Check out our look at four of the latest releases from kickass home video distributor, Vinegar Syndrome. On today's list is '90s horror comedy Jack Frost, '70s gonzo action blasterpiece Death Machines, grimy slasher Don't Answer the Phone, and early '70s look behind the green door Blue Money.
Vinegar Syndrome ventures out of their ‘70s-‘80s comfort zone with their Blu-ray release of 1997’s killer snowman horror-comedy, Jack Frost. Directed by Michael Cooney, the film was a staple of the late VHS era home video market but was just too damned silly to make any kind of lasting impression until now. If anything, the film has survived largely due to a few comically absurd kills and the presence of ‘90s It Girl, Shannon Elizabeth, immediately before she became a household name following her appearance American Pie. Upon reappraisal, however, the film has aged pretty well – though I know many will disagree – and earns a place among the more memorable DTV horrors of the late ‘90s largely because it doesn’t take itself too seriously.
When a prisoner transport truck carrying notorious serial killer Jack Frost (Scott MacDonald) crashes with a truck carrying experimental genetic material on a snowy road in the small town of Snowmonton, an unlikely series of events leads to the death and resurrection of Frost who is a bit sore about having been removed from the outside world by Sheriff Sam Tiler. Frost comes back to life after his DNA bonds with the snow on the ground and turns him into a human snowman with a bad attitude and some special skills that leave cops baffled when he restarts his killing spree. Tiler and his family start to notice the pattern and realize that Frost is closing in on them. The sudden spike in bizarre, unsolved murders brings the feds to Snowmonton and the race is on to stop Frost, if only they can figure out how.
I remember overlooking the film on rental store shelves when I was a teenager because, frankly, it looked really stupid. Here’s the rub though, it really is quite stupid, but it’s also a lot of fun, something that my seventeen year old self might not have been able to realize. Cooney’s script is willfully daft, and the performers in the film all appear to be in on the joke, which makes the film work in ways it should not. I had a lot of fun with this X-mas obsessed slasher that packs a surprising amount of blood and guts into its short run time.
The Disc:
Vinegar Syndrome never half-asses anything, and their Blu-ray of Jack Frost is the definitive edition that literally no one was asking for, but we are better off for having it anyway. The image quality is shockingly good, especially considering the fact that the film was shot for almost nothing. The audio is also solid, but the low budget means that it’s pretty unimpressive in a general sense.
VS stacks the disc with enough bonus material to make fans very, very happy. There is an audio commentary and intro with director Cooney, who is happy to discuss the evolution of the project and some failed plans to make a bigger splash than they did when big names like Renny Harlin backed out. We also get interviews from lead actor MacDonald and DP Dean Lent who share plenty of fun stories about the production of the film.
Vinegar Syndrome have become industry leading experts in giving little known and underappreciated films home video releases that often outstrip their cultural significance. Jack Frost’s excellent disc definitely fits into that category. Highly recommended.
Death Machines is not what I thought it was.
Another video rental store staple when I was growing up was Paul Kyriazi’s Death Machines, not to be confused with Chris Norrington’s killer robot slasher Death Machine. In this 1977 action blasterpiece, the titular Death Machines are a trio of genetically augmented assassins tasked with protecting their mistress, the archetypal dragon lady Madame Lu, by any means necessary. Everything from killer kung fu to rifles to bazookas are used to dispatch her enemies, and it’s a glorious bloody mess.
As a kid, whenever I passed by this particular artwork when shopping for my weekend fix of crazy horror, I was more than a little confused when I saw the cover art. Anyone who spent as much time in video stores as I did will no doubt recognize the iconic but incredibly non-representative image of some kind of toothed crushing machine literally chewing people up and spitting them out. That image didn’t say anything to me about the film, but I can say now that I really should’ve taken the plunge much earlier because Death Machines is a real treat for fans of sleazy, gonzo, mid-‘70s action. If you enjoyed Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray release of the crazy Raw Force or their DVD release of Death Force, you’ll love Death Machines.
The Disc:
Death Machines has been scanned and restored in 4K from the original camera negative by Vinegar Syndrome and the results are, as usual, incredible. The film has likely never looked this good, with amazing colors from its unmistakably ‘70s palette and crisp detail filling every frame, Death Machines is a joy to behold.
As if the pot weren’t sweet enough, Vinegar Syndromes add a healthy dose of bonus material to the package, making this the definitive edition of the film. We get a commentary from director Kyriazi who shares plenty of stories about the production and sometimes baffling marketing of the film. We also get interviews with a couple of the Death Machines themselves, Michael Chong (the Asian Death Machine), and Joshua Johnson (the Black Death Machine). We round it off with a pair of trailers and this is a great little set for a film that should hopefully find a new audience with this release.
Don’t Answer the Phone is one sleazy-ass movie.
