Cemetery Man (Michele Soavi, 1994)

When I think of the 1990s, the last thing that comes to mind is great horror. In fact, I can't think of any horror movies from that particular ten year period that are worthy of the unique brand of praise I like to dole out on a regular basis. Sure, there are lots of cool horror flicks from 1990, 1991, 1992, and 1993. But those years are basically the late '80s (the last gasp of a dead decade, if you will). Try finding anything of note that was made beyond early '90s, and you will find yourself watching I Still Know What You Did Last Summer on a loop (my God, how did I get here?). Which is why I was somewhat taken aback by the undiluted awesomeness that Cemetery Man (a.k.a. DellaMorte DellaMore) was putting out there. I know, I shouldn't be surprised–after all, it was directed by Michele Soavi (pronounced: me-káy-lay so-áh-vee), the genius behind such films as Stage Fright and The Sect, and the story is based on the Tiziano Sclavi novel of the same name (his comic book "Dylan Dog" was apparently an influence as well)–but the last thing I expected to find was a darkly funny tale about an impotent "engineer" who enjoys reading the phone book and shoots zombie boy scouts in the head for a living. Hell, even the film's mentally challenged, comically rotund sidekick has a romantic subplot, and he barely grunts more than two words. You can't see it right away, but this film is special. Call me a sick twist dangling in a perverted wind, but the moment our "hero" shoots a bespectacled nun in the eye (just because she told him he couldn't smoke in the hospital's intensive care unit) was when I first realized that this film is not your typical zombie flick. And, by the way, I'm a little uncomfortable calling this film a "zombie flick," as it's not really about them. You could tell that the film wasn't just by observing the devil-may-care attitude Rupert Everett exudes while dispatching the so-called "returners."
 

 

They [the zombies] are more of a nuisance than an actual threat. The frailties of a human heart, on the other hand, play a bigger part in the world of Cemetery Man, as the love Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett) feels for a mysterious widow (Anna Flachi), the new mayor's girlfriend (Anna Falchi), and a local prostitute (Anna Falchi) are what dominate the proceedings. Wow, that's a lot of acting heavy lifting for a someone so top heavy. What I mean is, Anna Falchi doesn't look like the kind of actress who's equipped to take on one role, let alone three. Of course, I was completely off base in my assumption, as Anna Falchi manages to give each incarnation of the woman who vexes the film's morbid protagonist a distinct personality. You think I'm kidding about him being vexed? Check this out, he forces a doctor to castrate him when he learns that one of Anna Falchi's alter egos has an erection phobia. Don't worry, though, the doctor opts for chemical castration instead of the old snip-a-roo.
 

 

Shooting returners in the head with his trusty six shooter seven days after being laid to rest has so commonplace at the Buffalora Cemetery, that he can't even seem to muster a sly smile while he casually ventilates their rotting skulls. It's true, every once and a while he gets to crush their heads with a shovel. But it's safe to say that Francesco Dellamorte is in a bit of a rut.
 

 

This changes, however, when Dellamorte spots "the most beautiful living woman I have ever seen" walking with a funeral procession. There to bury her dead husband, the widow (Anna Falchi) is obviously sad. But Francesco doesn't care, he must talk to her. However, shooting the dead with a brain-destroying accuracy and chatting up shapely Italian women are two totally different things. In other words, he blows it. Wondering if he'll ever get another chance to talk her, Francesco mulls over his options. Luckily, the widow is quite punctual when it comes to putting flowers on his dead husband's grave.
 

 

Ossuary: A container or receptacle, such as an urn or a vault, for holding the bones of the dead.
 

 

Who would have thought the cemetery's ossuary would turn out to be the reason the widow takes a liking to Francesco. Personally, I thought Rupert Everett's handsomeness was going to be the deciding factor. But, no, it was the cemetery's fully-stacked ossuary that made the widow's Italian pussy ache with desire.
 

