Census Bloodbath: Animal House Of Death

Year: 1982

Director: Michael Miller

Cast: Gerrit Graham, Michael Lerner, Fred McCarren

Run Time: 1 hour 24 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

Historically, slasher parodies haven't exactly been great. Student Bodies and Pandemonium have their moments, but they're too close to the material, having come out smack dab in the middle of the slasher golden age. It took a more delicate satirical bent and years of distance for anything successful to come from the genre, in the form of 1996's Scream and 2006's Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon. 

Nevertheless, I was still hopeful when I threw on National Lampoon's Class Reunion. National Lampoon movies aren't always gems in the cinema firmament, but it's at least at trusted comedy brand reasonably fresh off their mega-hit Animal House. And hey, the script was an early entry by none other than John Hughes, King of the 80's Teen!

Yeah, this seems... squarely in his wheelhouse.

There's such a thin wisp of a plot here, it would take an expert paleontologist to excavate it, so let's just Meet the Meat, the attendees of Lizzie Borden High's ten-year reunion of the Class of 1972: Bob Spinnaker (cult fave Gerrit Graham of Phantom of the Paradise and Child's Play 2), the organizer of the event and a spineless coward who wants to seem completely cool, collected, and elegant; Gary Nash (Fred McCarren), a kind but bland man who absolutely nobody remembers; Bunny Packard (Miriam Flynn, who held a recurring role in the Vacation movies, but most importantly played Maa the sheep in Babe), the poisonously chipper Nametag Chairperson; the lecherous boor Hubert Downs (Stephen Furst); the shrill blind girl Iris Augen (Mews Small), and her name is possibly the subtlest joke in the movie - Augen is German for "eyes"; and Delores Salk (Zane Buzby), who sold her soul to the devil to cure a physical disability.

This class is sporadically hunted by the crazed killer Walter Baylor (Blackie Dammett), who was the victim of a cruel prank back in high school that led him to be institutionalized. He dresses in a paper bag and schoolgirl outfit and kills very few of them, mostly offscreen, in uncreative ways.

You know, like how slasher movies do.

There are a lot of comedy movies out there that are just a loose string of sketches helps together by frayed scraps of plot. And those movies can be successful, if those sketches are funny. But Class Reunion is not only not funny, it even lacks the structure to maintain a joke for more than thirty seconds. Rather than sketches, it's composed of shards of comedy shrapnel that clatter onto the ground, spraying in all directions. These bits can be loosely categorized into a couple underwhelming categories. 

First, there's the gags that have aged impossibly harshly, like a trans joke that thinks it's high-larious to put a man with a mustache in a wig. End of joke. (I wouldn't go so far as to say a trans joke wouldn't happen today, because I'm not that optimistic about the state of things at the moment, but we certainly have enough of a baseline understanding in 2018 that it at least wouldn't happen in the same way.)

Second, we have the random detours into scenes that just shouldn't take place in a slasher movie, ha ha! Isn't it inherently funny that three women randomly start singing a full production number of "Stop in the Name of Love" for two full minutes? Prepare your knees for the slapping of a lifetime when a dime store Cheech and Chong wander their way through every other scene in a stoney baloney haze! These scenes sure are random, but they forgot to actually put any jokes in them.

Third and finally (well not quite final, but I'm tired of thinking too hard about these gags), we have the random horror tropes that have been thrown into a bag and dumped across the screen. Now this isn't exactly unfamiliar territory, because I've seen more than my fair share of _____ Movie entries in the mid-2000's. But I will always maintain that a parody is keener and sharper if you dig deep into traps and clichés of the specific subgenre your story is rooted in. The virginal Final Girl in Student Bodies wearing a button on her bra that says "No!" will always be funnier than the characters here who can breathe fire because of the Devil (?) and the one who's just a vampire for no particular reason. It's too unfocused, and its inconsistencies make every aspect of its attempted parody fall flat.

Not that this film also needed a Comic Relief Blind Person, but we can't go around expecting TOO much from National Lampoon.

Before we go further, I should admit that I did laugh a couple of times. No parody this chronologically close to Airplane! could fail to have at least one bizarre linguistic misunderstanding ("I'm really wet!" "Where?"), which always get me. Plus, there's one (and only one) line that seems aware of what a slasher movie actually is: "You can't go out there! You're a girl! You'll twist your ankles!" 

There's also no arguing against the fact that Miriam Flynn as Bunny Packard is singularly terrific. She plays what is essentially the peppy Camryn Manheim character from Romy and Michele, only with a strong undercurrent of insincere, passive-aggressive snarkiness that she wields like a charming dagger. She's the only character with more than one layer, and each of them is an amazing bit of comic performance that this movie doesn't deserve one bit.

