Census Bloodbath: Back To Back To Skull - Day 2

Welcome back to the second day of our second weeklong celebration of films that encourage people to really rethink their undergraduate ambitions! Our subject for today's lesson is another oddity from 1981- a buried slasher that deserves to be unearthed.

Year: 1981

Director: Ken Hughes

Cast: Leonard Mann, Rachel Ward, Drew Snyder

Run Time: 1 hour 28 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

1981 is commonly known as the best year for the slasher genre, but it's also the era when the sub-subgenre of the college slasher bloomed in full force. Up until then, the slasher film was still on shaky legs, vacillating between dreary Psycho rip-offs and an inexplicable plethora of films set on holidays. In retrospect, the college setting with its near-nightly parties and wealth of healthy young co-eds was the perfect fodder for the structure of the format, but slasher filmmakers were playing it by ear, and 1981 was when they struck gold.

Already from 1981 we've covered the interesting but uninspired sorority slasher Hell Night, the dull but shockingly tense and gory The Prowler, and the generic but visually kinetic Final Exam. But even among such well-known and prestigious peers (well, comparatively), today's topic - Night School - is a standout that deserves far more recognition than it has ever received. 

And not just because of the pristine scenery.

Night School regales us with the tale of Lt. Judd Austin (Leonard Mann, who also played Laura's psychiatrist in Silent Night, Deadly Night III) as he investigates a series of vicious decapitations around Boston, perpetrated by a mysterious killer in a motorcycle helmet. He traces one of the victims back to Wendall College, a women's-only night school where a lecherous anthropology professor named Vincent Millett (Drew Snyder) is rumored to be fooling around with several of his students, to the consternation of his live-in girlfriend/research assistant Eleanor Adjai (Rachel Ward of The Final Terror and - a personal favorite of mine, Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid), who really should know better at this point, considering how their relationship started.

When more of Millett's sexiest students start losing their heads (and not in the usual "finals are next week" sort of way), Judd and his partner Taj (Joseph R. Sicari) buckle down on the search for this mysterious headhunter. The killer's MO invokes a primitive ritual by submerging the heads in water, so could Millet be the culprit? Or is it Gary (Bill McCann), the creepy Peeping Tom busboy who followed Eleanor home the other night? Or is it someone else entirely? My money's on the butler. 

It's a rare example of a mystery slasher that actually works, with each suspect given clear potential culpability and kept in the game until just about the very last second of the reveal.

Maybe it's HER- oh wait, probably not.

Night School really is an odd little duckling. While there is absolutely a precedent for slashers based around police procedural, they usually don't have the feel of the classics of the genre. However, Night School is still firmly ensconced in that arena with its masked killer, sexual exploitation, and bevy of lithe female corpses - making itself an almost perfect hybrid of the two storytelling structures. 

Like many cop slashers, it's decidedly un-gory. Despite nearly every death in the film being a decapitation, they occur offscreen and there aren't many big grisly payoffs when the heads are discovered (although they are nearly always found in amusing places - personal favorites include a toilet - à la House on Sorority Row - and a turtle tank at the aquarium). But the film combines the best of both genres to become a fun, extremely well put-together piece of work despite the lack of grue.

Like many of the best slashers, Night School lives and dies as its characters do - in a well-etched location. Shot and set in Boston, the movie expertly captures the geography of its little brick-and-lamplight neighborhood on the water's edge. It could be a damn postcard if it weren't for all the beheadings. Much like the terrific My Bloody Valentine, the town's atmosphere seeps through every frame, providing a convivial, lived-in location for a set of characters that are equally engaging and fleshed out.

You see, there is no Meat in this film. Because of the dearth of heavy gore effects, Night School elects to maintain its focus on character rather than rent flesh and geysers of blood (what a notion!). Even minor characters like Judd's partner, or Gus the line cook, or the one-scene-only Mrs. Austin are given names, character traits, inner life, and moderately talented performers for taste. All this creates a thoroughly realistic background environment for the mystery that heightens the tension.

As well as all the madcap shower hijinks.

No two ways about it, Night School is more than a cheesy decapitation slasher. It's a fairly decent film qua films, with production quality higher than "I just dug all the change out of this vending machine, let's make a movie." The camera moves, engages with, and comments on the action. The production design is sumptuously detailed, especially in regards to Millett's well-appointed house full of anthropological artifacts. And the editing seeks to draw connections in the viewers mind, rather than just try to hide the boom mikes in every other shot. One notable scene involves juxtaposing the killer's appearance with a shark swimming in a tank, which is literally one of the oldest tricks in the book (a similar cut opens Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times from 1936), but shows that the film seeks to be so much more than its tatty precursors.

