observation notes: The Beast of Bray Road

With all the cinematic attention vampires and zombies have gotten over the years, I've always been surprised that werewolves has never sparked the public interest. Sure, there are notables out there like Silver Bullet, Ginger Snaps, Dog Soldiers (you do not want to start a conversation with me about a certain Benicio Del Toro...project.), but contemplate this for a moment: before the Mormon-abstinence-telenovela that is Twilight burst onto the scene, the werewolf movie that most often came to mind for your average American under the age of 40 was Teen Wolf. Now I like Teen Wolf, a lot, I own the double-feature DVD with Teen Wolf Too, I even have a t-shirt like Stiles' that says "What Are You Looking at Dicknose," though truthfully that's more of an Always Sunny thing at this point, but I digress; the point is, there aren't a lot of great werewolf movies out there, and what there are are always low-budget. Hollywood should wake up, make a good old-fashioned werewolf pic, without setting it in a good old-fashioned era. Or making the werewolf some dreamy teenage boy. Or making the werewolves somehow subservient to vampires. Or painting them as pack animals. They are not. And they are not glamorous either, nor well-trained or pleased with their condition. Lycanthropy isn't a privilege, it's a curse. America's youth would do well to remember that.

Anyway, none of this has anything to do with The Beast of Bray Road, except that said film is indeed about a werewolf, a reportedly true one at that. Set in rural Wisconsin, the film starts as all good horror films should: with a pretty girl in a stalled car on a lonely stretch of road in the middle of the night. The requisite forest chase by a partially-seen snarling beast ensues. Screams, ripping flesh, and there's your beast - a cross between a werewolf, a bear and a critter - plus only half of the pretty lady. Bitchin' opening.

Well, this death sends a ripple of panic through the small town the lady hailed from, a bucolic hollow full of eccentric characters like tourism-hungry deputies, scandal-seeking budding bloggers, wanton floozies and all their customary small-town bullshit - remarkably like the setting and resulting feel of True Blood. I honestly caught a lot of similarities, despite this film being nearly six years old - all as seen through the eyes of a local sheriff (Jeff Denton), the standard-issue relocated big city cop with some brooding secrets.

Suspects are investigated but nothing pans out, and meanwhile the bodies keep coming, along with sightings from disreputable sources, leading the townsfolk to rather quickly and without much debate decide it must be the Beast of Bray Road. The scene where the legend was explained was my one problem with the script. I really don't like obvious exposition, and that's all this was. But it was mercifully brief, and truthfully the only (minor) flaw in what I thought was an otherwise great script. The other thing I had a problem with last night - the fact that the other law enforcement officers were actively and intentionally dropping the word "werewolf" to the press in order to drum up tourism - this morning I woke up really liking, I don't know why, it just strikes me the day after as pretty funny, and a believable adjustment to the crooked-cop scenario.

Anyway, from here it's basically cat and mouse: the beast kills, the cops get closer, and so on and so on until there's the final confrontation. As I'd like to keep this a relatively spoiler-free site - the point is to get you to watch the movies, after all - I'll just say that I thought I knew how it was ending, and when I figured out I was wrong, they dropped it on me before I could re-figure, another compliment to an excellent script.

So speaking of the script, it was written by the fantastic Leigh Scott, who also edited and directed the film. I've mentioned Mr. Scott here before, he's worked quite often with The Asylum (Frankenstein Reborn, The Hitchhiker, Transmorphers), and his newest film, The Witches of Oz, got a mention in this blog's first Outside the Walls entry. This was by far my favorite of his films to date. The script, as mentioned a few times, was excellent: it built suspense well, even with a full-reveal of the creature in the first five minutes, it scared you, made you laugh, and the characters - even the minor characters - felt fully fleshed out and were inhabited by capable actors at every turn. Denton (King of the Lost World, The 9/11 Commission Report) comes across as the beefy, jowly lovechild of Zack Braff and Dax Shepard and plays the role with the same sort of dry humor as those idiots, only more subtle, not out for amusement as much as he is diffusement, which isn't a word, but I think you get the gist. Other standouts include Sarah Lieving (the documentarian from Monster and E. Roby's oversexed sister in Pod People) as the sultry bartendress and love interest of Denton's Sheriff; Thomas Downey (Shapeshifter, Ballistica) as the Indiana-Jones-esque cryptozoologist; and Andy Lauer, best-known as "Charlie" on "Caroline in the City," as an abusive asshole.