This is the kind of filth that could only have been made in that wild wasteland of bad taste that was the cusp of the ‘80s, and that is why Vinegar Syndrome are the perfect choice to resurrect the film from the dead and put a new spotlight on this unpleasant gem. Lead by one-and-done writer/director Robert Hammer, Don’t Answer the Phone is an atmospheric slasher featuring a powerhouse performance by the man who would be Swamp Thing, Nicholas Worth.
Kirk Smith (Worth) is a photographer by day, maniac strangler by night. Fueled by a combination of religious fervor and Vietnam induced PTSD, Kirk tears through Los Angeles, luring pretty girls to their dooms under the guise of fashion photography. He gets his thrills first with the kill, and then adds to his experience by describing the murders live, on air, to a local radio shrink at which point the pressure begins to build. In steps Lt. McCabe (James Westmoreland) to stop Smith’s reign of terror, but how many will die in the meantime?
Unlike its immediate contemporaries in the slasher world like Halloween and Friday the 13th, Don’t Answer the Phone has no illusions about being a fun ride. This is a sleaze machine in high gear. It’s definitely more tonally similar to films like The Toolbox Murders, Driller Killer, and Maniac. If that whets your appetite, this film will definitely hit the spot. Between the all-in performance of Worth as the hulking maniac who talks to himself while pumping iron in his home and the unrepentant lurking eye of cinematographer James L. Carter’s camera, there’s a lot to enjoy for fans of a certain bent.
The Disc:
Restored in 4K from the original camera negative, Don’t Answer the Phone looks far better than anyone could’ve possibly imagined a film of this type ever would. Detail, clarity, and color all get a boost from previously available home video editions, including improving on a relatively recent Blu-ray release from another company.
The disc is loaded with great extras that serve well to add context to an already fascinating film. Director Hammer appears in both a filmed introduction as well as a feature length audio commentary which is informative and engaging. However, my favorite extra is a great interview with Worth, who talks at length not only about his work on this film, but a long career in the movie business. Worth is engaging and endearing, even when he’s somewhat baffled by the cult success of this film. We also get an isolated score for the film and a 16 page booklet with writing from genre veteran Michael Gingold as well as a ton of interesting promotional artifacts from the film.
Don’t Answer the Phone is one of my favorite recent Vinegar Syndrome releases and belongs on the shelf of any self-respecting exploitation fan.
Alain Patrick’s Blue Money is a fascinating film that captures a particular moment in the early ‘70s underground film scene with unusual clarity.
Jim is a hard-working husband and father who is struggling to make a living to provide for his wife and daughter while trying to sock away some money to fix up his boat so that he and his family can spend the rest of their lives sailing the open sea. The problem is that Jim’s vocation, is that he works in the world of underground, illegal sex films. At a time when the adult film industry is on the verge of exploding into the popular consciousness with 1972’s Deep Throat, Jim’s little movies are getting him and his partner in big trouble. Add to that the decreased willingness of theaters to take on his product and steeply declining demand leading to lower return on investment and all of Jim’s dreams feeling less possible every day.
Blue Money was produced by adult film legend Bob Chinn, the man cemented John Holmes’ stardom with his Johnny Wadd series. This is not a hardcore film, it’s a family drama set in the grimy world of underground hardcore film production. As such it’s a fascinating and unique film that deals with largely the largely unseen forces that collaborated in getting that material to the market.
The film was written, directed by, and stars Alain Patrick, who had a decent career as a character actor, but Blue Money was his baby. Was he the best choice to star in the film? In retrospect maybe not. I’d guess it was a combination of factors that put him in front of the camera. Probably a little bit of ego, but I’m guessing largely the idea that this was his story and no one else would know exactly how to play it. The result is a bit of a stilted performance from Patrick, but convincing enough that it doesn’t made a huge dent in the film.
Patrick’s film deals a lot with the banal ins-and-outs of the hardcore business, turning it from a seemingly glamorous industry full of beautiful people into the grindy subterranean sleazepot it often was. For that reason alone, it’s worth checking out this side of the industry that is often hinted at, but never fully exposed.
The Disc:
Blue Money comes to Blu-ray for the first time through Vinegar Syndrome’s impeccably restored new 2K restoration. The film looks quite good, considering its no-budget origins. The disc maintains the overall “brown”ness of ‘70s productions enough to feel accurate. The audio is less impressive, presumably owing to deterioration of the archival materials, but it is passable, dropouts and odd editing choices notwithstanding.
Vinegar Syndrome makes this disc worth your money by adding not only a great interview with Bob Chinn in which he discusses the film, but also an entire bonus feature from Alain Patrick. The Affairs of Aphrodite is an earlier softcore period piece that is largely unremarkable apart from its connection to Blue Money. The bonus feature is in considerably worse condition, with a lot of print damage, but I can’t say I’m terribly disappointed because no amount of lipstick could’ve saved that pig.
While I really enjoyed all of the films in this month’s look at Vinegar Syndrome, Blue Money is hands down the most interesting, and for that reason alone, I’m giving it a high recommendation for fans of the sleazier side of cinema