 

Even though she's wearing a black veil over her face, you could easily tell that the widow was turned on by the ragged clothing, the bones, the tree roots, the wetness, and the general creepiness of the ossuary. Hey, whatever floats your boat, honey.
 

 

Running off in a huff after they started to make out (she doesn't want to dishonour he husband's memory), Francesco finds the widow standing in the moonlight (just one of the films many stunning images). Well, since she ran off, it's obvious that the widow has done some impromptu soul searching, and eventually decides that having sexual intercourse on her husband's grave with Rupert Everett is not only the correct course of action, it's the only sane one.
 

 

Was it, though? Whatever do you mean? It's Rupert Everett. So, yeah. Of course it was the "correct" thing to do. But her husband "returns" during a post-coital lull and bites her. I guess that's one of the negatives about having sex on the graves of loved ones in cemeteries known for having somewhat of a zombie problem.
 

 

Looking at him, you wouldn't think that Gnaghi (François Hadji-Lazaro), Francesco's developmentally challenged assistant, would turn out to be such a compelling character. After all, he's sharing the screen with Rupert Everette and Anna Falchi. But, to put it bluntly, Gnaghi rules! In town to meet with the mayor, Francesco, who has brought along Gnaghi, is there to talk business. When all of a sudden, Gnaghi spots Valentina Scanarotti (Fabiana Formica) sitting across the table from him. Who is she, you ask? Why she's the mayor's adorable teenage daughter. And judging by the amount of vomit that spews from his mouth (most of it landing on Valentina, causing her fly backwards in her chair), it's clear that Gnaghi is in love.
 

 

As expected, the puke approach wasn't a very effective method when it came to picking up the mayor's daughter. Distraught, Gnaghi runs home crying. Oh, poor Gnaghi. Why can't you catch a break? Wait a minute. What's this? Word on the street is that Valentina was just decapitated in a terrible motorcycle accident, one that also killed her biker boyfriend Claudio and a bus filled with boy scouts. Yay! Gnaghi is going to so pleased. What the hell? Don't you see? In roughly seven days, Gnaghi can begin wooing Valentina's severed head.
 

 

Of course, before the courtship of Valentina's severed head can begin, Francesco and Gnaghi must to fend off the hordes of zombie boy scouts that are about to come their way.
 

 

Speaking of cemeteries, did you know I used to cut through a cemetery when I walked to school? And get this, I didn't really have to. You see, there were two options when it came to walking to school. The first involved traversing the grounds of a Catholic school and the other was the cemetery option. And even though the former was somewhat quicker, I usually went with the latter. Unfortunately, the crowd/unruly mob I rolled with eventually shunned the cemetery root. Leaving me with a difficult decision. And that being, to quote "Subdivisions" by Rush, "conform or be cast out." 
 

 

That's fascinating and all, but would you walk through the cemetery featured in Cemetery Man? Well, let's take a look at the pluses and minuses, shall we? On the plus side: You might spot the hunky watchman and his shapely Italian girlfriend having sex on a tombstone. As for the minuses? Duh, flesh-eating zombies. Actually, the fact that it's so damn hilly was the cemetery's biggest minus. And I ain't walking up no fucking hill to get to school. Someone get my ass a bus pass, stat!  
 

 

The film gets increasingly dark and twisted when Death (who manifests himself by using the charred pages of a burnt phone book) tells Francesco Dellamorte to just kill the living. The logic being that it will save him the trouble of having to shoot them when they inevitably emerge from their coffins. He also starts to wonder what the rest of the world looks like (he has spent most of his life in the cemetery). Complicating matters even more is when different versions of Anna Falchi start to show up. My favourite, of course, being Zombie Falchi.
 

