Every single month, independent home video heroes Vinegar Syndrome release a stack of oddball discs that alternately titillate and petrify cult film fans across North America. Is every film a gem? God, no. But the thrill of discovery is sometimes the name of the game. We've decided that the best way to serve you, the readers, is to provide a monthly round-up of Vin Syn's digital transgressions against good taste in an effort to help you decide where best to spend your money.
Since we're starting off a little behind, these first few columns will come at you weekly, but hopefully we can get back to a monthly schedule in the coming weeks. In this first edition of Sorting Out The Syns, we'll tackle Australian high fashion modeling thriller Snapshot, Joe Sarno's mystical sexploiter Red Roses of Passion, A.C Stephen's Orgy of the Dead (written by Ed Wood), wackadoo horror comedy Psychos in Love, and forgotten '80s teen comedy My Chauffeur.
Snapshot, alternately titled The Day After Halloween for no good reason at all, is an Australian thriller set in the world of high fashion exploitation. Angela (Sigrid Thornton) is hard up for cash until she takes a modeling gig - against her better judgment - for a hi-falutin' perfume campaign. Her entry into the world of modeling is beset by problems. Creepy dudes keep trying, and often succeeding, to get her to take her clothes off for the camera with promises of greater fame and fortune, a disapproving mother rears her nasty head, and drugs and alcohol are around every corner. And then there are the murders...
Angela is in way over her head and has no idea how to get out of this cyclone of dysfunction, but she's pretty sure not everyone is getting out alive.
Snapshot is a surprisingly tense film that, while it isn't exactly horror, definitely fits a lot of the sleazier horror-exploitation plot lines to a tee. The "exotic" locales in the film give it a nice flavor, and there is some genuine tension built through the smart and well-written screenplay. I dug it.
The Disc:
I'm only going to say this part once, because it fits across all of the discs:
Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of the film is exceptional, their new 2K restoration looks as good, or likely even better, than you could possibly imagine. The original audio is clear and well-defined with dialogue coming through beautifully. I have yet to be disappointed with the A/V presentation of any Vinegar Syndrome release, even when the film is less than stellar.
Vin Syn also does a great job stacking their discs with extras, and this is no exception. We get a great commentary track from Simon Wincer (director), Tony Ginnane (producer), Sigrid Thornton (lead actress), and Vincent Morton (cinematographer) that is informative and jovial and gives depth to the listeners understanding the film and the shooting conditions. The Blu-ray also includes the longer Australian version of the film from a video source, a note at the beginning of the disc mentions that when the film was recut for North American audiences, the original negative was recut to fit that version, leaving no 35mm elements. We also get an interview with producer Tony Ginnane, and extended interview outtakes from Mark Hartley's landmark Not Quite Hollywood documentary on Australian exploitation.
Snapshot isn't quite as exploitative as a lot of Australian films of the era, or even most of Vinegar Syndrome's other releases, but it does feel like a slightly downmarket Silence of the Lambs, if that's the kind of thing that tickles your fancy.
Labeled as "Sexploitation Signature Series #1", exploitation legend Joe Sarno's Red Roses of Passion is an odd little film that delivers its fair share of sleaze while still giving the audience a little bit to think about.
Free-wheeling young Carla feels trapped by her home life, where she's lorded over by a spinster aunt and a prissy sissy who's textbook chaste romance makes Carla want to gag. In an effort to bring something new into her sad life, Carla visits a fortune teller with a friend and is quickly swept up into a mysterious cult of Pan that thrives on physical and sexual hedonism to the expulsion of everything else in their lives. When the cult leader offers to loosen up the reins being held by Carla's guardian, things start to get crazy as her previously frigid aunt becomes a ravenous sex machine obsessed with the touch of a red rose and the man who brings it to her. Soon enough, Carla is free from the chains that bound her, but is she stepping into another kind of servitude at the feet of the psychic and her god Pan?
Sleazy, sexy, mystical, but never outright vulgar, Red Roses of Passion is a fascinating and literate film from one of the '60s most prolific filmmakers. A bit harder than the adorable nudie cuties of the late '50s and early '60s but a hair shy of the roughies that followed, this film is a great little low budget adventure into the mind of the liberated woman. I really liked this one a lot.
The Disc:
Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of the film is exceptional, their new 2K restoration looks as good, or likely even better, than you could possibly imagine. The original audio is clear and well-defined with dialogue coming through beautifully. I have yet to be disappointed with the A/V presentation of any Vinegar Syndrome release, even when the film is less than stellar.
