A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (Chuck Russell, 1987)

To be fair, Heather Langenkamp's Nancy Thompson was only sixteen or seventeen years-old in the first movie (even though, according to her, she looked twenty). In other words, I shouldn't have expected too much, as far as sophistication goes, when it came to her clothes and make-up. Unwilling to cut her and her movie a break, I deemed A Nightmare on Elm Street as un-reviewable after it was over. Not giving me much to work with when it came to style and fashion, I rejected the film on that basis, and that basis alone. Don't get me wrong, the film, written and directed by Wes Craven (The People Under the Stairs), is definitely well-made. It just failed to move me. On the other hand, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge did nothing but move me. Seriously, I love that movie. With my interest in the Freddy K. saga reinvigorated thanks to the gayest horror sequel the 1980s ever produced, I was ready to continue my journey down Elm Street. Unfortunately, the first name listed in the opening credits for A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors was Heather Langenkamp. This caused me much alarm, as I feared that part three would be a repeat of what happened in the first film. Sure, this one is directed by Chuck Russell, who also made the amazing remake of The Blob. But that being said, my expectations, I have to say, were pretty low as things got underway.

My mood perked up almost immediately, however, as Chuck Russell's immense talent as a filmmaker is clearly evident in the opening scene. Which features Patricia Arquette's Kirsten Parker wandering through a creepy nightmare-world. It's true, all the films in the series so far (even Mahalkaal, the Bollywood remake of the first film) boast opening scenes that feature frightened dreamers exploring the sinister confines of their own nightmares. But the scene that opens A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is way more polished than the others.

So, like I said, I was in a good mood. What I mean is. I'm not going to let Heather Langenkamp's lack of flair in the fashion department ruin what could potentially be a pretty effective horror sequel.

After Kristen Parker's weird dream is over, her mega-milf of a mom, Elaine (the smokin' hot Brooke Bundy), finds her in the bathroom in the process of slitting her wrists. Even though we know that Fred Krueger (Robert Englund) is the one responsible for the wrist cutting, her mom sends her to a  juvenile psych ward run by... YES!!!! The  juvenile psych ward Kirsten is sent to is run by Craig Wasson, who played the white pantie-loving, porn-curious voyeur in Body Double.

Just as an orderly named Max (Larry Fishburne) is finishing up giving the audience a tour of the ward, we hear a commotion transpiring down the hall. It would seem that Kristen is having a bit of a conniption fit. Grabbing a scalpel, Kirsten threatens to cut anyone, including Craig Wasson's Neil Gordon and Max the orderly, who stands in her way.

As she's singing the One, Two, Freddy's Coming For You nursery rhyme, and about to really go off the deep end, an über-chic woman walks in the door and defuses the situation with a devil may care brand of elan. Hugging the über-chic woman, as the hospital staff look on with amazement, Kristen... Hold on. I don't believe this. The über-chic woman is Heather Langenkamp!

I don't know what happened between the first movie and this one, but Nancy Thompson is no longer the gawky teen with terrible taste in clothes we once knew. No, what you're looking at now is a modern woman who knows how to throw together an ensemble in a pinch.

We're talking blazers, skirts with slits, pumps, hats, shawls, pearls, lipstick, earrings, and blouses... lot's of blouses. (Don't forget, she carries a purse now.) Oh, yeah. She carries a purse. You see, teenagers don't have much use for purses. Adult women, however, need purses. After all, where else are they gonna put their experimental anti-psychotic medication?

Oh, haven't you heard? Nancy Thompson takes this drug to keep Fred Krueger at bay. She suggests to Neil that his patients, including Kristen; Kincaid, a.k.a. "Cool Breeze" (Ken Sagos); Joey (Rodney Eastman); Phillip, a.k.a. "The Walker" (Bradley Gregg); Jennifer (Penelope Sudrow); Will, a.k.a. "The Wizard Master" (Ira Heiden); and Taryn (Jennifer Rubin), take the drug as well, but he's a tad hesitant, as he doesn't buy the whole "a knife-glove-wielding serial killer is tormenting the children of the parents who burned him to death in their dreams" story.

