NIGHTMARES DVD Review

If you accidentally slit your mother's throat after accidentally causing a car crash, you might be traumatized too.

On January 26, 1963, young Helen walks in on her mother, thrusting naked on top of her boyfriend in bed. That's terribly upsetting for a child, of course. One month later, Helen wakes up in the back seat of a car and sees a man apparently molesting her mother, who's driving. She wants to protect her mommy, but, instead ... crash! bang! Broken glass, blood, and guilt commingle in a toxic mix that guarantees Helen will suffer from horrendous nightmares for the rest of her life.

1980's Nightmares, released in the UK as Stage Fright, is a prime slice of classic Ozploitation. It dashes through its set-up at a fever pitch, aided and abetted by the rapid-fire editing (by Colin Eggleston) and the pulse-pounding musical score by the great Brian May (Patrick, Mad Max, Thirst). Written by jack-of-all-filmmaking trades Colin Eggleston (The Long Weekend) and directed by John Lamond (distribution expert turned filmmaker with the softcore The ABC of Love and Sex: Australia Style), Nightmares never forgets that it's an exploitation flick, which doesn't keep it from being a seriously-entertaining thriller.

"The-a-tuh is not television," intones pompous director George D'alberg (Max Phipps) to Terry (Gary Sweet), a soap opera actor who is auditioning for a role in a stage play that's "a comedy about death." The happy-go-lucky Terry meets the grown-up Helen backstage, and when both are cast, they begin a romance. Helen puts off Terry's physical advances indefinitely; she clearly has "issues."

Helen, in fact, is so clearly "off" it's a testament to Terry's dimness that he never notices. She's prone to visiting him late at night, letting herself into his apartment, stealing a kiss, and then running off for no apparent reason. And then there's her habit of disappearing in the middle of a date and running home to talk to herself angrily in a variety of voices.

Nope, nothing there strange at all.

To reinforce Helen's disturbed mental state, Helen has frequent flashbacks to her nightmares, during which she gets a faraway look in her eyes. Usually, those moments are accompanied by POV shots of a killer stalking human prey, the gliding Steadicam and heavy breathing on the soundtrack offering additional clues that a female version of Michael Myers is on the loose in and around the the-a-tuh.

There's nary a moment to catch your breath before the filmmakers simply won't permit it. Nightmares is a wild ride, careening from one scene to the next at breakneck pace, with generous doses of nudity and an emphasis on sharp-edged thrills. The film's self-aware humor embraces theatrical superstitions with aplomb, and Jenny Neuman's unpolished performance as Helen, which often shades into hysteria with off-key line readings, accented by the whites of her eyes, matches the overheated tone of the movie.

Watch out for that broken glass!