Census Bloodbath: You're It

Year: 1982

Director: Nick Castle

Cast: Robert Carradine, Linda Hamilton, Bruce Abbott

Run Time: 1 hour 30 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

Tag: The Assassination Game wasn't always on the list of 1982 movies I was planning to cover for Census Bloodbath. I came across it in my initial research, but it just didn't seem like it had enough elements to count as a slasher. Plus, take a look at that poster. This movie was heavily sold as an Animal House-style sex comedy, to the point that even I was almost fooled. However, when I finally took a look at it, it proved to me that it deserved a spot on this list. It's not a good one, but it's a slasher movie alright.

At the very least, I didn't waste my time watching a movie I wasn't even going to review.

OK, as much as it does count by my parameters, Tag still isn't particularly faithful to the tropes of the slasher, which had already been set in stone by this point. The plot revolves around a game of tag where a bunch of college run around shooting each other with dart guns. One night, student reporter Alex Marsh (Robert Carradine of Revenge of the Nerds) is hanging out in his dorm when committed player Susan Swayze (Linda Hamilton of... Linda Hamilton) slips through the door to use it as a hideout. He is instantly smitten and tags along with her under the pretense of writing a human interest story about the game.

What he doesn't realize is that the most interesting human in this game is Loren Gersh (introducing Bruce Abbott of Re-Animator and Bad Dreams), a five time champion who is so committed to winning that he has started using bullets instead of rubber darts. So about halfway through, this finally becomes a serial killer movie. Unfortunately he's using a gun because 1) slasher movies are always more interesting with a variety of edged weapons and 2) yikes, gun on campus stories have not aged well. Anyway, while Susan and Alex live out a noir-tinged flirtation, the missing persons reports are stacking up on the desk at campus administration.

A story Alex's editor urges him to track down, which he absolutely refuses to do until it's almost too late.

Tag is a production stacked top to bottom with recognizable names. We've already seen three of them in the synopsis above, but some of the smaller roles are filled out by Xander Berkeley, Michael Winslow, and even Forest F**king Whitaker. Plus, it was written and directed by Nick Castle, who played The Shape in Halloween. It's slasher royalty directing a cadre of 80's royalty, and it goes horribly, horribly wrong almost immediately.

It's hard to pinpoint exactly where Tag goes wrong, but I'll do my darnedest. I guess a good place to start is the opening credits, a bizarre, poorly executed James Bond parody that promises a movie more in line with what those misleading posters are trying to sell. This wacky, cartoonish quality peeps from behind the curtain from time to time, but never enough that the movie actually commits to being a quirky comedy. There are some genuinely funny moments, like a scene of Gersh disposing of a body, where a woman is in the background talking to her dad about a dude getting her pregnant, or the flock of people rushing the gym when Alex announces there's a free Grateful Dead concert while trying to get somebody off Susan's tail. Or not funny moments that are clearly at least trying to be, like the list of Tag players that includes entries like "E. Presley" and "A. Neuman."

This tone completely fails to gel with the horror elements which are already silly and malnourished, but take themselves quite seriously. Bruce Abbott is solid as a man so obsessed with winning that he's completely relaxed his grip on sanity or morality (I especially love the phone calls he makes to the game master after each kill, where the man encourages him to keep going, not realize he's actually been ending these people's lives), but the game is so ridiculous and complicated in its execution that it's hard to follow what his goals even are in any given scene. And the fact that there is a real game going on makes the first act an exhausting slog through endless fakeout assassination scenes.

At least it afforded Linda Hamilton a chance to prep her Sarah Conner routine.

One interesting thing about the film is that it's very much inspired by the narrative and aesthetic elements of film noir. This is the third tone that completely fails to match the others, so much so that I literally couldn't find an appropriate place to mention it until now. The absolute best way this concept is executed is in Susan's introduction to Alex, where she is lit up by a flashing light outside his blinds, sending harsh rectangles of light slanting across her form in the only shot in the movie that comes even close to being exquisite.