During her first night at the hospital, Kirsten is confronted in her dreams by Fred Krueger. Except, instead of simply slashing her to death with his knife-glove, Fred transforms himself into a giant worm. As the Fred worm is consuming Kristen, she decides to yell out Nancy's name. And lo and behold, Nancy hears her, and, get this, enters Kirsten's dream to help her. (Wait, she can do that?) Apparently. It's a pretty cool addition to the mythology.

The next day, all the patient characters I mentioned earlier and Nancy and Neil partake in a group session, where "straight-talk" is encouraged. Other than Taryn's weird hand gestures, the only other thing worth noting about this scene is that Phillip has a lot of dialogue. Hmm, I wonder if he's going to be Fred's first victim.

As Nancy and Neil talk Hypnocil (an experimental anti-psychotic medication) at Springwood's best and only Thai restaurant, and Joey and Will sleep in shifts (the logic being, they can wake each other if their dreams get too intense), Phillip begins to sleepwalk through the ward. Sounds innocent enough. Except, Phillip, a guy who makes marionette puppets in his spare time, is being controlled by Fred. And instead of using puppet string, Fred is using Phillip's tend... You know what? I can't finish talking about this scene. It has to be one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen.
  

While not as disturbing as the tendon puppet scene, the TV room scene is just as memorable. It also causes you to start paying attention to what the characters are saying. You see, Phillip mentions that he likes to make his own puppets, and he's killed in the manner I alluded to earlier. And the TV room character says something about wanting to be on television someday.

Well, I guess you can't really pay attention to what Joey says, as he doesn't talk. But he does openly lust after  Nurse Marcie (Stacey Alden), who, for some strange reason, doesn't wear white stockings (she does wear a white thong, though). Meaning, you can expect Fred to use Joey's thing for Nurse Marcie when it comes to time to fuck his shit up.

Anyway, the fact that each character's run-in with Fred corresponds with an aspect of their personality is one of the film's strong points. My favourite run-in, of course, being Fred's back-alley confrontation with Taryn, whose dream persona is a double switchblade-wielding punk rocker.

When I first saw Taryn (moping the halls of the hospital like a unkempt rag-doll), I was like: Why is she so goddamn frumpy? I mean, someone lend this girl a hair brush, stat. Little did I know that they were going to give her the punk makeover to end all punk makeovers later on in the movie.

Oh, and being that she's a recovering drug addict, Taryn should expect Fred to use her addiction against her when the time comes.

When it becomes obvious that Freddy plans on bumping off the youthful patients one by one, Nancy, Kristen and those not killed yet, decide to confront him as a team, or, you could say, confront him as "dream warriors."

While I'll admit, I have a major soft spot for A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge, I can't deny that A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is superior in almost every way imaginable. Now, granted, it doesn't have part two's gay subtext, but there's more to life than gay subtexts. Seriously, the so-called "kills" are so wonderfully inventive, that you'll have no choice to look past the fact that it has zero gay subtext. Or maybe it does (have a gay subtext), and I just missed it. Nah.

Nightmare Beach (Umberto Lenzi, 1989)

In a Florida bar packed with rowdy spring breakers, a comely young woman named Rachael asks a boy named Skip to go for a walk. Now, here's the thing. Either I was too busy bathing in the dark, foreboding whirlpools that are Rachael's feverish eyeballs or I'm losing my hearing, but I don't think I actually heard Skip's reply. Wait, why is Rachael leaving? Or, I should say, why isn't Skip leaving with her? What's that? He said no?!? Who in their right mind wouldn't want to go for a walk with the most attractive woman in all of Manatee Beach? Hold up, forget Manatee Beach. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to go for a walk with the most attractive woman in all of Miami-Dade County? Oh, and don't give me any of this crap about him being depressed about losing the Orange Bowl. I mean, quarterbacks who blow big games can still walk, right? I know what's going on, Skip prefers light and sparkly to dark and foreboding. In other words, Skip has a thing for Gail the bartender, whose eyes are–you guessed it–light and sparkly. If that's the case, I'm going to have to cut Skip some slack, as I can't force people to like who I like. But dude, you were offered a night of mind-blowing sexual intercourse with the most attractive woman in all of Miami-Dade County, and what did you do? You dropped the ball (being a football player, you should know exactly what I mean).