Bottom line, this film was a lot of fun and a good scare, the result of an outstanding script and charged performances, and, of course, the sharp eye of Leigh Scott. It's my kind of werewolf movie.

This review is dedicated to the great state of Wisconsin.

these notes originally posted 9/25/2011

observation notes: Legion of the Dead

It's a modern-day mummy scare courtesy of writer/director and Asylum executive Paul Bales.

When daredevil weekend motocross-ers in California stumble (crash) upon an Egyptian tomb (?), they accidentally unleash an ancient evil whose bloodlust has been lying dormant too long. This brings in university Egyptologist Zach Galligan (Gremlins) and his team of student archaeologists, including the requisite bespectacled hottie (Courtney Clonch) who's had the requisite drunken fling with her professor and now it's awkward as shit, but the education must go on, so here she is. Before the excavation can even get in full swing, however, there's already a confrontation with the local law enforcement (Bruce Boxleitner) and the mysteriously authoritative coroner (Andy Lauer) over issues of safety. Ominously, and foolishly, ZG dismisses their concerns, decreeing that all will be well (It most certainly will not).

Down in the tomb, the university team is joined by an Indiana-Jones style adventurer/academic of either French, German or British decent, I couldn't tell by the accent, oddly enough, and embodied by the capable form of Rhett Giles, who not only is able to disarm millennia-old booby traps, but also offer some bizarre yet I'm sure plausibly-anchored in historical fact explanation as to why there'd be an Egyptian tomb on the West Coast of the United States. I'll admit to being slightly buzzed at this point so not entirely following this logic, but the students on screen seemed to fall for it, and it's their field, so, who am I to doubt?

Hieroglyphics in the tomb spell out certain death but still our intrepid university-team foolishly continues to poke and prod about recklessly, even going so far as to open a mummy's coffin.  Now, I'm no Egyptologist, obviously, but I'm pretty sure if there was a rule book for such a thing, a guide of basic do's and don'ts handed out to every freshman Egyptology major, rule one on page one would read in big fucking bold, block letters: NEVER OPEN THE COFFIN. Or maybe that's just me.


So while this curse is unfurling, as if it wasn't enough, we get the first flares of in-team tension. Seems ZG is pleased with the drunken sexual encounter between he and the bespectacled hottie last year, but she isn't, and furthermore, who's even less pleased is the fella, also on the team, who's been trying to win her heart, let alone her loins, for some time now but she just keeps pushing him away, while pulling others closer. Essentially, this chick's boned too many dudes on this small team, and egos are colliding. And a danger such as this, a danger of the heart, can be the most perilous of all. Until the mummy awakes, of course, and then who gives a fuck about feelings?


And awake the mummy is, thanks to four-eyes' aloud-translation of the hieroglyphics, and, surprise of surprises, the mummy manifests as an eve hotter hottie (Claudia Lynx) with a penchant for walking around butt-ass naked and sucking your...wait for it...lifeforce (sorry) with her touch. A couple of souls in her system and our hottie mummy, now all alert and potent, sets out into the modern world, where she runs into the other hottie, the student, who - thinking our naked killer mummy some poor, disoriented naked foreigner - is nice enough to dress her in a shirt that shows plenty of her midriff. The mummy then uses the human hottie as a beard that she might infiltrate the Egyptoligists and unfurl her centuries-old plan of revenge (only Rhett Giles knows the mummy is a mummy, but this is no good, as he's on her side. D'oh!)


From here there be spoilers, ye be warned - but before its over there's a lot more dead and even more long-dead alive again, if that makes any sense. 

Overall, I found Legion of the Dead to be a fun scare, more heavy on gore than frights, but thanks to great FX and a solid script that kept its science light and the horror out front, balancing levity, historical accuracy, archaeological authenticity, thrills, chills and boobs like a master plate spinner. Helping this balance is an array of solid performances from the cast. ZG hasn't aged a day by the looks of things, no matter how big of a beard you put on him. And try as he might, he isn't as convincing as I would have liked at being the sleaze-ball, coed-preying university scalliwag, but he plays pathetic well, so when his character takes a turn in that direction, he really comes alive. Then, unfortunately, he really comes the opposite. Brief role for Zach, here. Also briefly on-screen is the other name, Bruce B, who as the sheriff has even less screen time than Zach. What lines he does have he reads as softly stern and likably authoritative. Feels like Greg Evigan in 6 Guns, he's on the box to get your attention, but the brunt of the action doesn't fall anywhere near him.

