Meatballs, No. 2 - Meatballs Part II (1984)

Leaving the world of intelligent, well-crafted comedy behind us forever, we come to Meatballs Part II. The world never really needed a Meatballs sequel, let alone a franchise, and indeed every single one of the original filmmakers seemed to agree, parlaying their modest Meatballs momentum to create classic golf comedies and incredible ghost-busting blockbuster bonanzas. But even when a sequel is not forthcoming, the great rip off machine can swoop in to fill that void with so many cheapo knockoffs, diluting the charm of the original rather quickly.

Seeing as it was the early 80s, the same years that saw countless “murderer at the camp” movies to diminishing returns, it makes perfect sense that a similar vein of “camp without the murderer element” movies would also chug along, to hardly anyone’s interest. Damned if I know what all of these movies were, I don’t care! And in the five years between Meatballs and Meatballs Part II, quality and even comprehensibility went bye-bye pretty quickly.

Now, Meatballs Part II was not initially intended to be a part of the hallowed Meatballs family; rather, it was simply another innocuous, vacant knockoff, soon to be rightly forgotten. But an interesting thing happened in 1984. No, not the rise of a totalitarian government hell bent on reducing people’s liberties (unless you really disliked Reagan). No, I mean the rights to Meatballs switched. Perhaps Meatballs’ independent Canadian production history made it easier pickings, but the fact is that now a particular anonymously crappy summer camp sex comedy could trade in on the Meatballs name, for whatever it was worth. And there’s hardly anything in Meatballs Part II – apart from that non sequitur title and the broad summer camp plot elements that define subgenre more than franchise – that connects it back to the original Meatballs.

Trading in the talented Ivan Reitman, Meatballs Part II was helmed by Ken Wiederhorn, director of…practically nothing else…mostly some TV episodes. Just as unpromisingly, the screenwriters were Martin Kitrosser and Carol Watson, who – Wait, what was that deep, distant rumbling? Oh…no…These two wankers were the worst writers in the entire Friday the 13th franchise, not a good sign…Why do I know that offhand?! I didn’t even have to check the Internet for that one.

The opening credits play over a traveling school bus, credits written in a bright, neon 80s font I mostly associate with era magazines such as Nintendo Power. The second name credit is one Hamilton Camp, and excuse me for momentarily thinking this was an on-screen location title. Then we move into the bus, and – Holy crap! Pee Wee’s driving that bus! If only the bus were one of his anthropomorphic buddies, able to comment on the already-obvious suckiness.

For this bus is filled with our central CIT characters for this entry, a stark contrast to the naturalist members of the first movie. For this is turning out to be precisely the type of film I praised the original Meatballs for not being, full of Hollywood teenagers, their blatantly scripted problems, and flat, TV-quality lighting depicting all this. These characters, whose names won’t be uttered until it’s long past my convenience, include a slut (Tammy Taylor), an innocent girl (Kim Richards), a token tough guy from “Joisey” (Ralph Seymour), a different kind of slut (Misty Rowe, bra obviously padded), and a blandly horny guy (Archie Hahn). There is also Flash (John Mengatti), the leather-clad greaser type of guy who is, I’m convinced, purely an invention of the movies. The police pull Pee Wee’s bus over to usher Flash from their custody to the camp’s – this “passing the bill” arrangement isn’t something that’s worth a single extra moment’s thought contemplating. So basically, all these characters are pretty much the same types you’d find in a terrible slasher movie (recall the screenwriters), only here there isn’t the comfort in knowing most of them are going to die horribly for your amusement at some stage. For viewers, this is actually the more nihilistic experience!

Soon the bus arrives at Camp Sasquatch, nestled in the cheap and budget-conscious mountains surrounding Los Angeles – I’ve spend years of my life working in these very mountains, yet they still look awful in movies. What a change from the lush Canadian scenery in the real Meatballs. Here we become aware of this movie’s other character types, namely the grotesque, lazy cartoons. This starts with an old man who’s supposed to be the head counselor, camp owner, and whatever other position of camp authority they could think off. This is Giddy (Richard Mulligan, a poor man’s Lloyd Bridges, himself a poor man’s Leslie Nielsen), introduced to one Tommy McBee (actor unimportant), a young kid in an unrealistically souped-up wheelchair. Their “clever” dialogue endlessly reasserts that something is “Not unfunny,” a line that isn’t not inaccurate.