And, yes, I realize she only asked you to go for a walk. But as everyone knows, all walks in Florida eventually lead to hours of mind-blowing sexual intercourse. And that's not just me taking a cheap shot at Florida (the state is a popular punching bag within the hack comedian community), I'm simply stating a fact.

I'm sorry, I totally forgot to mention the name of the movie I'm currently reviewing. Even though it's obvious, it's customary to at least mention the name of the movie you're reviewing. Well, here it goes, it's called Nightmare Beach (a.k.a. La spiaggia del terrore). And while it might look like your average spring break set slasher film, underneath that bubbly exterior lies a ferocious Italian giallo made by actual Italians.

I know, "Harry Kirkpatrick" doesn't sound all that Italian. Well, that's because "Harry Kirkpatrick" is the pseudonym being used by the one and only Umberto Lenzi. That's right, the director of Cannibal Ferox and Nightmare City. And just like in those movies, lot's of people die... horribly.

Since the film's cold opening is such a downer (a biker named "Diablo" is executed in the electric chair for a crime he claims he did not commit), the film tries to lighten the mood a bit by giving us a playful montage featuring cars, bikinis and sunshine.

I'm no math whiz, but I'd say at least ninety percent of the people frolicking on the beach in the opening montage had no idea they were in a movie. I'm not complaining, as I found their obliviousness to be actually quite refreshing. Nowadays, everyone acts as if they're staring in their own reality show. But back in 1989, people lived their lives with a certain degree of anonymity. Sure, a lot of them still wanted to be famous, but most had very little recourse in the getting famous department, and continued to toil away in the shadows with no complaints. Or, in this film's case, toil in the hot Florida sun (not to be a major buzzkill, but I'd say at least half the people in this movie went on to develop skin cancer in the mid-to-late '90s).

After the montage is over, we get our first stolen wallet and our first ghoulish prank. Usually occurring at the same time, the stolen wallet/ghoulish prank gag is implemented a total of four times over the course of the film. Did anyone else think the wallet thief and the ghoulish prankster were in cahoots? Just me, eh?

Sitting in the back of a friend's convertible with a haughty grace, teenage hellion in training, Rachael Bates (Debra Gallagher), is a walking, talking one woman adorable symposium. Noticing her father, Rev. Bates (Lance LeGault), chatting with Lt. Strycher (John Saxon) and Dr. Willet (Michael Parks), Rachael attempts to hide the can of beer she's holding. She might be adorable, but she really needs to work on her beer hiding skills. Despite being busted, Rachael remains defiant, and refuses her father's request to stay with her Aunt Agnes, a woman she calls a "senile old hag."

While that line is great, Michael Parks' drunken doctor tops it with relative ease when he delivers this gem soon afterward: "Welcome to Spring Break... the annual migration of the idiot."

Speaking of idiots, here comes Skip (Nicolas De Toth) and Ronnie (Rawley Valverde), two college football players hoping to put the memory of losing the Orange Bowl behind them by getting drunk and having lot's of casual sex. Well, at least Ronnie seems interested in doing those things. You see, it was Skip's interception that cost them the game. Meaning, he's in no mood to party in the late 1980s.

We get proof of this in the very next scene when Rachael approaches Skip and says, "Hi, you're cute. Wanna take a walk with me?"

This is the face Rachael makes when she hears Skip's answer.

Never in my life have I wanted to beat a man to death more than I did when I saw what Skip's response did to Rachael's face. And get this, this Skip fella is supposed to be the film's hero.

I'm not saying Skip had to agree to Rachael's request, I just think he could have handled it better. If anything, at least handle it in a way that will not cause Rachael make the face she sports seconds after hearing his reply, as I don't want to ever see that face again.