 

At the end of the day, I was most enamoured with the relationship between Gnaghi and Valentina's severed head (which he keeps in his broken television). We only get a brief glimpses of its majesty, but from what I saw, it was downright squee-worthy. In fact, I would have liked to have seen a spin-off that featured these two; a sitcom or maybe even a mini-series. The obvious title being, "Head Over Heels," the less obvious one being, "Undiagnosed Schizophrenic Loves Teenage Head." Oh, and fans of unorthodox camera angles will love the scene where Valentina's head lunges at her father's neck. Anyway, Cemetery Man is easily one of the best horror films of the 1990s. Oh, and keep an eye out for Michele Soavi regular Barbara Cupisti as a college student (her presence was sorely missed in The Sect).

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The Church (Michele Soavi, 1989)

You're raging ball of adorableness named Asia Argento, you're fourteen, no, wait, you're fifteen, yeah, fifteen years old, and you have a choice: Either you can hang out in a moldy Gothic church with your equally moldy parents, or go clubbing in striped tights. Damn, that's a tough one. Just kidding. The correct answer is: Clubbing. Okay, before I continue, I'm curious: When do you think Asia Argento is going to turn eighteen? The only reason I ask is that I wanna be able to monitor the amount of creepiness I put out there when talking about a teenage Asia Argento prancing about in Michele Soavi's The Church, the supernatural follow up to his amazing debut, Stage Fright, the best slasher film ever to feature a chainsaw-wielding maniac wearing a giant owl head. You see, I don't want to come off as a creep. Yet, I don't want to stifle my true self, either. That's not to say that my true self is a creep. On the contrary, I just don't want to be hamstrung by the square values of others. So, without further ado, I do solemnly swear that Asia Argento's innate cuteness will not be ignored over the course of this review. That being said, I also promise that I will not cross the imaginary line that dictates what is appropriate and what is inappropriate when waxing about the smoothness of Asia's soon to be sexy knees. Hey, isn't Asia Argento related to director Dario Argento, who is credited as one of the screenwriters on this movie? Good idea. Let's talk about that. Yeah, she is related to him. She's the daughter of director Dario Argento and actress Daria Nicolodi (Delirium: Photo of Gioia). Isn't that nepotism? I guess. But even at such a young age, it's clear that Asia has talent. How can you tell? Well, for one thing, you can see it in her eyes. While most actresses are devoid of anything close to resembling a personality, Asia Argento's aura is literally oozing five buckets worth of charm-aligned spunk at any given moment.
 

 

It's a good thing Asia's got spunk, because it would seem that Barbara Cupisti forgot to bring any of her precious spunk; the same spunk that served her so well in the giant owl head movie. Sure, her character can jump through a window without getting as much as a scratch, but what kind of final girl allows herself to be violated by a sexually active goat demon on a concrete slab in the basement of a Gothic cathedral that is about to collapse? I'll tell you what kind, the kind that don't make wisecracks right before they perform the coup de grâce on the film's primary antagonist. Besides, there's no-one to crack wise to in The Church, as the evil in this film doesn't even have a physical body.
 

 

Supposedly going all the way back to the days when the Teutonic Knights ruled Europe with a spiky-gloved fist, the malevolent force in this film has been patiently waiting to return to the land of the living. Opening with a group of said knights galloping through the forest, we're quickly sucked into their bloody, evil-vanquishing world. Ordered to murder the entire population of a small medieval village (don't be fooled by their big grey eyes), the knights (their helmets adorned with cross-shaped eye-slits) make short work of the peasants (stabbing and slicing their way through everyone in sight). After the slaughter has finished, we're whisked away to a large makeshift burial pit, where a mass grave is being prepared.
 

 

When some of the dead bodies start to twitch, a dude wearing a robe begins to freak out. It would seem that the peasants are in fact in league with the Devil. In order to placate their revenge, the ground is blessed and a church is built on top of their burial pit. And not just any church, a large, Gothic-style cathedral; the kind that will someday attract Hungarian tourists.
 

 

Oh, and before the ground is blessed (a large cross is placed on top of the burial mound), a knight comes across a survivor wearing a wicker mask. When the knight removes the survivor's mask, it turns out to be a young girl. And not only that, the young girl is played by none other than Asia Argento. I don't know about you, but I sure hope this isn't the extent of Asia's role in The Church, 'cause it's implied that the knight stabs her with a spear.
 

