POPCORN

POPCORN

(A.k.a. PHANTOM OF THE CINEMA; SKINNER)

Film student Maggie (Jill Schoelen) suffers recurring dreams where a cult leader addresses her as Sarah, while preparing to sacrifice her upon an altar with a particularly deadly-looking dagger. Each time she wakes up, Maggie recounts the details of her dreams into a Dictaphone: she's working on her first screenplay, and these nightmares are providing some serious inspiration.

She's so obsessed with developing her screenplay that Maggie prefers to put her love-life on hold, much to the chagrin of would-be boyfriend Mark (Derek Rydall).

One morning in film class, her lecturer Mr Davis (Tony Roberts) explains that they need to do something credible to make the University take them seriously. He hands the lesson over to fellow student Toby (Tom Villard), who has an idea: hold an all-night horror movie marathon. The plan is to stage this at the nearby Dreamland theatre - due to close down in just three weeks' time - and return to the spectacle days of primo B-movie showman William Castle. To this end, he's organised for a slew of old movies to be screened, and wants the class to help him set up a series of visual gags for their audience to enjoy.

All of which seems impossible to set-up in such a short space of time ... until the troupe arrive at the Dreamland theatre and Toby introduces his trump card - a former auditorium owner, Dr M (Ray Walsten), who brings along a few trunks containing all the props they'll need.

And so, the team set about transforming the theatre into a sensational gimmick-fest: they get busy on moulding foam latex casts of their faces, work on fixing random seats with electric shock devices, wiring up a huge mechanical mosquito to fly above the audience's heads, etc.

In the meantime, a rare film reel is discovered amongst the mysterious Dr M's belongings. Davis and class watch its contents only to discover it to be segments from an obscure arthouse horror flick from 15 years earlier entitled "The Possessor". Maggie is alarmed by the fact that the lead actor is the cult leader from her dreams. Davis later tells her the man in question is Lanyard Gates, who had his own film cult. His films were poorly received at the time, which led to him making "The Possessor" in retaliation. He filmed every scene apart from the final act, which was to be performed live during the movie's premiere screening - at the Dreamland theatre, no less. The final act allegedly involved Gates murdering his own family in front of the audience, and then setting the cinema alight. Gates himself was never identified as having died, such was the crispy state of the corpses later found.

Maggie relays this story to her mother Suzanne (Dee Wallace). She's clearly shaken by Gates's name being brought up, but denies any knowledge of him. However, we know she's been receiving nuisance calls from a deep-voiced pest claiming to be that very person ...

Before long, the night of reckoning arrives and a horde of ravenous movie fans turn up at the luminous Dreamland cinema, all dressed-up in Halloween costumes and masks, ready for an evening of good-natured, frightful fun.

Aside from one punter, that is. Someone has very different plans in mind. This person has tampered with each of the gimmicks on offer to make them deadly, and has gained access to the latex face casts of the classmates - thus making it possible for them to roam the theatre inconspicuously while picking off their quarries one-by-one.

Could it really be that Lanyard Gates survived the frightful fire of 15 years earlier, and has returned for revenge? And if so, what's his link to our unwitting scream queen Maggie?

This 1991 American/Canadian co-production came a little late in the day to be regarded with the same reverence as many a slasher flick that preceded it in the 80s. However, despite it borrowing liberally from A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, it remains an inventive, spirited and quirky addition to the cycle.

Based in America but actually shot for the most part in Jamaica (which accounts for the high quotient of reggae music on the soundtrack), the film is always pleasing to look at. Vivid colour schemes lend events an instant appeal, balancing themselves slyly between comic book allure and outright camp.

First-time director Mark Herrier takes Alan Ormsby's wisecracking script and demonstrates a remarkably self-assured hand. He's good with his actors, eliciting strong and amiable performances from all concerned (even though, per the commentary track, he had to reshoot some scenes when he joined the shoot two weeks into proceedings, because they were initially so flat). His sense of pacing is fluid, and the tone he achieves between the comedic and the macabre is just right.

In this respect, and with the central conceit of a vengeful villain resorting to theatrics as part of their inventive kills, POPCORN calls to mind THEATRE OF BLOOD. It also makes no bones about paying homage to the great halcyon says of gimmicky exploitation cinema of the 50s, with its enjoyable film-within-a-film clips from choice titles such as "Mosquito", "Attack of the Amazing Electrified Man" and "The Stench" (presented in Odorscope).

A lurid final act builds proceedings to an agreeably manic climax, even though the gore levels are low, Despite that, there are some creative kills (all based around the gimmicks being employed in the theatre) and the FX work is impressive.

Watching POPCORN now, it's interesting to consider it as a potential influence on the likes of SAW (the elaborately prepared torture deaths of a couple of victims) and SCREAM (class conversations about the merits of key genre titles; a knowing post-ironic world in which our self-aware protagonists know the rules of this game all too well).

88 Films grace POPCORN with its UK HD debut, thanks to this lovely blu-ray release. This represents number 39 in their Slasher Classics Collection series.

The film is presented uncut on this region-free disc (90 minutes and 46 seconds), in a 1080p HD transfer which retains the original 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Proffered here as an MPEG4-AVC file, the presentation is a spiffing one - a 2K scan of a 35mm inter-positive vault element. Fine natural grain is reassuring; colours pop off the screen; blacks are solid and noise-free; depth and texture are spot on throughout. Images are a tad soft and dreamy at times, but this is true to how the film has always looked.

English audio is provided in 2.0 stereo and 7.1 surround mixes. The latter, produced by Synapse Films, is an impressive but rather manufactured affair; I preferred the less active but more natural former option. We also have the benefit of optional English subtitles for the Hard-of-Hearing, which are well-written and easily readable at all times.

The disc opens to a static main menu page. There's no scene selection menu, but the film does contain 9 chapter stops during playback.

Extras begin with a most enjoyable audio commentary track from Herrier, Schoelen, Malcolm Danare and FX artist Mat Falls. Everyone speaks fondly about the shoot, but they're also candid about what does and doesn't work too. Herrier is first to admit the film wasn't gory enough to capture the horror crowd's hearts. Despite a few pregnant pauses as the chat progresses, this remains an engaging listen.

An excellent 57-minute Making Of documentary entitled "Midnight Madness" follows, which incorporates all of the main players (on screen and off) while slickly editing the interview snippets with clips from the main feature. The general consensus appears to be that the shoot was a very intense, professional one - but also that all concerned shared the feeling that they were involved in something good. There are some great anecdotes about the shoot, about the premiere, about the respect everyone had for Bob Clark (involved, but originally pencilled in to direct) etc. Presented in HD.

"Electric Memories" is a 6-minute interview with Bruce Glover, who played the electrocuted convict Vernon in one of the films-within-a-film. He reveals that this segment was shot in Jamaica by Alan Ormsby, and he based his performance on the sympathetic style of Lon Chaney Junior.

The film's original trailer is an 87-second burst of nostalgic delight.

We also get 5 minutes of enjoyable window-boxed TV trailers and TV spots.

A generous 7-minute stills gallery is handsomely mounted and well-edited, set to the atmospheric strains of the film's score.

This release also comes with 88 Films' usual double-sided reversible cover artwork and, in a limited first run of just 500 copies, a collectors' O-card slipcase.

POPCORN has stood the test of time well and looks great on 88 Films' extras-stacked blu-ray.

Review by Stuart Willis


 
Released by 88 Films
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