To be fair, Rachael isn't the only woman to be rejected by Skip in this movie. While attending a wet t-shirt contest with Ronnie, Skip looks depressed. Don't you think the women currently having water poured on their chests noticed this? Think about it. You're on stage, jiggling your tits for an enthusiastic crowd, then all of a sudden, you notice a man with a sour expression on his face. Wouldn't you take it personally? I know I would, and I don't have tits... at least not one's worthy enough to jiggle in public.

If that isn't enough, Skip actually rejects the woman he's supposed to be interested. It occurs when Gail, the bartender at a local bar (yes, the same bar Skip rejects Rachael at), who just spent a better part of the evening helping Skip look for Ronnie (who's gone missing), asks Skip if he would like to come in for coffee. Telling her "no thanks," Skip drives off, leaving Gail standing there in the shortest pleated yellow skirt the world has ever seen.

You could argue that Skip is playing it cool, but it was clear that Gail wanted his cock (for vaginal penetration purposes). And for Skip to not provide said cock (for vaginal penetration purposes) was not only the total opposite of cool... it was totally uncool.

At any rate, was anyone else amazed that Gail failed to furnish an upskirt during her lengthy time in that ridiculously short pleated yellow skirt? I know I was. Hey, Sarah Buxton. You owe me an upskirt.

You wouldn't know it judging by the words I've typed so far, but Nightmare Beach is actually about a serial killer who uses his or her (like in Nail Gun Massacre, the killer's gender in shrouded in mystery) motorcycle to electrocute his or her victims. However, since killing people in this manner has its limitations, the killer starts to employ more conventional methods as the film progresses.

That being said, if you were to ask Kimberly (Christina Kier), a popular masseuse, and Trina (Yamilet Hidalgo), a biker chick/denim vest enthusiast, I have a feeling that they would tell you that there was nothing conventional about the manner in which they were killed. Conventional or not, I'd say Kimberly and Lori's deaths were the best in terms of mood and gore. Oh, and don't worry, no one lays a finger on Rachael's pretty little head.

While not as mashugana as Creatures from the Abyss, Nightmare Beach is still a must-see for fans of Italian made horror films that are set in Florida.

Tenebre (Dario Argento, 1982)

Try to refrain from teasing Doberman Pinschers and always make sure to check the pulse of demented serial killers after they have supposedly slit their own throat with a razor. I don't know 'bout you, but I think these two pieces of advice will probably help four, maybe five people in the audience. In other words, they're not the kind of situations most of us will encounter over the course of your average day. However, there are literally millions of dark-haired Italian women out there, most likely dressed in all white, who will watch Tenebre in the hope that they might be able to pick up a few tips here and there on how to survive an attack by a razor-wielding psychopath with a grudge against society. Unfortunately, judging by the number of dark-haired Italian women who are stabbed, slashed and sliced to death in this movie, you could view it as a sort of guide pertaining to what not to do when confronted with a faceless killer wearing black gloves. I was going to suggest that maybe the dark-haired Italian women should arm themselves–you know, with a weapon of some kind. But then it dawned on me, in the film's most famous death scene involving a dark-haired Italian woman, the dark-haired Italian woman in question is holding–what I presume–is a loaded hand gun. The poster-girl for serial killer preparedness, the dark-haired Italian woman holding the loaded hand gun–get this–ends up losing the very hand she is holding the loaded hand gun with. I'm no forensic pathologist, but you can't cut off someone's hand with just one swipe from a razor. It's true, you can't. But who said the killer is using a razor? Uh, you did. Oh, yeah, that's right, I did. Well, the killer is now using an axe. And, as we all know, axes are perfect for chopping off hands. They're also perfect for redecorating a bland-looking white wall. Come again?!? I'm not following.

You see, when the axe cuts through human flesh, torrents of blood spew through the air. And if the person whose been hacked with an axe is standing next to a wall–preferably a white wall–it will instantly turn red. Getting back to my original point, if you're a dark-haired Italian woman and you were hoping to get some helpful pointers on how to survive an elaborately staged murder scene in a Dario Argento film, you're plum out of luck.

According to this film, which features the talented one two punch of Lamberto Bava (Delirium: Photo of Gioia) and Michele Soavi (Stage Fright) as first and second assistant directors (the latter appears as an actor as well), you're only chance for survival is to stand near a pointy avant garde sculpture and hope it falls in a manner that ends up putting the assailant permanently out of commission.