 

Anyway, flash-forward to modern times, well, sort they're of modern, it's the late 1980s, and we get a first hand look at the church; it has pews, priests, a yuppie librarian, frescoes, and an elderly bishop. In other words, it's your avenge place of worship. However, we know something sinister rumbling underneath its so-called hallowed ground. Actually, I have a feeling the bishop (Feodor Chaliapin Jr.) knows about the rumblings as well, as he looks like he's hiding something. Or maybe that's just his normal demeanour; after all, he is old as fuck.
 

 

A sense of relief washes over me, as the next thing we see is Asia Argento's Lotte watching Evan (Tomas Aranas) the church's new librarian, arrive for his first day on the job. Spotting her hiding behind a desk, Evan introduces himself to Lotte, the daughter of Hermann (Roberto Corbiletto), the church's sacristan. Of course, the bishop interrupts them, and proceeds to scold Evan for being late. While the bishop is giving a lame ass sermon, we're also introduced to the church's reverend (Giovanni Lombardo Radice), Father Gus (Hugh Quarshie), and Lisa (Barbara Cupisti), the woman who's in charge of restoring the church's many frescoes.
 

 

Since Lotte is a tad on the young side, Evan hits on Lisa instead; he even pretends to care about the cracks she's trying to fill. Now, you would think the film is going to be chiefly about Evan and Lisa, and the relationship that develops between them as they attempt to decipher an ancient parchment. If you think that, you're partially right, as the film does follow their quest solve the church's many mysteries. But the film is nowhere near being that cut and dry.
 

 

Take, for instance, the scenes where Lotte sneaks out of the church at night, utilizing a secret passage that only she knows about, in order to go clubbing. They give us some great insight into what it must feel like to be a girl on the verge of womanhood. You know how I'm always saying how if I could come back as anyone, I would wanna come back as Mischa Barton when she was a teenager? Well, I think I'm ready to move on and openly declare that I now want to be an adolescent Asia Argento. Call me an unctuous blob of fatty acid, but I think I could accomplish so much more as an underage Asian Argento than I ever could as a juvenile Miss Mischa Barton. At least that's the vibe I picked up as I watched Asia saunter down the street in her skimpy, new wave-friendly black dress.
 

 

They may not show where she's going in that skimpy, new wave-friendly black dress (on top of being skimpy, it's shoulderless, too), but you can tell that teenage Asia Argento totally means business.
 

 

You know who doesn't like Asia Argento's skimpy, new wave-friendly black dress? Her sacristan father, that's who. In fact, he actually slaps her after he smells booze and cigarette smoke on her. Wait a minute, he slapped her? I know, what an asshole. Well, what do you expect from a sacristan?
 

 

While Lisa is busy reading Fulcanelli, Evan's making some serious inroads with the ancient parchment. All he has do to is find the "stone with seven eyes" and he should be well on his way. Oh, and how many of you thought Evan's attempt to get Lisa to read Fulcanelli was just a ploy to distract her? I wonder. Well, don't wonder for too long, because Evan's already started to snoop around in the church's eerie labyrinth of subterranean tunnels and caverns.
 

 

The jump scare that accompanies the snooping scene where Evan kneels in front of the stone with the seven eyes caused me to do just that, jump while slightly scared. I don't know, I guess I didn't expect the bag he finds to contain what it contained. The "jump scare," while an important horror ingredient, nothing gets my motor running more than a well-executed music cue. And The Church has the mother of all music cues. Clearly shaken by "the bag incident," Evan is struggling to come to grips with what has happened to him. His speech is slurred and his appearance dishevelled, Evan reaches into his chest and pulls out his heart. As he's lifting his still beating heart aloft in triumph (the sky has since turned blood red), Martin Goldray's version of Philip Glass' "Floe" begins to percolate on the soundtrack. The camera suddenly begins to zoom through streets with a lightening speed. A point-of-view tour of the city after dark set to the music of Philip Glass, it doesn't get anymore awesome than this. Or does it?
 