The cherry on top is that Night School knows its audience. It's aware that people who are coming to see a slasher film (gasp) want to see a slasher film and (double gasp) have presumably seen quite a few of them already. Using this to its advantage, the film toys with the audience's knowledge of similar films to playfully subvert expectations.

[MILD SPOILERS PEPPER THE REST OF THIS REVIEW. BE WARNED. THOSE WHO WISH TO CONTINUE SHOULD READ ON AFTER THE BREAK.]

The most quintessential of these playful scenes follows the death of the diner waitress Carol (Karen MacDonald), who is decapitated in the alley after pulling a pot of water out of the freezer. By now the audience has come to expect the head to be submerged, so when Gus (Nicholas Cairis) arrives the next morning and serves two construction workers stew from the same pot, the tension is delicious. The scene progresses step-by-step as a sufficiently well-versed horror fan would expect, slowly creeping toward the inevitable reveal as Gus pours out the stew and.... it never comes. When no head tumbles from the pot, audience imaginations are encouraged to run wild as a series of similar, suggestive moments occurs before the final, fateful revelation.

It's one of my favorite body reveal scenes of all time, impishly using the audience's knowledge against them to create a sense of unease. Another similar scene involves Eleanor taking a shower immediately after being followed home by a creepy busboy. Obviously, any shower scene in a horror film can't escape the gargantuan shadow of Psycho, which Night School is duly aware of. So when it  later cuts to swirls of red running down the drain, alarm bells blare in your brain until it is revealed that something entirely different (and perhaps even less appealing) from murder is occurring. Sorry for the awkward wording there, I'm trying not to completely ruin these scenes, just commend them for their sheer cleverness.

Something I never thought I'd say about the Motorcycle Killer movie.

All said, Night School is far more elegant than your typical slasher. It's still exploitative of course (there's plenty of bra shots and a wonderfully sleazy lesbian headmistress), but much more stately and involved with engaging interpersonal affairs. There is a body count, certainly, but it doesn't exist solely to sate bloodthirsty teen boys, rather to ramp up the tension and urgency of the central mystery.

On top of all that, if one wishes to take a Carol J. Clover-type perspective when analyzing the film, they won't be disappointed. 

[SPOILERS (YAY!) AND ANALYSIS (BOO!) The film's constant suggestion that mankind has just barely stepped out of the savage, primal jungle is evidenced in this film's womenfolk, who take traditionally male roles. The killer turns out to be Eleanor, who is pregnant with Millett's child and dutifully murdering anybody he has an affair with. In this way, as evidenced through dialogue, she is taking on the "masculine" role of defending her family, adopting a phallic knife to enact this role with murderous intent. ("It's this culture that's uncivilized. Where a woman can't defend herself.") And Helene Griffin (Annette Miller), the predatory headmistress who seduces a student, likewise takes on a domineering "male" role. 

Not only do these women perform the roles of men, they do it much better than the unfortunately penis-laden ever could, resulting in death, destruction, and general mayhem. By embracing the violence and lust of the male role, the women destroy everything in their path, both indicting the inherent savagery of the human race and the debilitating gender roles imposed by modern society on both men and women, encouraging the primitive aspects of one while repressing the innate natures of the other.]

I really adored Night School. Do I wish it were more licentious with its killings? Absolutely. Do I wish that the victims fought back against their assailant instead of leaning against walls and screaming? By all means. But the blank-faced killer cuts an impressive figure, the characters are engaging, and the filmmaking is exuberant and lively. Especially in the slasher genre, it doesn't get much better than this.

Killer: [Eleanor Adjai (Rachel Ward)]

Final Girl: There isn't one! Gender politics! Unless you count Lt. Judd Austin (Leonard Mann), which I don't.

Best Kill: Anne Baron is decapitated while the killer spins her on a playground's mini merry-go-round.

Sign of the Times: Judd performs a stakeout in a bulky knit sweater.

Scariest Moment: Eleanor is followed home by a creepy busboy.

Weirdest Moment: Eleanor and Vincent have weird anthropology sex in the shower, where he smears her with primitive body paint as they make out.

Champion Dialogue: "I suddenly find myself up to my neck in heads."

Body Count: 6

1. Anne Baron is decapitated on a merry-go-round.
2. Kim is decapitated.
3. Carol is decapitated.
4. Helene Griffin is decapitated. 
5. Kathy is decapitated.
6. Vincent Millett breaks his neck in a motorcycle crash.

TL;DR: Night School is nearly gore-free but makes up for it with well-etched characters and locations, and an engaging and playful storyline that knows how to toy with its audience.
Rating: 8/10
Word Count: 1780

Census Bloodbath: For Goodness Sake

Year: 1989

Director: Monte Hellman

Cast: Samantha Scully, Bill Moseley, Richard Beymer

Run Time: 1 hour 30 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

The genesis of Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! is about as ignominious as a direct-to-video sequel can get. When director Monte Hellman was approached by his friend, who was producing the film, he only agreed to it because he had a wild fever and thought he was going to die. As it happens, he did not - in fact - perish, and he ended up at the helm of a low rent sequel to a low rent recut of an OK slasher in 1989, the year of the subgenre's ignoble death.

As you can imagine, the resulting film isn't exactly an undiscovered gem of 80's horror. But at least it's in reluctant continuity with the first two films, stretching itself rather farther than other - more prominent - franchises managed to do (Halloween III is notorious for not being about Michael Myers at all, but an evil mask company powered by Stonehenge. And it only took Nightmare on Elm Street one movie to turn into a gay body horror parable.). I mean, the film is insane, completely twisting the character of Ricky to fit into the post-Nightmare supernatural model, giving him a brain-exposing helmet that looks like a macabre terrarium and transplanting him from Utah to Southern California. But yes, this is actually a storyline worthy of commendation.

What passed for continuity in the slasher genre could only have survived in a decade powered by copious amounts of cocaine.

The film (when it finally begins after an interminably dull opening dream sequence where we see a girl sleep for two minutes then walk slowly around a white room for twice that) revolves around the exploits of drunk-on-science Doctor Newbury (Richard Beymer), who has a coma patient/ex-Santa Claus axe murderer named Ricky Caldwell (Bill Moseley of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2) under his care. He experiments with a psychic blind girl named Laura (Samantha Scully) and attempts to use her dreams to access Ricky's subconscious memories*.

After a drunk hospital Santa carouses his way into Ricky's room on Christmas Eve, the catatonic serial killer is awoken by the twin naughty sins of yuletide inebriation and terrible puns ("Who's your favorite singer? Perry Coma?"). His seasonal rage is reignited and he uses his psychic link with Laura to follow her to her grandmother's place in Piru (this sequel is so firmly entrenched in its region, it would be commendable if it didn't so boldly fly in the face of the beautiful Utah scenery of the first film). With his brain firmly ensconced in its space-age chapeau and his trusty knife in hand, he skulks around Granny's (Elizabeth Hoffman) farm, putting Laura, her brother Chris (Eric DaRe of Twin Peaks), and his girlfriend Jerri (Laura Herring) at risk.

While Ricky's on the prowl, he is pursued by Dr. Newbury and the police Lieutenant Connely (Robert Culp). Either the budget was too limited or Robert Culp was too important, but these scenes almost entirely take place inside the car en route, presumably shot through in the course of one evening. So the film switches between dreary horror and the oddly homoerotic tensions between the two pursuers as the doctor spouts thoughtful monologues like he had eaten a thesaurus for lunch and it was beginning to disagree with him ("[blowing smoke up your ass] sounds like an enterprise of great pith and circumstance...").

*After the success of A Nightmare on Elm Street, these types of paranormal elements began creeping into the even the most stalwartly traditional of slasher franchises. Jason became a zombie and fought a telekinetic Final Girl. Michael became the victim of a druid cult. And the Prom Night franchise got crossfaded with the movie Carrie and featured a magical prom ghost for two of its middle entries.

What a magical decade.

Centering the plot around a family returning home for the holidays is a good move. It keeps the Christmas spirit intact because it's firmly entrenched in the plot itself. This is a great benefit because Ricky no longer takes on his Santa persona and the number of Christmas-related kills is nil. Come to think of it, the number of actual kills is just about nil as well, considering that just about every death takes place offscreen. There are some brief, half-hearted gore shots (some intestines and a surprisingly decent-looking severed head), but they take place long after the fact and are entirely separate from the action of the moment. They're more like a brief series of grisly tableaux than actual special effects integrated into the film itself.

