Showing posts with label Bill Johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Johnson. Show all posts

Thursday, June 11, 2015

SLEEPAWAY CAMP III: TEENAGE WASTELAND (1989) Blu-ray Review



Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland (1989) d. Michael A. Simpson (USA)

The second sequel to 1983’s Sleepaway Camp – shot back to back with its immediate predecessor (reviewed here) – sees Angela (Pamela Springsteen back again) bumping off a trampy NYC chick with a garbage truck in order to take her place at an experimental outfit where rich and poor teenagers attempt to discover common (camp)ground. If you’re thinking that Camp New Horizons’ “experience in sharing” probably won’t work out so hot, you’re on the right track. But it serves as the ideal setting for Angela to do what she does best, i.e. thin “immoral” teenagers from the herd, which is what we came here for.


Sunday, August 5, 2012

BUTCHER BOYS (aka BONEBOYS) (2012) review


Butcher Boys (aka Boneboys) (2012) (1st viewing) d. Graves, Duane / Meeks, Justin (USA)

Ferociously committed flick which comes close to recapturing the breakneck pace, nightmare imagery and go-for-broke sensory assault of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, a film it clearly emulates throughout its depiction of a group of thrillseeking youngsters menaced over the course of a night by a hostile band of leather jacket-wearing ’50s greaser thugs. This is not to say that it possesses the same instinctive strands of genius as Tobe Hooper’s modern horror masterpiece, or that the frantic juggernaut pace and violence don’t feel a more than a little manufactured at times. But with Kim Henkel (screenwriter of the 1974 film) back in the saddle as writer/producer and good ol’ boy directing team of Graves and Meeks (Wild Man of the Navidad) fearlessly doling out the shocks, there’s a lot to admire in terms of honesty and homage, especially with the sound cranked up and images looming large.

Brutal, dark and relentless, at once epic and claustrophobic, one does wish perhaps the artists had not hewn so closely to their inspirations – the “dinner scene” feels a little too on the nose and the endless parade of TCM alumni (Marilyn Burns, Ed Neal, Teri McMinn, John Dugan, Bill Johnson, etc.) prove more distracting than entertaining. (Likewise, the stream of banal profanity spewed by our bonkers band also proves ineffective; one wishes Henkel would have cut the b-words and c-words by 200%.)

A movie destined to divide audiences, but one whose enthusiasm registered loud and clear within this horror heart.