Of the two girls, Courtney the student hottie has the bigger role, which she plays as simultaneously capable and naive, a little doe-eyed but  intelligent, so not helpless. She was a lot of fun to watch, mostly because of her talent, but a little to do with that cut-off-collar sweatshirt she rocked for most of the film. I'm a sucker for off-duty-librarian-chic (you'll know what I mean if you need to). Claudia, our Egyptian minx, played her role of royalty as just that: poised, severe, breathtakingly beautiful, and all while frequently naked, to boot, so ascending to a whole new level of the aforementioned traits.


Writer/Director Paul Bales has written several other Asylum films, but to date this is his only trip behind the camera. The tricks of light and sound and tremors of camerawork he employs, along with his script, help to make this one more than a mere low-budget modern-day mummy flick, and instead a grade-A historical horror film that never takes itself too seriously, while never letting itself grown too light. 

Pretty damn good time, if you ask me.

observation notes: War of the Worlds

This is it, the one that started it all, the film that shifted The Asylum's focus from DVD horror toward the tie-in, or "mockbuster," market. For better or worse (better), this is where The Asylum began to become what we know (and love) today.

The plot here should be rhetorical, being that it's the most famous radio broadcast ever, the direct basis for two other big screen adaptations and, as the best-known and arguably first alien invasion story in the English language, the indirect basis for at least 65% of all sci-fi films ever made. So story then isn't the issue here; the issue becomes how The Asylum handles the story. And as was (or would be) the case in regards to Allan Quatermain and the Temple of Skulls and 30,000 Leagues Under the Sea, the fine folks at The Asylum aren't necessarily making a tie-in as much as they are their own adaptation of the same source material. And in this adaptation, H. G. Wells' narrative becomes a picaresque apocalypse story, kind of like The Road if we the audience had encountered these characters as the apocalypse was happening, not after it: one man(C. Thomas Howell, naturally)'s journey to find his family among unimaginable chaos, and the array of bizarre events and characters he encounters along the way. By setting the weight of the entire story of the sole shoulders of one character, the film becomes less an action-spectacular - though the action is indeed kinda spectacular - and more a philosophical characterization of the variations within the spectrum of human responses to global catastrophe.

And speaking of the catastrophe, by proxy the special effects, they weren't Tiny Juggernaut good, but for whoever did them, they were effective, especially if the aim was to try and attempt a sort of old-school sci-fi feel: the bug creature things looked like they were made for Starship Troopers by Ray Harryhausen at the dawn of CGI. Does that sound harsh? Rude? I don't mean it to, honestly, I liked this. The death rays and toxic gas, too, I thought, were nods to classic sci-fi, specifically George Pal's incarnation of this story with its iconic green glow. I really hope these nods, this effect I felt, was in fact a nod to classic sci-fi, because it's in regards to this vein that I most often view the work of The Asylum. Like George Pal or Samuel Z. Arkoff, I see David Michael Latt (who directed this film) and his crew as innovative imagineers (a term I think I'm stealing from Disney), testing the bounds of what we can believe, not afraid to tell a story you might have heard before because of confidence in their ability to tell it differently than all others; not better, not best, but not the worst, either, just different, theirs, which is the aim of every artist - to make that which is universal, unique.

"Slow down, asshole," some of you might be saying, "We're not exactly talking about art here."

To which I say: that's pretty narrow-minded of you. If all you can find art in is pretentious heavy-handedness, if you can't see it in the creation of fictional bug creatures, or in the neon glow of vaporizing death rays, or in the lines of C. Thomas Howell's face when he laments the fate of his wife and son - then you're not seeing half the art that's out there (and you're probably reading the wrong blog).

Back to it though: the main distinction I found in this telling of the story was that The Asylum has made a more intimate film than other versions; instead of focusing of the global scale of things their version is largely centered around one man alone in pursuit of his family, and, like they did with I Am Omega, The Asylum puts a heavy emphasis on the emotional toll of such a fate, allowing stress to dominate reason and cast the scientist as all but useless, just another rote survivor. Latt and crew also played up the faith angle a little more than others, okay, a lot more, specifically in reference to the alien attacks as a version of the Christian Rapture. Though here it isn't driven home as fervently as it would be in the pictures distributed through their Faith Films off-shoot, the character of Pastor Victor (the always splendid Rhett Giles) is absolutely inserted to give a theological perspective on the end of days.