While on the surface, the extras looks pretty lighton this disc, the one that is presented is quite good. The sole included extra is an interview with Sarno biographer Michael Bowen, who spends a little over twenty minutes discussing the film's place in Sarno's career as well as the performers involved and a lot of minutiae that really helps give context to the film. Definitely worth checking out.
Red Roses of Passion is a definite recommendation from me.
In 1994, Tim Burton's delightful comedic biography of cult filmmaker Ed Wood rolled out to theaters, where it was largely ignored by the massed but adored by critics. It was a watershed moment for me, however, as I had been traumatized since childhood by Wood's magnum opus, Plan 9 From Outer Space. When I was seven years old, my father - newly divorced and head of the bachelor pad household we'd made together - showed me Plan 9 with the reasonable expectation that I'd laugh as much as he did and would be able to share in his joy of the film. However, I was a complete pussy at that age and instead of picking up on the camp acting and pitiful production value, I was instead terrified that space vampires were going to come for me while I slept.
I had nightmares for months and ended up building myself a laser gun out of Lego bricks to hide under my pillow just in case they came for me. Dad felt miserable, he thought he'd broken me, but in reality it was a combination of a new situation away from my mother and sisters and a fragile ego that ended up with me in a pitiful ball of tears at the end of what's widely considered to be the worst movie ever made. When Ed Wood came out and Dad took me to see it when I was 15, I was - for the first time - able to peel back the curtain and laugh at my own long-held misery. An odd story, but one that is important to consider when discussing Vinegar Syndrome's newish Blu-ray release of Ed Wood's Orgy of the Dead.
After the release of Ed Wood, there was renewed interest in this campy filmmaker who's entire oeuvre had existed on the fringes of acknowledgment for decades, Burton's film legitimized Wood, and there was a flood of product onto video store shelves shortly thereafter. One of the first home video releases, oddly, wasn't an Ed Wood directed film, but the Rhino Records VHS of A.C. Stephen's Orgy of the Dead, a film written by Wood and starring Plan 9 leading man, Criswell. This film was irresistible to a 15-year-old Charlie, and I immediately ran off to the Suncoast in my local mall and grabbed a copy. It didn't matter what was on the tape, but the description of the film as an "orgy" and the promise of naked ladies was like catnip to my adolescent brain.
Well, suffice it to say that Orgy of the Dead was the film that first showed me that naked ladies can, in fact, be boring as hell, and the film has gone down as both a treasured memory of my sexual maturation, and one of my greatest disappointments.
In case you've never seen the film, here's the plot, such as it is:
A couple are driving down the road on the way to a haunted site as the man is a writer of horror fiction, but the woman is not quite sold on the idea and insists that they turn around. In the process of abandoning the mission, the pair crash and end up in a haunted cemetery as The Emperor (Criswell) and the Black Ghoul (Fawn Silver) preside over a series of undead striptease performances in an effort to please the dark lord before the sun comes up. A dozen lovely ladies dance for far too long with little to no energy to music that can best be described as dreary for an HOUR AND A HALF. It's truly one of the most boring spectacles I've ever put myself through, in spite of the ridiculous volume of naked flesh on display.
The Disc:
Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of the film is exceptional, their new 2K restoration looks as good, or likely even better, than you could possibly imagine. The original audio is clear and well-defined with dialogue coming through beautifully. I have yet to be disappointed with the A/V presentation of any Vinegar Syndrome release, even when the film is less than stellar.
There are three bonus features on the disc, though, if I'm being honest, only two are of any real value. First up is a feature commentary with director Frank Henenlotter (Basket Case, Brain Damage) and Ed Wood biographer Rudolph Grey. The commentary is FAR more entertaining than the film, thanks in large part to Henenlotter genial presence, unfortunately, Grey's audio is compromised and quite difficult to hear for most of the feature. However, both contributors have a lot to say and I'm glad I've heard it. The other significant and really quite charming extra is an interview with actress Nadejda Dobrev, who plays one of the dancing dead. It's a surprisingly entertaining interview and well worth checking out. The third extra is a super brief talk with director Ted V. Mikels about his tangential relation to the production. You can skip that one.
Would I recommend Orgy of the Dead? God, no. It's a terrible film. The disc, on the other hand, presents a few decent arguments for a place in your collection. If you don't mind suffering through the film itself, the extras on this disc are a lot of fun. Make up your own mind.
Another relic of my days as a teenager trawling the shelves at the local video store is Gorman Bechard's Psychos in Love.
Every cinephile of a certain age - let's say those between 35 and 50-something - has hundreds of fond memories of pacing up and down the aisles at any number of mom-and-pop video stores in their youth looking for the perfect thrill. The only thing we had to go on in those godforsaken days before the capital "I"-Internet were the box covers, and Psychos in Love always intrigued me. I will say that though I was a budding cineaste, I was also - as mentioned in the previous slide - a complete pussy, so horror films were always the forbidden fruit until I was in the latter half of my high school years. Which is when I finally built up the gumption to rent Psychos in Love, and I never looked back.
The story goes as such:
Joe (Carmine Capobianco) runs a strip club, and Kate (Debi Thibeault) is a manicurist, but they have a common hobby. MURDER. These two outcasts feel like loners until they bond over their love of serial slaughter and a mutual loathing of grapes (!?) at which point they decide that the only thing to do is get on with their lives together. Things get complicated when a cannibal stumbles onto their obsessions, but they never forget to smile, which is really the only way to keep a relationship working. Through numerous trials and tribulations, Joe and Katie struggle to make it work and remain forever, Psychos in Love.
If you've seen prior Vin Syn release Deathrow Gameshow, or even Arrow Video's Return of the Killer Tomatoes, you know what you're in for with Psychos in Love. This film doesn't take itself seriously for a single second and that is the secret to it's success. It's a delightful black comedy with tons of blood and guts and a wonderfully dumb sense of humor. I adore this movie.
The Disc:
Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of the film is exceptional, their new 2K restoration looks as good, or likely even better, than you could possibly imagine. The original audio is clear and well-defined with dialogue coming through beautifully. I have yet to be disappointed with the A/V presentation of any Vinegar Syndrome release, even when the film is less than stellar.
Thankfully, director Gordon Bechard and leading man Carmine Capobianco are heavily involved in this new release of the film, so the extras are - as the kids say - on fleek. We get a feature commentary from the duo as well as a solo Bechard tack, both of which are awesome and a lot of fun. We also get A GODDAMNED TON of interviews, convention footage, outtakes, deleted scenes, introductions, making-of featurettes, and short films to go along with this long admired but sadly ignored classic. Amazingly, there is also a rare booklet with essays from Art Ettinger and Matt Desiderio that are well worth your time. This is 100% the definitive release of this film and I couldn't be happier that this exists.
Psychos in Love is a no-brainer. Highly recommended.
Whatever happened to Deborah Foreman?
The leading lady of one of the defining teen comedies of the '80s, the Nic Cage starrer Valley Girl, kind of disappeared as the decade that birthed her celebrity faded away. I've asked myself several times over the years where she went, though I was honestly never curious enough to follow up, otherwise I might have stumbled upon David Beaird's My Chauffeur.
In this over-the-top farce, Foreman stars as Casey Meadows, a young girl plucked from obscurity to work as a chauffeur to the stars at Brentwood Limousine Limited. She has no idea why she's been recruited, and the old boy's club she's infiltrated are even more puzzled by her presence than she is. She's the quintessential '80s valley girl even here, as she ruffles musty old feathers in her treatment of the company's prestigious (often lecherous) clientele only to discover that she has more in common with the big shots than she ever knew. A couple dozen complicated plot twists later she discovers that she might be in love, but will a history of incest derail that dream of happily ever after? My Chauffeur really wants to keep you guessing, so who am I to argue?
The Disc:
Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of the film is exceptional, their new 2K restoration looks as good, or likely even better, than you could possibly imagine. The original audio is clear and well-defined with dialogue coming through beautifully. I have yet to be disappointed with the A/V presentation of any Vinegar Syndrome release, even when the film is less than stellar.
As expected (at this point in their illustrious career), Vinegar Syndrome lands some amazing extras for My Chauffeur. First up is a commentary track with director Beaird and co-star Leland Crooke which is entertaining on its own. However, anyone with any sense will agree that the key figure is Deborah Foreman, and she features in an interview about the film that is enlightening and entertaining as one should expect. We also get an isolated score audio track and several trailers and TV spots to round out the package.
My Chauffeur is a really fun film that both benefits from and is drug down by the presence of a very young Penn and Teller in an inexplicable 20 minute cameo. Well, I hated that part, but if there are P&T enthusiasts out there, you'll need this one to complete your collection for sure. Recommended.