressive and have to be nearly explained away. And in both cases, you remember where you were the day you experienced them.

In my case, it was Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast and for gore, the Tobe Hooper 70s classic The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I was around 13, at my buddy Ari’s place with a bunch of friends and we managed to snag a copy from a North York strip plaza rental place, whose owner was indifferent to our age. Yes, pre-‘net trying to score a horror fix was tough.

With typical teen bravado we lamented how lame Texas was, expecting to see chainsaws carving through connective tissue. Hooper’s subtleties were lost on us but that kick-started an interest in extreme cinema that continues to this day.

What makes horror so special is that it exists on two fronts: one, the socially acceptable variety like Annabelle — tame, lacking the misogynistic tendencies of the genre, a low or absent body count, gore ratcheted down to a minimum. In short, dull. Not shoving people’s psychology to the limit like you would if you were to include the above. At the other end, the Martyrs of the world, or the New French Extremism movement, which takes its cues from the likes of Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom. Martyrs is close to unwatchable it is so depraved. Somewhere in the middle is our level of dis(comfort).

What people who denigrate the genre fail to appreciate, is the sheer variety. Personally (Chris), I prefer the biological horror genre, while Jeff’s tastes are a bit different.

There are several things that appeal to me about this subgenre: one, I studied life sciences as an undergrad, two, I like it when authority figures in government are questioned and three, the horror is often two-pronged. On the one hand, some sinister virus may break out and on the other, the government might impose a curfew or implement a quarantine. Your safety might be compromised more by the latter, especially when they’re under shoot-to-kill orders. It’s a fascinating moral question about whether the government can or should sacrifice its own to prevent the spread of some lethal bug.

In an infamous real-world example, substitute a pathogen for imperialism. In 1940, Sir Winston Churchill ordered the bombing of the French fleet in North Africa, sending 1400 sailors to their watery graves. Churchill feared the Gallic fleet would fall into Nazi hands and offered the French a deadly ultimatum.

Anyway, whatever floats your boat, horror has something to offer. Hell, who are we to begrudge the likes of well, The Grudge? (or for that matter, Annabelle). To each his/her own.

And as we’ve mentioned on numerous occasions here: horror doesn’t need a plot, doesn’t necessarily need good acting (in fact, not having it can provide much needed relief) or a choice script. All it needs to deliver is fear.

Why horror? Everyone’s got their own reasons. What about yours?