* indicates that the film is also available to rent, purchase, or view on various streaming platforms. Please note that streaming versions may differ from these home video presentations.
“Five Nights at Freddy’s“* (2023, Universal Home Entertainment) Down-on-his-luck security guard Josh Hutcherson is tasked with watching over Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, a long-shuttered Chuck E. Cheese-style eatery cursed with a history of child murders and a quintet of still-lively and homicidal animatronic mascots. Long-gestating feature film adaptation of the popular horror themed game had the unenviable task of fleshing out its rudimentary storyline (player tries to avoid being killed) and delivers a patchwork of plot threads and motivations cribbed from other horror films, including “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” “Sinister,” and other, mostly better films (“Five Nights” devotees may also take issue with the script’s revisions of accepted game canon). The cast gamely goes through the motions, though Matthew Lillard and Mary Stuart Masterson appear to enjoy their turns as cartoonishly malevolent adults, but what’s missing is the game’s steady flow of slow-boiling tension and explosivee shocks, which come too infrequently to make an impression; still, director/co-writer Emma Tammi does manage to insert some impressively creepy production design and visuals, especially in the ruined restaurant, and a surprising amount of gore for a kid-oriented, PG-13 feature. Universal’s Night Shift Edition bundles Blu-ray, DVD, and digital presentations with several short making-of featurettes.
“Salvation! Have You Said Your Prayers Today?“* (1987, Kino Lorber) Slick and utterly corrupt televangelist Stephen McHattie runs afoul of man-eating teen Dominique Davalos (Delphines/Dogs and Diamonds/BlueBonnets) and later, her slack-jawed but conniving brother-in-law (Viggo Mortensen), who hopes to siphon some of the reverend’s illicit cash flow for his own purposes. Enter Mortensen’s wife (Exene Cervenka), who proposes a unique solution to McHattie’s problems, which in turn, sprout its own crop of fresh hell. Long out of circulation satire from Beth B, whose work in the NYC underground/No Wave film scene lends a brash bite to the visuals and humor, which in turn boosts the film past its lack of plotting; the quartet of leads are especially good in fleshing out what are, on paper, stock roles. The soundtrack (which probably kept “Salvation” out of circulation since its VHS release) includes tracks by New Order, Cabaret Voltaire, Arthur Baker and Davalos; Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray includes an interview with Beth B and her music video for Davalos’ “The Dominatrix Sleeps Tonight,” which earned a lot of flack from MTV upon its release in 1984.
“The Day of the Locust“* (1975, Arrow Video) Fear and loathing in Golden Age Hollywood, as personified by painter William Atherton, aspiring starlet Karen Black, and deranged accountant Homer Simpson (Donald Sutherland), all of whom swirl around the bowl of Depression Era Los Angeles, pursuing a vague dream so empty that it eventually swallows them whole. John Schlesinger’s adaptation of Nathanael West’s scabrous 1939 novel earned brickbats upon its release from critics who perceived his take as far afield of the source material and unable to grasp its thematic scope; that’s a matter of preference and perception, and if Schlesinger’s take misses being a perfect translation of West’s novel (a losing prospect from the get-go, given its gallery of gruesome and often loathsome characters), it does present a memorable take on the daily desperation of Los Angeles life, and one that pings capably from tragic (Burgess Meredith’s aging vaudevillian) to grotesque (Jackie Earle Haley’s monstrous child star) and ultimately horrifying (the climactic riot). That may not make for a pleasant experience (one of the frequent issues with both the movie and the novel),, but as both spectacle and critique of spectacle, “Locust” succeeds wildly. With Billy Barty, Bo Hopkins, Geraldine Page (as an ersatz Aimee Semple McPherson), early Cassavetes/Scorsese star Leila Goldoni, and briefly, William Castle; Arrow’s Blu-ray is a 2K restoration from the original camera negative and includes commentary by Lee Gambin, whose highly informative track is buttressed by comments from the cast (including Pepe Serna) and crew (costumer designer and recent “Barbie” star Ann Roth, among others). Video essays and appreciations by critic Glenn Kenney, historian Elissa Rose, and Gambin are included, as are behind-the-scenes photo galleries and radio spots.
“The Terror/Little Shop of Horrors“* (1963/1960, Film Masters) Two public domain horror titles from director Roger Corman, and Exhibits A and B in regard to his ability to turn nothing into something memorable. “The Terror” has Boris Karloff and a young Jack Nicholson sparring over the existence of a spectral mystery woman (Sandra Knight, Nicholson’s then-wife) with ties to Karloff’s past; it’s best remembered for its pedigree (shot in two days on sets left over from Corman’s “The Raven” with a thumbnail script and second units overseen by, at various times, Francis Ford Coppola, Monte Hellman, and Jack Hill) and its atmosphere which at times suggests the expressionistic, form-over-function aesthetic of the Italian Gothic films of Mario Bava and others. “Horrors” has enjoyed a second life for decades as the source material for the stage and film musical, but in its original form, its story – about a florist’s nebbishy employee (Jonathan Haze) who discovers a talking and very hungry plant – is an amusing example of the “sick” humor scene of the period, which is best summed up in scenes involving the hapless Haze committing murder to feed his plant and Nicholson as a masochistic dental patient. Depending on your Monster Kid status, both films are either required viewing or entertaining trifles; Film Masters’ Blu-ray presents the best-looking and sounding versions of these film on home video to date, and pairs them with commentary by C. Courtney Joyner and Steve Habermann (on “Terror”) and Justin Humphreys and Haze (on “Horrors”). Howard Berger offers a lengthy look at the production history on “The Terror” and its place in Corman’s career, while the second part of “Hollywood Intruders: The Filmgroup Story” (which began on Film Masters’ “Beast from Haunted Cave” disc) details the further adventures of Corman’s independent company. Liner notes by Joyner and Corman biographer Mark McGee round out the set.