The worst is probably the fact they thought they could get away with including the whole "you know how to whistle, don't you?" scene from To Have and Have Not verbatim. As a whole, this element is the most thoroughly achieved, with enough high key lighting and over-the-top production design to keep the feeling going throughout. But try as Nick Castle might, he's still making a movie where not every scene manages to avoid having the boom mic poke down from the top of the screen. It's a valiant effort, but it needs a little more delicacy to balance everything it wants to be.

It's not a total waste of time. Some of the shots that aren't too enshrouded in shadow to see anything are actually quite pretty. And obviously it's kind of a blast being surrounded by so many familiar faces slumming it with such a ludicrous concept. But being a fan of Terminator movies doesn't entirely carry over to watching Linda Hamilton play with a dart gun for 90 minutes. Maybe 20, at best. 

Side Note I Didn't Have Room for Elsewhere in the Review: A hippie character has a pet rat perched on his shoulder, which he names Ratatouille, inventing Pixar in the process.

Killer: Loren Gersh (Bruce Abbott)

Final Girl: Susan Swayze (Linda Hamilton)

Best Kill: Gersh times his shooting of Nancy with the gunshot beginning a track race. He then pulls her crumpled body through the bleachers and it is disturbing.

Sign of the Times: A bunch of college students are very excited to attend a Grateful Dead concert.

Scariest Moment: Loren chases Susan through the music department, surrounded by the sound of clicking metronomes.

Weirdest Moment: The bodyguards of a particularly intense player (one of whom is Forest Whitaker) have a moment alone, and they mime getting into a car and driving down the hallway.

Champion Dialogue: "I haven't seen you this high since last June when you were hanging out with a communist."

Body Count: 5

1. Dwayne is shot in the shower.
2. Nancy is shot in the butt.
3. Wallace is shot.
4. Security Guard is shot.
5. Gersh is shot and falls off a building.

TL;DR: Tag: The Assassination Game is a weird tonal mishmash that sometimes works but mostly doesn't.
Rating: 4/10
Word Count: 1225

An A-Maize-Ing Journey

Year: 1984

Director: Fritz Kiersch

Cast: Peter Horton, Linda Hamilton, R.G. Armstrong

Run Time: 1 hour 32 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

Happy Halloween month, everybody! You know I can't resist me a good franchise marathon when the spooky season rolls around, but what's a boy to do when he's already covered Freddy, Jason, Michael, Leatherface, Chucky, Pazuzu, and 112 Ocean Avenue? Well, luckily (or probably unluckily) for me, the horror genre can't resist pumping out a coterie of sequels for any old random title that makes money, which brings us to Children of the Corn and its legendary, decades-spanning run of 10 films. That's the franchise that'll be providing my suffering for your entertainment this year, so let's start with good ol' number one and see if it's gonna be a trick or a treat to kick off the season.

Trick question. Linda Hamilton is always a treat.

Loosely based on the Stephen King short story of the same name, Children of the Corn tells the tale of young med school graduate Burt (Peter Horton) and his girlfriend Vicky (Linda Hamilton, ever-so slightly pre-Terminator). They are traveling to a small Nebraska town where he has gotten a job, but through a series of increasingly eerie circumstances, they wind up stopped over in the ghost town of Gatlin, where the children have murdered all the adults and worship the mysterious entity known as He Who Walks Behind the Rows. The cult of tykes is led by the charismatic despot Isaac (John Franklin) and his right-hand man, pubescent enforcer Malachai (Courtney Gains).

They investigate the town, and over the next 45 minutes Burt conclusively proves that you don't need to have a brain to graduate med school. 

And you don't need a hat to be a creepy child cult leader. But it helps.

The thing that boggles the mind about Children of the Corn is exactly how it became a classic in the first place. I think the name "Stephen King" has the a lot to do with it, and eventually the name "Linda Hamilton," but by all measures CotC is a very slight film. It's split roughly into halves: First we see the origin of the mayhem in Gatlin and establish the relationship between Vicki and Burt. Then they arrive in the town, discover its secret, and set out to vanquish a demon, all over the course of a single eventful day. When the credits roll, it feels like you've watched about 70 minutes of a movie that was supposed to be quite a bit longer. Now, being brisk is hardly a sin for a movie (especially in my eyes), but the narrative is malnourished in a few important ways.