Why are you trying to give dark-haired Italian women tips on how to survive a Dario Argento film? I don't like to see people killed, especially attractive, dark-haired Italian women. Really? I don't buy it. In fact, the only reason you're watching this film is to see attractive, dark-haired Italian women murdered. I'm shocked that you would think that. Okay, try to imagine Tenebre without its four signature murder sequences. Oh my God! I'm not watching that. Fine. I like to watch attractive Italian women with dark hair murdered on film. Is that so wrong? You know what, don't answer that.

Besides, just as many men are murdered in this film than women are. I know, that doesn't exactly make things any less awkward. But still, it's comforting to know that men are murdered as well. Of course, the scenes involving men are nowhere near as stylish or exhilarating as the one's that feature dark-haired Italian women buying it.

Oh, in case you're wondering, the reason I call them "dark-haired Italian women" is because that's what they are. But the real reason has more to do with the fact that I don't know their names yet. What I mean is, I'm not familiar with the actresses who play the victims, and each time I call them "dark-haired Italian women" I feel as if I'm getting closer to knowing who they really are.

The film opens with a writer Peter Neal (Anthony Franciosa), one who specializes in sleazy murder mysteries, ridding to the airport, oh, let's say, LaGuardia, on his bike. As he's about to get on a plane to Rome, we notice that Jane (Veronica Lario), a dark-haired [possibly] Italian woman dressed all in white, is watching the author with much interest.

Meanwhile, in Rome, Elsa Manni (Ania Pieroni), a dark-haired [definitely] Italian woman dressed all in...wait a minute, her skirt is clearly pink. Whew! That's a relief. I thought for a minute there she was about to get murdered. Why are you looking at me like that? I thought you said only dark-haired Italian women dressed all in white are the one's who get brutally murdered in this film. And, from where I'm sitting, Elsa is not wearing all white. Let the scene play out first, you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Caught shoplifting a copy of Peter Neal's latest book "Tenebre," Elsa manages to weasel out of being charged by promising to have sex with the store's detective at a later date. Hitching a ride home on the back of a friend's motorcycle, Elsa's troubles aren't over as she has to contend with the grabbing hands of an unwashed derelict. Kicking him in the balls with her dark pumps, Elsa is able to get behind the gate of her home in time before the unwashed derelict can start grabbing at her again. Taking off her dark pumps (the real hero in the altercation with the unwashed derelict - Dark pumps. The very best there is. When you absolutely positively must kick the balls of every last unwashed derelict in the room, accept no substitutes), Elsa proceeds to remove her...

Stop! Don't remove your pink skirt that's pleated near the bottom. Don't you get it? Once you take off your pink skirt that's pleated near the bottom, you'll be wearing nothing but clothes that are white. Bah, what's the worst that could happen? Don't say I didn't warn you.

Wearing nothing but a white top, Elsa notices her phone isn't working. And just as she's about to turn around to do something Italian, a razor is being held to her throat and black gloved hand is stuffing pages of "Tenebre" into her mouth. I don't think I have to tell you what happens next.

Greeting Peter Neal at the airport in Rome is his agent, Bullmer (John Saxon), and a group of reporters, including Tilde (Mirella D'Angelo), a staunch lesbian who doesn't like the fact that her girlfriend, Marion (Mirella Banti), fucks dudes for money on the side.

You know this film needs? It needs some Daria Nicolodi. Oh, wait, there she is. Playing Anne, Peter Neal's secretary, Daria Nicolodi, you'll notice, has red hair, yet she's dressed in all white. I'm confused. I mean, it doesn't say anything here about redheaded Italian women dressed all in white. Oh, man. I don't know what to think now.

At any rate, when Peter Neal, Anne, and Gianni (Christian Borromeo), Peter Neal's youthful assistant, arrive at the hotel, two detectives, Det. Germani (Giuliano Gemma) and Inspector Altieri (Carola Stagnaro), are waiting for them. Informing the writer about the gruesome manner in which Elsa Manni was murdered (like I said, pages from his latest bestseller were stuffed into her mouth), the police also show him a menacing note from the killer that was sent to his hotel room.

