Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977-ish)

Tagline: Lost horror film of the seventies.

Curiosity: Patton Oswalt had a great bit about this previously unreleased ’70s cult horror film on Werewolves and Lollipops.

Plot: So, there’s this Death Bed. It eats. It’ll eat anything – apples, fried chicken, PEOPLE. This is because the bed is possessed by an evil force thanks to demon blood. And people keep sleeping in this bed and getting eaten. Just constant death bedding for about a century. We know this thanks to narration provided by a British guy whose soul became trapped in a painting after he was eaten by the Death Bed.

Thoughts: Death Bed isn’t as bad as its reputation would suggest. That doesn’t necessarily make it good, but it displays fleeting moments on genius that defy its low budget, amateur roots. Here’s where the film gets things right: Director/writer George Barry actually thought about how a Death Bed would eat people. The result is like a venus flytrap; the Death Bed captures people and then dissolves them with acidic ooze.

Here’s where he gets it wrong: Just about everything else is terrible and hammy. The dissolvent makes sense; having the Death Bed make chewing sounds is stupid. Sure, it’s campy, but it also doesn’t make any sense, darn it. Also nonsensical: No one reacts when bad things happen to other people. Oh sure, people scream when they get eaten by the Death Bed. But when a character’s hands get dissolved when he tries stabbing the mattress monster, his sister doesn’t react at all. His hands are nothing but bones and she doesn’t say shit. What a jerk.

There is one lengthy scene where Barry perfectly captures the thrills and chills of horror movies, though. One female character almost escapes the Death Bed, and there’s a lengthy sequence where she attempts dragging her bloody, broken body out of the room. I’m sure Barry made the scene so long so he could eat up the running time (Even with all the padding and lengthy narration, Death Bed is still only 80 minutes long), but there’s something simultaneously titillating and uncomfortable about watching this character crawl, futilely, across the floor and up a set of stairs before ultimately being claimed by the Death Bed. Horror offers a degree voyeurism, and this scene puts the viewer right there.

But then, Death Bed also has funny/bad special effects and relies on narration to overexplain important plot points only to jam in an elaborate, unearned ending. Movies shouldn’t have this tough of a time showing instead of telling, but Barry seems to actively loathe writing dialogue when a British narrator will do.

Reflection: Glad I saw it. I’m sorry I paid for it.

Harry and the Hendersons (1987)

Tagline: According to science, Bigfoot doesn’t exist.

Curiosity: John Lithgow and Sasquatch battle crime!

Plot: Avid hunter George Henderson (Lithgow) and his family “accidentally” hit a strange creature on their way home from a camping trip. Upon discovering that it’s none other than the legendary Bigfoot (Kevin Peter Hall), George decides to bring the corpse home with him FOR SCIENCE.

Later that day, however, the corpse, now dubbed Harry, returns for revenge upon Seattle. A French… maybe French-Canadian hunter (David Suchet) stalks Bigfoot, much to George’s chagrin. Having learned that hunting is bad, George begins shouting a pro-vegetarian message to anyone who will listen.

Thoughts: Released in 1987, Harry and the Hendersons might be one of the most influential films on my childhood. At 25, I realize that this might be the film that introduced me to the fine art of saying everything “sucks.” It also possibly buried an animal rights/vegetarian agenda in my subconscious, which didn’t manifest itself until high school.

I also think the movie just warped the way I perceive cinema. On its surface, Harry and the Hendersons is a delightful, family friendly romp. But there are certain scenes that lend it a more adult-oriented air. There’s a surprising amount of profanity, for one. There’s also a scene between Harry and George’s daughter Sarah (Margaret Langrick) that haunts me. Harry brings Sarah flowers [Side note: When trying to determine Harry’s gender, Sarah is the only one to point out Harry’s massive dong]. When she smiles at his gift, Harry gently puts his hand on the side of her face… and knocks flying to the ground with a loud thud. It’s so violent and random. And that thud really pops. In my head, I pretend Harry straight up pulled an Of Mice and Men on Sarah, but that’s maybe too dark. Anyway, animal rights. That’s cool.

