directed by larry cohen
hemdale film corporation/larjan
More of a suspenseful meta dramedy than a horror film as such, this flick made me wonder how insufferable Eric Bogosian is in real life, as he was really, really good at portraying a total asshole here in his first cinematic lead role, as he also would prove to be a few years hence in Oliver Stone’s Talk Radio – adapted from the stage play Bogosian himself wrote. It also made me wonder what I would feel if I set foot in New York City again, since it’s been so long and so many things have changed so much since last I felt at home there. This tale of a murder disguised (hopefully) as a movie thinks it’s making all sorts of statements about the film industry and aspirant lives shooting for stardom and, you know, Art, and probably a bunch of other stuff, too, but I’m pretty sure the filmmaker just wanted to be clever about his Art. He sort of succeeds in making everything exponentially self-referential, but ultimately, nothing here really walks up and introduces itself. The exception may be the domicile of artist Lowell Nesbitt, where a lot of the action is filmed. Damn but the Art Scene in New York was a profitable one.
«no entiendes»
why did i watch this movie?
A reference to Cohen’s concurrent release Perfect Strangers opined this was a better option. And I’ve been meaning to watch his A Return to Salem’s Lot.
should you watch this movie?
Cohen has a bizarre and somewhat notorious filmography that may interest you.
highlight and low point
The actress who plays the dual lead female role, credited here as Zoe Tamerlis, dominates this category once you realize she was something of an advocate for heroin. (A bold stance, to be sure.)
She died two months after her 37th birthday.
Rating from outer space: B−
but do they have the Miss Piggy
I was more or less suffering my way through this at times excruciatingly hackneyed low-budget independent feature originally titled “Eat Your Heart Out” when an unexpected thing occurred – one of the funniest scenes I’ve enjoyed in a movie in quite a long time. This got me thinking about a number of concepts. One was why I stuck with this video production despite its obviously amateurish sheen, when with many others I never bothered to outlast the opening moments; another was why I wasn’t interested in panning the outcome. The simplest and most honest answer is to admit I’m not sure, but maybe it comes down to the fact that though this film is often hampered by scenes and dialogue that seem to be included mainly because such scenes and dialogue are what you get in a “movie” – often the case with this sort of picture – it isn’t held back by attempts at lowbrow appeal. Neither is it too self-conscious of being a friends-and-family kind of affair. Plus, the storyline is fairly creative. I was surprised, however, to find that the director has helmed a long list of projects.
I’m sure it’s been noted before, but the attention to detail in this movie astounded me, such as the scene wherein Arbogast is looking for clues to Marion’s disappearance in the Bates Motel’s office parlor – where Norman is displaying his stuffed birds – and the bookshelf behind him holds a full set of books entitled The Art of Taxidermy. So it’s a bit surprising, I guess, that certain other important factors seem so transparent, or even dishonest. Of course, that’s nitpicking, and anyone who doesn’t think this is a high-quality cinematic achievement … probably doesn’t care for noir films or suspense, or pulp fiction. Hitchcock himself must have thought he had a goldmine here, however, as he went ahead and made it despite Paramount’s objections and refusal to budget it appropriately. That worked out all right.
This picture straight from the Brazilian scrapheap is almost completely incoherent. With less than 15 minutes left, the chief of police exclaims – and not for the first time – “but none of this makes any sense!” He is correct. “Satanic Attraction” rivals 
Can I call this a disappointment if I watched it thinking it would be a scuzzy, nothing exploitation slasher with paper-thin intent and slapdash execution, but instead discovered a well-crafted picture of surprising depth and real pathos made with a skillful hand? Don’t answer that, it’s a rhetorical question. But despite a number of moments that could have turned this flick into a groaner, the poignant portrayal of the title character proves redemptive. Obviously inspired by the Son of Sam killings, with a handful of details provided by other notorious murder sprees, this film’s account of title psychopath Frank’s travails leavens its less credible portions with an intermittent awareness of his humanity. (How self-aware Frank is, however, remains an open question.) Lead actor and co-writer Joe Spinell’s creation is disturbingly credible, and in context, the more fantastic notions are not hindered by their implausibility.
I’ll admit it, I enjoy it a little too much – trotting out the jejune sally that “the REAL horror here is blah blah blah” and so forth – but dig it, man, that foolishness is perfectly suitable for this bonkers English presentation. Oh, don’t get me wrong, this film is for the most part shoddy and boring, but holy cats does it contain some absolutely bizarre goings-on. For one thing, it’s only around 84 minutes long, but it manages to contain a four-minute-plus lesbian scene that is frankly a lot more explicit than I would’ve supposed. For another thing, at a certain point – for no discernible reason – everything goes slo-mo as the soundtrack suddenly becomes extremely psychedelic and discordant. And no kidding, even though the story concerns a space alien who’s on Earth scouting for new “protein sources” (“spoiler”!), heavens to Murgatroyd but that isn’t the REAL horror here. I watched the climactic action of this picture jaws literally agape.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 