While technically not a brunette, the gorgeous Eva Robin's (Bad Inclination) appears during these strange flashback  sequences that take place on a beach; hence the reason she's credited as "Girl on Beach." Dressed in a white dressed and wearing red pumps, Eva Robin's is surrounded by a bunch of faceless boys. One of them slaps her hard in the face, causing the other boys to tackle him. As they pin him to the sand, Eva Robin's strolls over and proceeds to shove the heel of one of her red pumps into the mouth of the boy who slapped her. (Red Pumps. The very best there is. When you absolutely...) I don't know what this has to do with anything. But I'm guessing it's a painful memory pulled directly from the mind of the killer.

All right, I think I've waited long enough. The electro score by Goblin is one of the best I've ever heard. Seriously, I'd put it up there with Wang Chung's To Live and Die in L.A. score and Chuck Cirino's score for Chopping Mall in terms of synthy greatness. And while we heard the theme from Tenebre during the opening credits. It doesn't really get a chance to display its utter awesomeness until Mirella D'Angelo and Mirella Banti are confronted by the killer in their swanky home, where the former is attacked while putting on a t-shirt–a white t-shirt–and the latter is attacked while wearing a towel–a white towel.

However, before the attack occurs, we given an extended tour of the roof of their house. And it's during this tour that I really started to appreciate the throbbiness of Goblin's score. It can't say enough good things about the music in this film, as it's the type of music I wish every movie had as its soundtrack. And when I say "every movie," I mean, every movie. Even Driving Miss Daisy and Edward Penishands.

You would think that the confrontation between the killer and the two dark-haired Italian women in their home would be the pinnacle of this film's greatness. Think again, pal. Sure, the camera angles, the music, the intensity of the violence featured in the previous scene are nearly impossible to top in terms of being iconic, but a plucky actress named Lara Wendal and a resolute Doberman Pinscher are going to try, nonetheless.

Playing Maria Alboretto, the daughter of the landlord of the building Peter Neal is currently living in, Lara Wendel's decision to taunt the Doberman Pinscher that barks at her during her walk home from a disastrous date with her boyfriend (Michele Soavi) will come back to haunt her.

She doesn't know it yet, but the Doberman Pinscher she is currently poking at with is a stick is the dog shit when it comes to jumping fences. After multiple attempts, it finally makes over the first fence, and just like that, the best dog chase sequence in slasher film history is underway. Now, some audience members might be shocked to learn that dog in question is 100% real. That's right, there's no CGI tomfoolery to be found during this epic chase.

Even though I might have missed a few along the way, I think at least four fences are scaled during this particular chase. Well, actually, if your numbers are correct, that's not entirely true, as Maria doesn't quite make it over the fourth fence. Oh, yeah. She doesn't, does she? Yeah, I forgot about that. Either way, the music cue that occurs when a black gloved hand lifts a razor in anger is fantastic. And the piece of music that accompanies the final leg of Lara Wendel's ordeal is called "Flashing" and it's just as amazing as the film's theme song.

Granted, I've seen and appreciated many forms of cinematic arterial spray over the years. But the type employed during the film's bloody finale was simply ridiculous. And I mean that in a good way. To call it "spray" doesn't seem to do it justice, as it's more like an arterial gusher. At first, I felt sort of bad for all people murdered in this film. Then it dawned on me. No, I don't feel sorry for them, I actually envy them. That's right, envy. Think about it. Who wouldn't want to be killed in such an elegant manner? To be killed in the gruesome mode the people are killed in this movie would be a honour and a privilege. I know, murder is wrong and junk, but if you're going to go, why not go in style?

While I'm currently in the process of re-watching some of Dario Argento's essential films, I can't imagine any of them coming close to topping the icy perfection of Tenebre. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to crank the film's soundtrack while slowly pacing back and forth in a menacing fashion. I do have a pair of black leather gloves, but I don't own an open razor. So, instead, I'm using an old feather duster. Watch out dark-haired Italian women the world over, I'm going to straight up dust your ass.

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