 

What could possibly be more awesome than a super-fast tour of an European city set to the music of Philip Glass? Don't look now, but Asia Argento is wearing striped tights. All right, try to remain calm. Yeah, but, she's wearing...I know what she's wearing. Just relax for a second. What you need to do is take a deep breath. Okay, I'm good. Are you sure? Yeah, let's do this. In the long, storied history of striped tights in movies, never has a pair of striped tights caused so much inner turmoil within the fetish community. Appearing briefly for a only few seconds (I know, what a gyp), Asia Argento's striped tights in The Church are on par with Samantha Mathis' striped tights in Pump Up the Volume. Holy crap! I can't believe you just went there. Oh, I went there. You realize that Samantha Mathis in Pump Up the Volume is the gold standard in which all instances where striped tights are worn in movies are judged. Yeah, I'm well aware of the legacy of Samantha Mathis' striped tights. It's just that I was blown away by the fact that Asia Argento and Samantha Mathis were both wearing striped tights at around the same time (both movies were filmed in 1988-89).
 

 

I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but while you were going on about striped tights, Lisa was attacked by a sexually active goat demon. Yeah, so what? I guess you have a point. Either way, don't expect find any sympathy from Evan. Why not? Well, for one thing, he's probably the sexually active goat demon in question. Besides, check out the dress Asia Argento is currently wearing. Aww, c'mon, man. You just did a whole bit about her, what was it? Oh, yeah, her "skimpy, new wave-friendly black dress, and, not to mention, her black and white striped tights. I know, but this dress is made from a print that features a map of Europe. Really? Yeah, the shoulder is covered with the Balkans. You heard right, the Balkans! How fucking chic is that? Okay, I'll admit. That's pretty fucking chic.
 

 

What the Hell? Evan is scoping Asia's, I mean, Lotte's legs in the church's library while she's painting his fingernails and listening to music on something called a "walkman." I know he's since turned into a sexually active goat demon and all, and scoping adolescent Asia Argento gams is par for the course for sexually active goat demons. But show some respect, Evan. She's only fifteen. Sure, she'll be eighteen in three years, two, if you pretend she's sixteen, one, if you, well, you get the idea. But still, try to muster a little self-control. Oh, and you know how I knew Evan had been removed from his gourd? He stopped brushing his floppy bangs out of his face. Lax bang management is one of the tell tale signs that someone has become possessed by a sexually active goat demon (look it up).
 

 

Since no-one wants to watch a bunch of priests being harrowed by an unseen entity lurking underneath a Gothic cathedral, a group of children on a school trip, a pair of bickering bikers, an elderly couple (who bicker just as much as the bickering bikers do), and the members of a bridal photo shoot, including a "bridal model" (Antonella Vitale), are added to the mix to give the film's insane finale an added kick in the pants. Trapped inside the church (the cathedral has a built-in security system), these people slowly become the focus of the movie as the characters of Evan, Lisa, and even Lotte, to a certain degree, take a backseat to these frightened newcomers. That being said, we do get to finally see Asia Argento in a nightclub setting during this period in the film; I can't tell you how pleased I was by this brief yet important scene. At any rate, as the temple of flesh (a tower made out of human bodies) began to rise from the depths of Hell, it dawned on me that this film is yet another glorious example of unchecked Italian insanity. I mean, you just can't find this level of crazy anywhere else. Don't believe me? A character at one point commits suicide with a jack hammer. 'Nuff said.
 

 

What do you mean that's not enough said? Okay, fine. A veiled public service announcement on the dangers of church-going, The Church is the film to watch for all your teenage Asia Argento needs.