For some reason, all the movie’s central young boys (and they are all young boys, causing me to worry about Ken Wiederhorn) count among the grotesques. We have two identical twins, an excuse for some profoundly unfunny sub-Abbott and Costello routines. There’s the aforementioned wheelchair-bound Tommy. And then there’s Tim, whose arbitrary, off-putting character trait is that he constantly lugs around either a stuffed skunk or armadillo…Okay then. There’s also a kid who sells candy bars, and then loses any distinguishing features whatsoever promptly thereafter.

With all these grotesques, and awkward dialogue that struggles with humor like an English-language-learner, it becomes clear that this film’s preoccupation is “komedy.” It’s anxious, eager-to-please, and really, really, really overeager. It’s like these jerks saw Airplane! and chose to mimic its tone, but somehow traded in its world-class poker face for, well, the most obvious “tell” outside of Le Chiffre in Casino Royale.

There’s also a rival camp across the lake from Camp Sasquatch, not so much because Meatballs did it, but because Meatballs’ weak-sauce competitors did it. This is Camp Patton, a boot camp for preteens, and an opportunity for the broadest, least satirical series of military yuks I’ve ever come across. The shrimpy, Napoleonic camp leader Col. Bat Jack Hershey (the enigmatic Hamilton Camp, who certainly took to every possible meaning of his last name) provides a master class in actually out-hamming Richard Mulligan, with acting so outré it somehow rounds the horn back to being boring. His second-in-command is Lt. Felix Foxglove (John freaking Larroquette, sans dignity), and guess what offensive, broad stereotype they’ve granted him – homosexuality. The gag here is supposed to be the outrageous contrast between the military and the gays and…just make your own joke, okay.

Right, so there are unmotivated rivalries between the two camps, because this kind of movie demands it – the conflict here is noticeably more pronounced and mean-spirited than North Star and Camp Mohawk. To that end, Giddy recruits Flash, that juvenile troublemaker Rebel Without a Cause wannabe, to train for the annual climactic boxing tournament between the two camps. I die a little on the inside.

Then something happens that you’d honestly never be able to guess without prior knowledge of this movie. A – oh good God! – a…a…Okay, I can do this…A UFO hovers over the lake.

…

…

[I shriek in anger.]

Not content with somehow transforming the broad outline of Meatballs into the kind of komedy you’d find in between the sex scenes of a porno, they’ve decided to go ahead and throw in an extraterrestrial element, hurling whatever realism remained directly out the window. And it turns out, since this movie is inexplicably concerned with badly mimicking Airplane!, this is their chance to spoof E.T. – if by “spoof” you mean “retell without jokes, heart or whimsy on a restrictively tiny budget.” It seems the legally-distinct-from-E.T. alien child has been sent to a human camp by his (Jewish) alien parents, all for no good goddamn reason whatsoever. So they abandon this creature in the woods, pausing only briefly to relate a truly uninspired space pun that I’m not transcribing.

I grow bored…The quintet of broad yet uninteresting young boys soon enough discovers this alien hiding in an outhouse, affording us lengthy views of the unremarkable beast. Let’s see…His head is totally lacking in detail, no part of his face ever moves, and he simply waddles around ineptly in a way that makes Howard the Duck seem butch. He wouldn’t pass muster in a lesser creature feature from the 50s. And this alien, lovingly nicknamed “Meathead,” is absolutely the best thing about this movie. Oh look, here he is now!

Meanwhile, we leave this non-starter of an alien storyline to join the non-starter of a boxing storyline. Flash heads to the camp’s remarkably large boxing building to train with Giddy and with Boomer (Joe Nipote), an eleventh-rate sketch “komedy” troupe’s idea of a Rocky parody. It’s like a mentally challenged guy somehow failing to perform as a mentally challenged guy. It blows my mind. Oh, and this movie puts in some sort of token effort on a romantic subplot no one is concerned with, so Flash’s sparring is occasionally interrupted for long, loving glances at the innocent girl, whose name is…Shirley? Yeah, I think it’s Shirley.

She too experiences a growing attraction towards Flash (young people are dumb), so she proceeds to ask Nancy the slut about S-E-X. She endlessly asks Nancy about “dorks,” which is this movie’s oddball euphemism for the penis. Actually, they quickly segue over to an even more bizarre euphemism, “pinkies.” I’d accept this briefly, but the movie insists on its overuse rather regularly, possibly due to a combination of zero wit and a PG rating. The various other slutty female nonentities further teach Shirley about the penis, and – wait, did they say Sheryl? