Rabid  (1977)

David Cronenberg’s follow-up to Shivers follows similar story lines with a slightly larger budget:  Medical experimentation leads to mutations, which lead to mass infection and hysteria.  In this case, former porn actress Marilyn Chambers (who, yes, shows a fair amount of her…um…talents) stars as the victim of a motorcycle accident who, following an experimental skin graft, inexplicably develops a stinger-like appendage in her armpit.  She spends the rest of the movie seducing others into killer hugs, infecting them and turning them into zombie-like creatures seeking blood.  The epidemic spreads, turning downtown Montreal into a battle zone, culminating in a memorable shootout at the local shopping mall.  While Chambers acquits herself admirably in her only “legitimate” role, the same cannot be said of the rest of the cast, especially Frank Moore as her dullard of a boyfriend.  This cheap-looking, bizarre film does little in the way of explaining itself, and often leaves the viewer asking, “What?”  Typical Cronenberg grotesqueries and gore abound, with a head-scratching, downbeat ending.

Ravenous (1999)

“It’s lonely being a cannibal. Tough making friends.”  Director Antonia Bird serves up heaping helpings of black comedy and gory carnage in this hilarious, edgy period horror.  Set in the waning days of the Mexican-American War, Guy Pearce’s cowardly Army captain is stationed at a remote outpost in the Sierra Nevadas where daily routine is stultifying dull…until Robert Carlyle staggers in from the wilderness with tales of survival that would turn the hardiest soul into a vegetarian.  A clever combo of mysticism, vampirism and cannibalism, with Bird’s superb cast (including Jeffrey Jones, David Arquette, Jeremy Davies, and Neal McDonough) licking their lips and devouring Ted Griffin’s script with gusto.  A decidedly underrated flick, the picturesque  exteriors are provided by  Slovakia’s Tatras Mountains, standing in for the Pacific Northwest.

Raw Meat (aka Deathline)  (1972)

An intriguing little curiosity item from across the pond about a dwindling tribe of cannibals living in the deserted tunnels in the London Underground, who occasionally make off with unsuspecting Brits for munching.  Fans of British cinema will enjoy the authentic feel of urban London, seen through the lens of director Gary Sherman’s excellent roving camerawork.  Donald Pleasance has a lot of fun hamming it up in a bizarre, meandering performance as a tippling police inspector, and Hugh Armstrong’s intense and sympathetic portrayal of the “tunnel man” prompts comparisons to Karloff’s Frankenstein monster.  Christopher Lee uses his strong presence to great effect in a cameo as a government inspector.  The only casting stumble is dull David Ladd as a repellent American, who the filmmakers sadly intended to be the film’s hero.  Terrific funky proto-electric sound score by Jeremy Rose and Will Malone.  A different kind of cannibal film, not particularly gory or scary, but certainly with a flavor all its own. 

Reflecting Skin, The  (1990)

A cerebral, challenging film that examines the bleak and beautiful nightmare of childhood.  Award-winning playwright/author/painter Philip Ridley envisions the American Midwest of the 50’s as a wasteland devoid of moral compasses and populated by bizarre characters.  Here, the monsters are everywhere but where we look for them, the beauty of the landscape masking the darkness that lurks beneath.  Jeremy Cooper stars as the nine-year old protagonist who possesses a child’s inherently dark-yet-innocent sadistic streak (one of the opening images is of he and his chums inflating and exploding an unfortunate frog).  Suspecting the strange isolated foreign widow on the hill to be a vampire (always dressed in black, avoids the sun, despises her reflection), Cooper is horrified when his war-rattled brother (Viggo Mortenson) begins to keep company with her.  Meanwhile, a sinister black Cadillac cruises the tranquil country roads, and children begin to disappear.  Dick Pope’s staggering sepia-toned cinematography provides a dreamlike feel to the film, depicting a hollow, lifeless world drained of its rich colors.  A world that is, in a word, ill.  Nick Bic(a)t’s haunting, near-operatic choral-and-strings score augments the eerie mood.  Symbolism runs rampant throughout a multitude of highly suspenseful scenes, with Ridley painting an oppressive and unpleasant Gothic atmosphere so thick it sticks in the throat.  Told with a terrifying child’s logic, this is not an easy film to sit through, and certainly not for those in the mood for mindless fun.  Although the final sequence borders on the melodramatic, it bravely sums up the isolation and hopelessness that has gone before.  Highly recommended for discerning viewers.