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Stage Fright (Michele Soavi, 1987)

They say the show must go on, but this is ridiculous! Am I right, fellas? Ladies? Please tell me I'm right. Anybody? Fuck this shit. I don't need your validation. Artistic types are a funny bunch. And I've noticed that some of them will do just about anything to advance their so-called "art." Well, in the amazing Stage Fright, a stylish Italian slasher flick from Michele Soavi (The Sect) that features drills, knives, pickaxes, chainsaws, regular axes, and a hungry lionfish, one "artist" sees the grisly murder of a co-worker as a way to increase ticket sales. Little does he know, a killer is on the prowl. Wait a minute. What do you mean, "little does he know"? How could he not know? While I can't get inside the mind of a chain-smoking theatre director, one who pretends to be horrified when a seamstress working on the production of his play "The Night Owl" takes a pickaxe to the face one rain-soaked evening. However, I can judge his actions. And, I must say, he was completely right to exploit the death of the lowly crew member. But she wore a Cramps tour t-shirt...backwards! Yes, the irregularly worn Cramps tour shirt made her cool and junk, but she said it was bad luck when a black cat passed her path. I know, you're thinking to yourself, so what? Oh, boy. You should know by now that anybody who perpetuates such superstitious nonsense about black cats automatically loses their coolness in my book. She could have been wearing a Skinny Puppy t-shirt from, oh, let's say, their 1990 Too Dark Park tour, and I still would have deducted her of cool points. Yeah, but the theatre director dude picks up a black cat by the scruff of the neck. It's true, he does pick up a black cat in that manner at one point. But I never said he was cool, I just said I understood his desire to take advantage of an underlings untimely demise. You see, in the world art, you need to strike while the iron is hot.
 

 

An unscrupulous theatre director named Peter (David Brandon), and Ferrari (Piero Vida), his equally unscrupulous financial backer, think they have stumbled upon the ultimate public relations gimmick to sell their "intellectual musical" to the masses. However, and I'm 100% not sure if they're aware of this, but murder is serious business. In hindsight, I think they should have waited for the iron to cool down a few degrees, because they have no idea what kind of chaos they have unleashed. Sure, their greed unwittingly leads to an inordinate amount of legginess. But if bifurcation is one of the byproducts of their symbiotic selfishness, you can count me out. Hey, I like sexy, stocking-encased gams as much as the next guy. But call me old fashioned, but I like them when they're attached to a torso, preferably one with a living head atop its equally alive shoulders.
 

 

A black cat slinks past a pair of silver pumps standing on a sidewalk strewn with cigarette butts. Poured inside the pumps are two feet that are connected to a couple of legs that are sheathed in black nylons covered with a vine-like pattern. Let me stop there you for a second. Why are you telling me all this? Haven't you heard? The film, Stage Fright, one of the best slasher flicks I have ever seen, opens with a shot of Barbara Cupisti's feet, and then the camera slowly pans up her legs, which, like I said, are sheathed in a pair of black stockings with a vine theme, past her stomach and chest until will reach her face. In other words, I'm going to try squeeze out every inch of awesomeness this film has to offer. And, believe me, it's got a lot to offer.
 

 

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, the film opens with a close-up of Barbara Cupisti's nylon-adorned legs standing on a sidewalk. As the camera finishes panning up her appropriately whorish frame, which is clad in the aforementioned silver pumps and vine-inspired hosiery, a gold skirt, a black, belly-revealing tank-top, and a curly blonde wet poodle wig, Barbara takes a drag on her cigarette and surveys the grimy street life. Stopping near a dark doorway to straighten her hose, she is suddenly pulled into the dark doorway by an unseen assailant. Her screams attract a throng of pimps, junkies, and fellow streetwalkers, as they're all curious to know what happened to the lithe prostitute. Just as the music on the soundtrack is about to go into overdrive, a man with an owl head dives out of the dark doorway and begins to...dance!
 

 

As the camera pulls back on the street scene, the owl man continuing to dance up a storm, West Side Story-style (the owl man has since been joined by the pimps, junkies and whores), it is slowly revealed that this isn't real life, but merely a set on a stage. I knew something was up the moment a brief shot of a woman dressed like Marilyn Monroe from The Seven Year Itch playing the saxophone on the roof of one of the fake buildings enters the frame. Anyway, while Alicia (Barbara Cupisti) is lying on stage pretending to be dead, Peter, the play's director, looks on in horror. Unconvinced, he yells at her, "You're supposed to be a whore!" Ouch! What's this guy's problem. I thought Alicia was a first-rate whore. Either way, Peter is not a happy camper (they're supposed to open in a week).
 

 

Meanwhile, backstage, my favourite character is busy shaving her armpits and applying makeup to her gorgeous gob. It didn't take long, but I knew the second I saw Laurel (Mary Sellers), Alicia's acting rival, that my rooting interest would be squarely in her corner. I don't know, there was something about her face, wide eyes and full lips that appealed to me. My love for her was pretty much made official the moment she dons her red fright wig, matching red tights, and slipped on her blue dress with the puffy sleeves.
 

 

The guy wearing the owl head, by the way, is Brett (Giovanni Lombardo Radice, House on the Edge of the Park), a struggling actor whose seen it all. When he's not stomping around backstage complaining about his costume, the Dorothy-adjacent Brett can be usually found exchanging insults with Laurel; the fact that Laurel could hold her own with such a catty cunt was a testament to her claw-like charisma.
 

 

On top of finding out who wears the owl head in this movie, we also meet Betty (Ulrike Schwirk), the show's seamstress, and, it would seem, Alicia's only friend in the entire production; well, Ferrari likes her, but in a more unseemly way. Oh, and don't you dare compare the way I feel about Laurel to the sick thing Ferrari has going on with Alicia, they're totally different. A stagehand named Mark (Martin Philips) is spotted at one point and so is Sybil (Jo Ann Smith), an actress with short blonde hair who is talking on the telephone.
 

 

While I was admiring the fact that Sybil is wearing black hold-up stockings over top a pair of tan pantyhose, Brett makes a crack about Laurel's old job, which apparently involved microwaving chilly at a restaurant called "Mexico Joe's." What an asshole. Good line, though. I only wish Giovanni and Mary Sellers had more scenes like this together, as their shrewish back and forth was one of the film's strong points during the early going.  That being said, it's not really needed once the synthesizer-enhanced mayhem begins to kick up its heels.
 

 

Speaking of synthesizers, we get our first taste of the electronic instrument during Alicia and Betty's trip to the hospital. You see, Alicia's ankle hurts, so, Betty, using something called a "phone book," discovers that there's one just down the road. Still wearing her hooker outfit, and Betty, who is wearing a jacket over her backwards Cramps tour t-shirt, with the help of Willy (James Sampson), the caretaker of Stage No. 3, head out. (The reason they need Willy's help is because they're under strict orders not to leave.) When they get there, they're shocked to discover it's a mental hospital for the criminally insane. I wonder what the scene where a nurse feeds guppies to a lionfish is supposed represent? Hmmm. Yeah, well, one of the doctors agrees to help Alicia, and ends up massaging her thigh. Um, hello? I said it was ankle that hurt, and that's clearly not my ankle. Actually, she doesn't to mind the superfluous thigh-groping.
 

 

While walking down hall, Alicia notices a creepy patient in one of the rooms. It turns out it's demented serial killer Irving Wallace (Clain Parker), an actor whose killing spree cost the lives of sixteen people. What are odds of Irving breaking out of the hospital, following Alicia and Betty back to Stage No. 3, and continuing his love for serial killing? I'm going to go out on a limb, and say, pretty high.
 

 

You would have thought that Alicia was the one who had murdered a bunch of people judging by the way Peter treats her when she comes back from the hospital. Told to pack up her things and get out, Alicia slinks off, as Laurel grins sheepishly off to the side; to add insult to injury, Laurel fans herself with a harpie-esque aplomb.
 