Because of the dearth of decent special effects and the lethargic pacing of the plot itself, the film perfectly captures the feeling of slowly drifting off to sleep. This may have been what they were going for, I suppose, but I do not feel willing to bestow the benefit of the doubt upon a horror film with such anemic, plodding scares. Even the attack scenes in the finale are staged with deliberate pacing and stuffy presentationalism like a particularly arid episode of Masterpiece Theatre. Not even the music is attempting to spruce things up, largely sitting out the big scenes, and filling the moments in which it does appear with a shrilly sustained pitch like a hyperactive dog whistle. In fact, one kill is literally accompanied by the sound of crickets.

Silent Night Deadly Night III is mostly not even bad-good, which is a register with which this franchise has proven itself very familiar, so it's quite a disappointment. It's merely a perplexing botchery of the cabin in the woods genre. The paranormal elements are ill-established and have no payoff (also, Granny is psychic enough to know when the phone's about to ring but not deduce that the silent man stolidly eating mashed potatoes at her dinner table with his brain exposed is about to kill her), the kills are limp dishwater, and there's not even any exploitation of particular interest. Although Chris' bathtub scene and prodigious pelt of chest hair are charming in a soothingly retro sort of way.

A cheapo exploitation horror movie that sees fit to include a bath scene, yet neither kills the characters nor has them bang is a thorough waste of time.

Never forget this image when you're watching evil Leo be evil in Twin Peaks.

The mystical pure 80's factor is present in enough of the film to keep the suitably historical-minded engaged despite the extreme defecits of the plot and presentation. It comes through with especial strength in scenes like the lieutenant extolling the virtues of his car phone, Jerri offering Laura a naturally carbonated water with a look of reverent wonder on her face, and the fashion. 

Oh, the fashion! Chris, on top of looking like an anthropomorphic mop, drapes himself with denim to the point where I can only assume his underwear is likewise blue and scratchy. And Laura's outfit for a large portion of the film seems to be of a fashion movement entirely unknown to me called "business witch." 

Also, her earrings are, like, totally righteous.

On top of this, there are several (well, one or two) actively good elements of the film, though they rear their heads too rarely to actively applaud. First, the director seems to be somewhat present, unlike the previous films, festooning the movie with little visual fillips that are in a realm somewhere adjacent to cinema. My favorite of these moments is when Ricky gets up from his hospital bed, represented by a close-up of his IV unhooking. It's inelegant, but it evokes an image and an emotional response, something desperately lacking by most of the other moments.

And Scully is a decent Final Girl (the first legitimate character of that type in the series). She can't scream worth a lick, but there's a few lines of dialogue that feel lived-in and warm. Eric DaRe is another standout, his chemistry with the other actors proving to be a vital element in not wanting to drown oneself while watching the film.

Would you look at that? I'm ending on a high note. Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! certainly doesn't deserve it, but hey. It's Christmastime.

Killer: Ricky Caldwell (Bill Moseley)

Final Girl: Laura Anderson (Samantha Scully)

Best Kill: Dr. Newbury is stabbed in the gut and during his death scene (like 20 minutes later) we get to see his intestines. This is the extent of interesting visuals in the film.

Sign of the Times: Chris' badass gun-totin' one-liner is "Is it live, or is it Memorex?"

Scariest Moment: Laura tries to rush out the door, but is blocked by Chris and Jerri coming back inside. It's.... not the scariest film I've ever seen.

Weirdest Moment: When a gas station attendant is off being decapitated, his girlfriend talks dirty through the phone on the desk.

Champion Dialogue: "Who said you had to be the world's champion blind orphan?"

Body Count: 11; not including a nurse who dies in a dream or a man whose eyes are pecked out by a bird on TV. Kills that appear in flashback footage from Silent Night, Deadly Night are in italics.

1. Ellie Chapman Caldwell has her throat slit.
2. Hospital Santa is killed offscreen.
3. Receptionist is killed offscreen.
4. Father O'Brien Old Man Kelsey is shot to death. 
5. PT Cruiser Driver is killed offscreen.
6. Gas Station Greg is decapitated offscreen.
7. Granny is hung offscreen.
8. Dr. Newbury is stabbed in the gut.
9. Jerri is stabbed in the chest offscreen.
10. Chris is choked with a shotgun.
11. Ricky is shot and impaled on a pool cue. 

TL;DR: Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! is a boring sequel that keeps its best moments offscreen.

Rating: 3/10

Word Count: 1635

Reviews In This Series

Silent Night, Deadly Night (Sellier Jr., 1984)

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (Harry, 1987)

Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! (Hellman, 1989)

Silent Night, Deadly Night IV: Initiation (Yuzna, 1990)

Silent Night, Deadly Night V: The Toy Maker (Kitrosser, 1991)

Silent Night (Miller, 2012)