But here's the fact I keep being forced to reckon with. National Lampoon's Class Reunion doesn't seem to have seen any slasher movies or have any particular desire to be one. It pulls its punches every chance it gets, only show one of its paltry four deaths onscreen, and patiently refusing to kill characters that directly wander into stalk-'n-slash setups, like the blind girl who follows her seeing-eye dog into the school's dark hallways, wanders around for an excruciatingly long time, at one point even encounters the killer, and then returns to the rest of the movie unharmed. It's not like this shrill, insensitive character was so necessary to the comic material that we couldn't get rid of her!

These things just keep happening. Time dilates excruciatingly slowly for an 80 minute movie, returning again and again to subplots that go nowhere and kills that don't turn out to be kills. It skips from scene to scene with alacrity, rushing as if it has somewhere to go, which it patently does not. It's a scatterbrained wreck of a movie, and is by far the worst slasher spoof I've ever seen, which is saying something because I've sat through a lot of the godforsaken things.

Killer: Walter Baylor (Blackie Dammett)

Final Girl: N/A - the movie doesn't even get this right

Best Kill: Not F**king Applicable

Sign of the Times: The word "feminist" is understood to be an insult.

Scariest Moment: The annoying Hubert reveals that he wasn't actually killed when he was hit in the head with a hammer, and continues to be in the rest of the movie.

Weirdest Moment: When the vampire character talks, he flexes his entire scalp.

Champion Dialogue: "My father didn't spend all that money to keep me out of Vietnam so I could die here in my own high school!"

Body Count: 4

1. Milt is garroted.
2. Mrs. Tabazooski is killed offscreen, presumably with a chainsaw.
3. Jeff and
4. Cindy are killed so far offscreen it's not even implied what weapon was used. 

TL;DR: National Lampoon's Class Reunion is an execrable example of post-Airplane parody doldrums.

Rating: 2/10

Word Count: 1283

Two Buck Chuck

Year: 1990

Director: John Lafia

Cast: Alex Vincent, Christine Elise, Jenny Agutter

Run Time: 1 hour 24 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

Horror sequels get a bad rap. They may be tawdry, craven, or eccentric, but that’s hardly a reason to love them any less. And out of the crop of sequels in a franchise (there’s almost always a franchise, if the first film earned a dime – sometimes even if it didn’t), part twos tend to be the most interesting. A part two is the horror sequel in its purest, most unrefined state. The original actors might still be hanging around (if they haven’t gotten famous, left Hollywood, or found religion) to make return appearances, there’s plenty of money in the coffer, and there’s almost total creative freedom – with only one prior, it’s harder to pick out a pattern to follow.

A first sequel can decide the course of an entire franchise. Friday the 13th Part 2 made the drowned child Jason Voorhees the villain, a putrescently awful idea that went on to make untold millions. Halloween II guaranteed that any attempt to anthologize the franchise without its trademark Boogeyman would be a non-starter. Saw II began the tradition of Jigsaw expanding his torture empire like a less morally bankrupt McDonald’s (zing!), Hatchet II introduced the use of cameras that cost more than five dollars (double zing!), and A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge… Well, people like to pretend that that one never happened.

Probe won me a point in horror trivia one month, though. #neverforget

So when it came time for Child’s Play to wrangle itself a part two (two years after its release – a little late for an 80’s horror sequel but these were the waning years of the age of slasher decadence), there was a whole horizon of hope and wonder spread in front of it. What Child’s Play captain Don Mancini (who has penned the script for every single film in the franchise and directed the most recent two films) elected to do was set his killer doll slowly down the path set by Freddy Krueger: from genuine menace to quipping prankster. Because the initial pedestal he had to fall from wasn’t quite so high, this transition was much smoother, but that’s a story for another time. For now, what we’re faced with is the new Chucky’s cocoon, a still horrific tale that’s certainly more vulgar and crass than its predecessor but equally more focused and thrilling.

In Child’s Play 2, young Andy Barclay (Alex Vincent) has been committed to the foster system following the institutionalization of his mother. The business with the killer doll Chucky (Brad Dourif) – who was possessed with the soul of the Lakeshore Strangler Charles Lee Ray – has been written off as a flight of childish fancy, nevermind the four corpses left in his wake. Andy has been taken in by Joanne (Jenny Agutter of An American Werewolf in London) and Phil Simpson (Gerrit Graham) as well as their teen foster daughter Kyle (Christine Elise), winner of this film’s Spirit of the 90’s ribbon with her leather hat thick gold chain, and cherry red lippy.

When executives of the Play Pals corporations rebuild the Chucky doll to dispel those hurtful rumors about his nasty habit of attempting to dismember loyal customers, things go about as well as you might expect. Chucky discovers Andy’s whereabouts and takes the place of Tommy – the Good Guy doll Andy has been using to get over his trauma – to infiltrate the house and find a quiet moment to play a round or two of Hide the Soul.