 

The rain drenched parking lot of Stage No. 3 is not a safe place, as Betty is about to find out. Running back into the studio, Alicia tells the others that something terrible has happened. As the police and actors gather around the crime scene, it's obvious that Peter sees her death as opportunity. Telling the press that Betty was an actress (he wants to exploit the events to maximum effect, as no-one is going to care about some dead seamstress), Peter does a quick re-write of his script, so that it mirrors the real life horror, and informs the cast (including Alicia, who's back in Peter's good graces) that they will be rehearsing all-night.
 

 

Realizing that some of the actors might not want to spend the night rehearsing, especially when you consider what happened out in the parking lot, Peter instructs an actress named Corinne (Loredana Parrella) to hide the key. This action all but seals their fate, as they have been unwittingly locked inside a dark warehouse with a deranged mad man. Actually, that doesn't sound so bad. Oh, it doesn't, eh? Well, wait until he puts on the giant owl head, as there's something extra unnerving about a man wielding a chainsaw in a giant owl head. Think about it: A man without a giant owl head wielding a chainsaw is still pretty scary. Okay, now try to imagine that very same man, but instead of no giant owl head, picture him wearing a giant owl head. Pretty scary, right?
 

 

Don't look now, but Mary Sellers is about to remove her red wig. She's about to what? Oh my God. Forget about psycho-killers who wear giant owl heads for dramatic effect, this is the moment I've dreading throughout Stage Fright, and I can't believe it's about to happen; I'm literally on the near the area of my seat if it were the kind of seat that had edges (bean bag chairs don't have edges, dingus). Will Mary Sellers' Laurel be able to maintain her allure sans wig? I'm going to have to say, that, yes, Mary Sellers does manage maintain her allure. If anything, I thought she managed increase her allure. Oh, you would say that. No, seriously. Well, for one thing, her legginess rating increased by at least six points on the leggy scale, as the black slip she changes into did nothing but accentuate the sturdiness of her long, dancer legs. And secondly, the way the pink hair scarf commingled with her natural brown locks was surprisingly effective.
 

 

I liked how Laurel, despite the chaos caused by the owl head killer, still managed...yeah, yeah, we know, she managed to maintain her allure. No, what I was gonna say was: I liked how Laurel kept trying undermine Alicia during the mayhem. The part where she blames Alicia for bringing the killer to Stage No. 3 was one example. Which, if you think about it, is absolutely true. I mean, if it wasn't for her trip to the hospital, none of this would have happened. And the other example was when Laurel knocks Alicia off a ladder. But again, Alicia was grabbing her Laurel's leg. Hey, Alicia. Stop grabbing her leg, you thin-lipped hosebeast, a full-lipped goddess with eyes the size of dinner plates is trying to climb that fucking ladder.
 

 

If you're in any way concerned about Jo Ann Smith's black hold-up stockings over top tan pantyhose pulling the same stunt as a Mary Sellers' wig. Don't worry, they remain attached to her doll-like frame for the duration of the movie. Um, actually, that's not entirely true. How 'bout this: They remain attached to her legs for the duration of the movie. Yeah, that's much better. You'll know what I'm talking about once you see the movie.
 

 

Oh, and I wasn't kidding when I casually called Stage Fright, "one of the best slasher flicks I have ever seen." I don't how Michele Soavi managed to pull this off, but the film contains all the ingredients I look for in a good slasher flick. Leggy babes in peril, intense synthesizer flourishes, grisly murder sequences (pickaxes, drills, knives, and chainsaws), a black cat who has a habit of making his or her presence felt during moments that could best described as "inappropriate," sexy outfits (do I have to mention Sybil's hosiery double whammy again?), a vivid colour scheme, and a great location. This film has it all. Hell, even the killer is cool. And you wouldn't think so given the fact that he wears a giant owl head. But you know what? I slowly grew to like the idea of a killer who wears a giant owl head. It's a testament to a filmmaker working at the height of his or her talent, when they can employ something that could easily induce ridicule in a way that seems effortless.

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