I now find myself well-stocked on Harry and the Hendersons stories. Did you know Harry (Hall) also played the Predator? And that he died of complications from HIV? Rick Baker (An American Werewolf in London, Star Wars: A New Hope, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video, and, um, Norbit) designed Harry. He won a fucking Oscar for that shit. The film was adapted for TV. The show ran for three seasons. Harry murdered several characters throughout the show’s 72-episode run. I find clips of the show oddly compelling:





Reflection: I forgot to talk about George’s adorably nerdy son Ernie (Joshua Rudoy)! He’s so cute!

House (1977)

Tagline: HOUSE!

Curiosity: It’s acknowledged as being an insane, weird movie. So, there’s that. And it’s endorsed by noted SNC sex symbol Ti West.

Plot: Unhappy with her father’s decision to remarry, Gorgeous (Kimiko Ikegami) goes with six of her friends to visit her aunt in the country. But then her house starts doing some crazy-ass shit, man.

Thoughts: Oh. Oh… wow. House lives up to its reputation for being a strange flick. It’s not necessarily gory or disturbing. But it is extremely surreal, made with a low tech sensibility that actually makes it stand out. Star Wars needs constant upkeep; House will always look like a feverish dream. In his introduction to the film, West notes that director/co-writer Nobuhiko Obayashi utilizes every possible camera and special effect available. And it’s completely true.

While Obayashi was always an experimental artist at heart, for a while he made his living doing commercials. Weirdly enough, that helped create House’s sensibility, as the film conveys plenty through mood and setting. When Gorgeous’ step-mom-to-be shows up onscreen, her every move is greeted with a soft focus lens, generous lighting, and copious amounts of air to billow her skirt and scarf. She looks like an angelic movie star; no wonder Gorgeous hates her.

The film is unabashedly hyperactive and bipolar. Obayashi’s background allows him to make everything bright and loud. He jumps from comedy to drama to horror in seconds. The result is not necessarily a true horror movie, but it’s an appealing experimental effort, one that forces the audience to draw its own conclusions. It can be frightening if you want it to be, but I honestly took it as a black comedy, a darker Looney Tunes short. You can find it stupid if you want (One character is killed by a piano, another by pillows), but it’s honestly a hilariously creepy viewing experience.

Reflection: I want to see where Obayashi went from here.

Tango & Cash (1989)

Tagline: Two of L.A.'s top rival cops are going to have to work together... Even if it kills them.

Curiosity: Kurt Russell’s movies in the ’80s were feckin’ awesome.

Plot: Rivals Tango (Sylvester Stallone) and Cash (Russell) are the two top cops in L.A.s, costing drug lords millions of dollars each year. Criminal mastermind Perret (Jack Palance) has big plans for them though: Frame them for murder and then ship ’em off to prison. But Perret wasn’t counting on Tango and Cash becoming partners, Odd Couple-style, and the duo soon breaks out and gets to bustin’ skulls.

Also Cash macks on Tango’s sister (Teri Hatcher), who is both a stripper and a drummer. The ’80s were weird.

Thoughts: Tango & Cash feels like it could have been an awesome ’80s cop show, if only because the script forces in so many angles while still being merely a good Lethal Weapon rip-off. As is, it doesn’t seem totally sure what it wants to be: A pre-CSI tech drama, a screwball comedy, a sexy sex party, or a rootin’, tootin’ action flick. I know the beauty of the buddy cop genre is that it can mash up a bunch of different styles, but T&C doesn’t develop any one particular idea, leaving me with plenty of questions, such as…

-Why does Teri Hatcher work a stripper who plays drums?

-How do Kurt Russell’s gun-boots work? If I had boots that shot bullets when I kicked, I would use them ALL OF THE TIME. Even in my sleep.

-What other kind of freaky deaky masochistic shit is Stallone into?

-What’s Jack Palance’s deal? With the mice? What’s up with that?

-Why do the characters speak almost exclusively in one-liners?

-How come no one notices that when Kurt Russell disguises himself in a dress, he still looks exactly like Kurt Russell in a dress? What is this, Looney Tunes?

T&C asks more questions than it answers. Still, I got my fill of Kurt Russell. Stallone gets stuck playing straight man most of the time, but Russell is, well, classic Russell: Cash is kind of insane and loud and passionate and he has fucking GUN-BOOTS.

Reflection: Holy shit, that's Robert Z'Dar from Soultaker!!