All in all, this story isn't new; The Asylum's perspective on it, however, feels fresh, and is made so through the direction of David Michael Latt and the performances of his capable cast, a virtual who's who of Asylum films: C. Thomas Howell (Da Vinci Treasure, The Land That Time Forgot), Andy Lauer (Legion of the Dead, King of the Lost World), Rhett Giles (Frankenstein Reborn, The Apocalypse), Kim Little (Jane White is Sick and Twisted, Supercroc) - whose three minutes on screen are by far the most memorable - Sarah Lieving (in her first film role) and notable non-inmates like Jake Busey and the guy who played "Zed" in Pulp Fiction as C. Tom's brother.

Truth be told, I liked this better than Spielberg's version, I honestly did. Are the effects better? Of course not, the other version was directed by Steven fucking Spielberg. But H.G. Wells' original story isn't about effects, it's about fear, it's about chaos, and it's about the integral character of man being tested in the face of such adversities. And in that sense, in my opinion, Steven Spielberg is no David Michael fucking Latt.

Let the hate mail commence.

observation notes: King of the Lost World

This is where the distinction between "tie-in" and "mockbuster," I believe, is the most vivid. King of the Lost World is of course meant to draft attention from fans of King Kong, but instead of making a rote reinvention, The Asylum has here - as they did with Princess of Mars, the Avatar tie-in and The Land That Time Forgot, a Land of the Lost tie-in - returned to the source material, of sorts. King Kong is not based on a book, but there are tales it was suggested by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novel "The Lost World," which also inspired "Jurassic Park" and Jurassic Park (and the sequel to the latter, of course; it's subtitled The Lost World.) It also feels as if The Asylum, when putting a modern touch on the storyline, was inspired by a certain television show that premiered just the year before. See how many words you get into the following sentence before you figure out what show I'm referring to; if it takes more than four, you're blocked for ten minutes: when a plane crashes on a strange island, survivors are left with a struggle for life that's going to take more than mere survival.

The survivors - a collection of Asylum all-stars including Bruce Boxleitner (Legion of the Dead, "Babylon 5"), Jeff Denton (The Beast of Bray Road, Pirates of Treasure Island), Rhett Giles (Frankenstein Reborn, Dracula's Curse), Andrew Lauer (Jane White is Sick & Twisted, War of the Worlds) and Sarah Lieving (pick any Asylum movie; 70-80% of the time she'll be in it) - make the inevitable decision to leave the beach in search of other survivors and the airplane's black box, not realizing they're entering a monstrous menagerie of Vernesian proportions: animals, insects, plants - you name it, it's out to get you on this island. So, predictably, things go south real quick.

First the toga-ed, juggalo-ed natives appear. Then the survivors come across a footprint the size of a fucking starter home. I don't know how other people travel, but me, if I come across something like that, a footprint I could park my car in, I go back the fuck where I came from. But instead of retreating to the beach and visibility from the air, our survivors decide to test that designation by tromping further into the obviously foreboding jungle. Along the way they find a downed plane with working missiles - lucky break, that - and a deranged Steve Railsback (Helter Skelter, The Stunt Man, Intermedio). The rest I'll let you unravel for yourself - say no to spoilers - but needless to say, creatures, fire and sweat-stained tank-tops abound. There's even a gratuitous breast scene that turns kinda lesbian, followed promptly by mild jungle torture, creature violence and revelations. And the monkey, the king of the lost world, I'll say just two things: it's really, really fucking big, really; and it makes a laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate appearance in the film.

Bottom line, I found the film to be enthralling, original and character driven instead of FX-heavy, though the FX present are effective. They're not Peter-Jackson FX, but aside from that monkey-T. Rex brawl, who the fuck cared? Bruce Boxleitner is viciously stoic as the passenger with a secret, and a gun, while Steve Railsback is rightfully ornery and emaciated, a convincing castaway madman, spouting "Lost" season one theories that the island is their Hell. Sarah Lieving and Jeff Denton are lovers once again as they were in The Beast of Bray Road, the former her typically hyper-motivated, fiercely-independent self, strong and brash, but still able to break just like a little girl, and the latter furrowedly concerned and quietly relentless.

Brought to you by the same writing triumvirate of Pirates of Treasure Island, and directed, as was that film, by Leigh Scott, the Peter Jackson of The Asylum, King of the Lost world is B-movie gold, and a goddamn good time.

observation notes: The Beast of Bray Road

With all the cinematic attention vampires and zombies have gotten over the years, I've always been surprised that werewolves has never sparked the public interest. Sure, there are notables out there like Silver Bullet, Ginger Snaps, Dog Soldiers (you do not want to start a conversation with me about a certain Benicio Del Toro...project.), but contemplate this for a moment: before the Mormon-abstinence-telenovela that is Twilight burst onto the scene, the werewolf movie that most often came to mind for your average American under the age of 40 was Teen Wolf. Now I like Teen Wolf, a lot, I own the double-feature DVD with Teen Wolf Too, I even have a t-shirt like Stiles' that says "What Are You Looking at Dicknose," though truthfully that's more of an Always Sunny thing at this point, but I digress; the point is, there aren't a lot of great werewolf movies out there, and what there are are always low-budget. Hollywood should wake up, make a good old-fashioned werewolf pic, without setting it in a good old-fashioned era. Or making the werewolf some dreamy teenage boy. Or making the werewolves somehow subservient to vampires. Or painting them as pack animals. They are not. And they are not glamorous either, nor well-trained or pleased with their condition. Lycanthropy isn't a privilege, it's a curse. America's youth would do well to remember that.

Anyway, none of this has anything to do with The Beast of Bray Road, except that said film is indeed about a werewolf, a reportedly true one at that. Set in rural Wisconsin, the film starts as all good horror films should: with a pretty girl in a stalled car on a lonely stretch of road in the middle of the night. The requisite forest chase by a partially-seen snarling beast ensues. Screams, ripping flesh, and there's your beast - a cross between a werewolf, a bear and a critter - plus only half of the pretty lady. Bitchin' opening.

Well, this death sends a ripple of panic through the small town the lady hailed from, a bucolic hollow full of eccentric characters like tourism-hungry deputies, scandal-seeking budding bloggers, wanton floozies and all their customary small-town bullshit - remarkably like the setting and resulting feel of True Blood. I honestly caught a lot of similarities, despite this film being nearly six years old - all as seen through the eyes of a local sheriff (Jeff Denton), the standard-issue relocated big city cop with some brooding secrets.

Suspects are investigated but nothing pans out, and meanwhile the bodies keep coming, along with sightings from disreputable sources, leading the townsfolk to rather quickly and without much debate decide it must be the Beast of Bray Road. The scene where the legend was explained was my one problem with the script. I really don't like obvious exposition, and that's all this was. But it was mercifully brief, and truthfully the only (minor) flaw in what I thought was an otherwise great script. The other thing I had a problem with last night - the fact that the other law enforcement officers were actively and intentionally dropping the word "werewolf" to the press in order to drum up tourism - this morning I woke up really liking, I don't know why, it just strikes me the day after as pretty funny, and a believable adjustment to the crooked-cop scenario.

Anyway, from here it's basically cat and mouse: the beast kills, the cops get closer, and so on and so on until there's the final confrontation. As I'd like to keep this a relatively spoiler-free site - the point is to get you to watch the movies, after all - I'll just say that I thought I knew how it was ending, and when I figured out I was wrong, they dropped it on me before I could re-figure, another compliment to an excellent script.

So speaking of the script, it was written by the fantastic Leigh Scott, who also edited and directed the film. I've mentioned Mr. Scott here before, he's worked quite often with The Asylum (Frankenstein Reborn, The Hitchhiker, Transmorphers), and his newest film, The Witches of Oz, got a mention in this blog's first Outside the Walls entry. This was by far my favorite of his films to date. The script, as mentioned a few times, was excellent: it built suspense well, even with a full-reveal of the creature in the first five minutes, it scared you, made you laugh, and the characters - even the minor characters - felt fully fleshed out and were inhabited by capable actors at every turn. Denton (King of the Lost World, The 9/11 Commission Report) comes across as the beefy, jowly lovechild of Zack Braff and Dax Shepard and plays the role with the same sort of dry humor as those idiots, only more subtle, not out for amusement as much as he is diffusement, which isn't a word, but I think you get the gist. Other standouts include Sarah Lieving (the documentarian from Monster and E. Roby's oversexed sister in Pod People) as the sultry bartendress and love interest of Denton's Sheriff; Thomas Downey (Shapeshifter, Ballistica) as the Indiana-Jones-esque cryptozoologist; and Andy Lauer, best-known as "Charlie" on "Caroline in the City," as an abusive asshole.

Bottom line, this film was a lot of fun and a good scare, the result of an outstanding script and charged performances, and, of course, the sharp eye of Leigh Scott. It's my kind of werewolf movie.

This review is dedicated to the great state of Wisconsin.