Relic, The  (1997)

Word to the wise:  you’ll want to bring your own flashlight to this fairly routine urban monster thriller.  In addition to director Peter Hyams murky photography, the ideas and characters supplied by the four (count ‘em, four) screenwriters are so hopelessly dim, you’ll be bumping into the walls trying to find the nearest exit.  Without an original concept in the mix, the film relies completely on every monster-created-by-science-on-the-loose cliché.  The one-note characters are all here:  the beautiful but resourceful scientist (Penelope Ann Miller), the wisecracking disbelieving cop (Tom Sizemore), the transparently Machiavellian bureaucrat (Linda Hunt), and the wise-yet-doomed old codger (James Whitmore).  The wacky science-gone-wild plot involves a genetically-hybrid carnivorous beastie lurking around the oh-so-shadowy corridors of Chicago’s Field Museum, tearing off the heads of expendable bit players in order to suck out their hypothalamus glands.  (We know it’s the hypothalamus glands that the creature is after because the staggeringly talky script manages to work in the word “hypothalamus” approximately 187 times, certainly a record of some kind.)  One of the film’s few assets is the plentiful, if underlit, use of Chicago locations.  Another is an amusingly over-the-top crowd panic scene when the security systems go haywire at the museum’s gala opening, locking the black-tie crowd inside with the munch-hungry mutant.  Of course, this allows the filmmakers to put Miller in a slinky black cocktail dress for her inevitable effects-laden showdown with Stan Winston’s messy, freakish creation, featuring massive explosions, roaring galore, and the kinkiest tongue bath on record. 

Return of the Living Dead, The  (1985)

Alien screenwriter Dan O’Bannon makes his directing debut with this wildly exuberant black comedy that mixes terrific comic performances with good old-fashioned flesh chomping.  With a nod to zombie kingpin George Romero(courtesy of Night of the Living Dead co-writer John Russo), medical warehouse worker James Karen reveals to protégé Thom Matthews that NOTLD was actually based on a true story, stemming from a reanimating chemical.  And wouldn’t you know it, there just happens to be one canister left downstairs.  Before you can say, “don’t touch that,” corpses are licking their moldering lips, and unlike the lumbering somnambulists of old, these zombies move with a purpose.  Understanding the rhythms of both comedy and horror, O’Bannon nimbly balances his fast, furious, and funny scenes with well-chosen breathers amid the mayhem. Don Calfa is a laugh riot as curmudgeonly mortician Ernie, and Clu Gulager is marvelous as Burt, the bewildered warehouse boss.  As a member of a gang of party-hearty 80’s punk rockers, B-movie queen Linnea Quigley became every horror geek’s dream date with her nubile in-the-buff graveyard gyrations.  The zombies themselves are savage and savagely funny, braying for “Brains!” with gusto while our unlikely heroes scramble for their lives.  Great gory makeup effects, hilarious slapstick energy and a thrilling climax made this a genre fave, spawning numerous sequels. 

Robot Monster  (1953)

Oh joy, oh rapture, oh Ro-Man!  Don’t be fooled by the low star ratings elsewhere, for while this is not a good movie (it rivals Plan Nine from Outer Space for the all-time Golden Turkey Award), it is so hilariously awful that it simply must be seen to be believed.  When you see in the credits, “Automatic Billion Bubble Machine provided by….,” you know you’re in for a treat.  When Ro-Man (the “monster” of the title) shows up as a guy in an oversized ape suit with a diving helmet on his head, you know you’re witnessing a legend in the making.  Combine the howlingly bad acting of the entire “Hu-Man” ensemble, the mind-boggling stock footage of dinosaurs fighting, the shirtless wedding, and the crazy gesturing of Ro-Man (completely independent of his dubbed voice), well, you’ll be lucky if you don’t rupture yourself laughing.  Just when you think it couldn’t get any more bizarre or surreal, director/producer Phil Tucker bumps it up another notch on the goof-a-meter.  (Speaking of surreal, the musical score is by none other than future Oscar-winner Elmer Bernstein.)  Reportedly shot in four days for $16,000, using a script written in thirty minutes by Wyott Ordung, this has become one of the most beloved and infamous Z-grade movies of all time—and it’s only an hour and six minutes!  Don’t miss it.

Rodan  (1956)

Ishiro Honda’s follow up to his two successful outings of the Big G, reassembling much of the original Gojira team, including f/x man Eiji Tsuburaya and composer Akira Ifukube.  The first kaiju eija filmed in color, it found the same worldwide success as its b/w predecessors.  While the giant winged titular monsters (yes, there are two, though many often forget this) are a little ungainly at times, the scenes of destruction caused by their supersonic flight are just as astonishing, although they certainly lack the dread of the earlier films – instead, the scenes seem to be played purely for thrills.  In addition to the Rodan (changed from the original “Radon” spelling for Western audiences to avoid confusion with a brand of soap), there are the creepy crawling giant insects discovered in the same mining cave where the eggs are first discovered.  The only small quibble (though this would have never occurred to me growing up) is that Rodan has yet to receive the loving DVD treatment that his bipedal friend has come to enjoy:  Full-frame and English-dubbed seem to be the only R1 options available at present.