For one thing, the central relationship is unusually well-established for a movie of this ilk, but only in the first twenty minutes or so. Hamilton and Horton have a warm, lived-in chemistry that is satisfying to bask in, and they feint at subplots about Burt being afraid of commitment and both of them maybe being resentful of having to move to such a small town, but all of this is forgotten by the time they reach Gatlin. There, our heroes are split up for pretty much the rest of the movie and never get any actual conflict resolved beyond the immediate physical threat to their persons. 

We also don't get to see enough of the inner workings of the cult of children to really understand how dreadful life has been for them since the change. This is largely because we spend the most time with Joby (Robby Kiger) and Sarah (Anne Marie McEvoy), two children who are specifically separate from the rest of the pack. There are occasional cuts to dissension brewing between Isaac and Malachai, but this subplot is painted in strokes so broad you could fly a crop-duster through them.

Curse these little moppets for getting their Spielberg all over my King!

But speaking of Isaac and Malachai, therein lies my biggest theory why this film has made any sort of lasting impression on the culture at large. Isaac is played by John Franklin, who was in his early twenties at the time of filming, although he retained a childlike appearance due to a growth hormone deficiency. His performance is incredibly satisfying, physically highlighting Isaac's childlike features, but retaining every nanosecond of his adulthood in the boy's eyes and voice. Isaac is a character that seems wise beyond his years (for good reason), haunted by a look that no child should ever have. Franklin's performance is incredibly creepy, and iconic for good reason.

Malachai is iconic in his own way, too, though probably because he reminds everyone of their childhood bully. His pubescent squeak and gangly limbs combined with his physical menace are another rough juxtaposition, this time of a child clearly trying to act beyond his years, instead of the other way around.

Beyond that, Children of the Corn is truly valuable for one scene alone, and it is the introductory sequence where we get to see the children murdering all the adults in a diner. It's the goriest moment in the film (later, most of the blood is tempera paint red and thrown in splashes from offscreen) and by far the most brutal and creepy. It's also the Stephen Kingiest, not shying away from the taboo, stomach-churning topics like, oh... children murdering the sh*t out of their parents.

That's not ALL strawberry milkshake.

Everything else in the movie is just kind of... fine, or at least good thing that is undercut by something slightly nefarious and - is it hacky to use the word "corny?" For example, the creepiness of the children being interrupted by Joby's weirdly chipper, entirely unnecessary voiceover narration. I do like the score, which utilizes a choir of children to good effect, but it's counterbalanced by the hilariously low-grade effect that bring to life [sic] He Who Walks Behind the Rows. It looks like somebody drew a demon in an Etch-a-Sketch and shook it up halfway, which in turn undermines the actually almost creepy effect of the entity moving under the soil like the groundhog from Caddyshack.

All in all, I enjoy myself during Children of the Corn, and it might not always be for the best reasons, but who's to turn down a movie that's enjoyable? It doesn't have a whole lot of meat on its bones, but I suppose that's what you can expect from a corn-based diet anyway.

TL;DR: Children of the Corn is a classic for no real reason I can discern, but there is some stuff that is at least halfway worthy of longevity.

Rating: 6/10

Word Count: 1109
Reviews In This Series
Children of the Corn (Kiersch, 1984)
Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice (Price, 1992)
Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest (Hickox, 1995)
Children of the Corn IV: The Gathering (Spence, 1996)
Children of the Corn V: Fields of Terror (Wiley, 1998)
Children of the Corn 666: Isaac's Return (Skogland, 1999)
Children of the Corn: Revelation (Magar, 2001)
Children of the Corn (Borchers, 2009)
Children of the Corn: Genesis (Soisson, 2011)
Children of the Corn: Runaway (Gulager, 2018)