I mean, at least it’s better than Monopoly.

The most important topic when discussing Child’s Play 2 (as it is I suppose, with any of its sequels) is the film’s treatment of Chucky. A serial killing doll is a tough character to pull off at the best of times (why don’t people just set up a child gate or something? He’s two freaking feet tall!), and the turning point of the Chucky films was when they embraced their inherent camp value. However, this film struck a curiously perfect alchemical balance. Now that viewers already knew the extent of Chucky’s supernatural prowess thanks to the mostly played-straight Child’s Play, the doll was free to interact openly with his environment from square one. He still lurked in the shadows whens talking his prey, but this Chucky is a more mobile, active man about town.

Many horror enthusiasts would argue that bringing the villain out into the open dampens the cerebral chill of the unknown, that imagination is always worse than what we can see. They’re partially right. And in scenes like, say, Chucky spanking a teacher with a yardstick, it’s a little harder to take him seriously. But this film’s forays into camp territory are relatively infrequent, and the increased face time with Chucky also maximizes exposure to Brad Dourif’s paint-peeling performance of raw, unfettered malice. Chucky’s slightly improved animation effects also serve to make him a more credible menace, and when that doll roars with anger it will electrify your nerve endings like taking a dip with a toaster.

Don’t try this at home: professional blogger working in controlled conditions.

While Child’s Play 2 may lack Tom Holland’s flair for stacking a scene with gag after gag, it’s also the film in the franchise that most frequently and consistently wrings tension out of its scenario, losing the muddy mystery elements that bogged down the original script like a pair of concrete booties. Whether it’s a switcheroo kill where a weapon turns out to be harmless before Chucky strikes for real, the unendurably slow unveiling of Tommy’s deposed corpse (which was buried under the swing and gets revealed a little more with each kick), or just the world’s creepiest basement, this is an astonishingly well put-together work of early 90’s horror cinema. Mind you, that company includes Leprechaun, Dr. Giggles, and The Ice Cream Man, but I’m not kidding around here. This movie’s got legs.

The script also serves the tone well by consolidating the horror around a single-family home rather than a gritty urban crimescape. It allows for more interpersonal dynamics to flourish as the plot thickens (dad thinks Andy’s crazy and wants to return him like he’s a faulty vacuum, mom is struggling with the fact that she’s barren, etc.), and Andy and Kyle develop a very genuine sibling bond that benefits the emotional impact enormously. Kyle also provides the franchise with its first real crack at a bona fide Final Girl, rising to the challenge with vim, vigor, and punk rock attitude.

When the finale rolls around, just Kyle, Andy, Chucky, and an endless Mary Poppins grab bag of lovely, gooey special effects, it’s tremendously difficult not to have fallen head over heels for Child’s Play 2. Chucky has found his way six feet under once more (this guy has more lives than a cat, and they’re all shockingly gory considering that his only health care option is plastic surgery), but his brief new lease on life has reminded us that yes, killer dolls can be scary, yes, sequels can be great, and no, they don’t have to win Oscars to prove it

Child’s Play 2 isn’t the best film to ever happen to me, far from it. But it’s delightfully easy to enjoy, and that’s an astonishingly rare occurrence in the dark and divisive forest of endless horror franchise. I cherish what I can, and Child’s Play 2 is like finding a forgotten reassure in a dusty old toy box, just begging to be played with all over again.

Killer: Chucky (Brad Dourif)

Final Girl: Andy Barclay (Alex Vincent) feat. Kyle (Christine Elise)

Best Kill: After Grace Poole is stabbed, she lands on a photocopier which starts printing copies of her bloody face.

Sign of the Times: Kyle for President

Scariest Moment: Kyle slowly walks down the hall while the sewing machine furiously rattles.

Weirdest Moment: Kyle doesn’t bat an eye when she finds Andy tied to his bed.

Champion Dialogue: You’ve seen dolls that pee? This one bleeds.”

Body Count: 8

1. Worker #1 is electrocuted.
2. Mattson is smothered with a plastic bag.
3. Miss Kettlewell is stabbed with a basketball pump.
4. Phil has his neck broken in a fall.
5. Joanne is killed with her sewing machine offscreen.
6. Grace Poole is stabbed in the chest.
7. Worker #2 has his eyes gouged out by an assembly line machine.
8. Chucky is pelted with malfunctioning doll parts, melted, and exploded.

TL;DR: Child's Play 2 might not be high art, but it's a surprisingly tight and tense entry in the early 90's horror scene.

Rating: 7/10

Word Count: 1446
Reviews In This Series
Child's Play (Holland, 1988)
Child's Play 2 (Lafia, 1990)
Child's Play 3 (Bender, 1991)
Bride of Chucky (Yu, 1998)
Seed of Chucky (Mancini, 2004)
Curse of Chucky (Mancini, 2013)