
Color, 1991, 90 mins. 46 secs.
Directed by Mike Herrier
Starring Jill Schoelen, Tom Villard, Dee Wallace, Derek Rydall, Malcolm Danare, Kelly Jo Minter, Ray Walston, Tony Roberts
Synapse Films (Blu-ray) (US RA HD), Elite Entertainment (DVD) (US R1 NTSC), '84 Entertainment (DVD) (Germany R2 PAL), CMV Laservision (Germany RB/R2 HD/PAL) / WS (1.78:1) (16:9)
well after the
demise of the original slasher craze, this Jamaica-shot ode to gimmicky William Castle films with a modern stalk-and-slash twist was designed from the outset to be a cult favorite among horror fans. Unfortunately fate had other plans, ranging from the replacement after weeks of shooting of both director Alan Ormsby and star Amy O'Neill to the aborted wide theatrical release that instead found the film shuffled off to a handful of second-run theaters instead. Nevertheless, the film did find its fan following on home video, with its VHS and laserdisc releases proving hot items in the '90s. On top of that it features the best of the later period scream queens, Jill Schoelen, whose charisma and sweet demeanor have elevated all of her genre outings like The Stepfather and The Phantom of the Opera.
paraphernalia expert Dr. Mnesyne (Walston), as Jill's personal life is complicated by a potential romance with Mark (Rydall) and the strange phone calls plaguing her mother (Wallace).
Just before the start of the fest, the students uncover a mysterious suppressed horror film, Possessor, whose horrific real-life history involving a maniacal filmmaker named Lanyard Gates seems tied very closely to Maggie's dreams. Once the lights go down and the movies begin unspooling, someone begins killing off attendees with movie-inspired methods indicating Maggie's nightmares may be more based in reality than she realized.
second-string horror actresses, Kelly Jo Minter (The Lost Boys, The People Under the Stairs). The finished film still has its share of odd speed bumps
(most notably a strange, tacky gag at a urinal that feels like it wandered in from a Troma film), but on the whole it has aged quite well and still works as an affectionate ode to horror's heyday.
pretty basic early '90s sound design that mostly comes to life during the energetic final 20 minutes or so. Optional English SDH subtitles are also included, and a new audio
commentary can be heard with director Mark Herrier, Schoelen, Malcolm Danare, and special makeup effects artist Mat Falls, moderated by Kristy Jett. They're all in very good spirits and have a lot of affection for the film, noting the ambitious nature of the practical effects (including the Phibes-style mask angle that turns up in the second half), the quandary of shooting new close-ups of Schoelen to place in scenes that had been shot with her predecessor, and the portions shot by Ormsby that had been done by Herrier's arrival with the fake movie clips faring much better than the main narrative that had to be largely redone. "Midnight Madness: The Making of Popcorn” (57m11s) take an equally in-depth look at the film and its bumpy road to completion with Herrier, Schoelen, Rydall, Wallace, Malcolm Danare, Ivette Soler, and Elliott Hurst, Falls, composer Paul Zaza, and distributor executive Jonathan Wolf chatting about the film's "family project" nature with plenty of roles for young filmmakers, the connection to producer Bob Clark (who had ditched horror films by this point), and fears that the film might never actually finish shooting. Actor Bruce Glover turns up solo for "Electric Memories" (6m38s) about his own limited role in a film within a film (the B&W electrified man one), with other extras including a still gallery, the trailer, and a 5m31s "television campaign" reel including a TV trailer and TV spots.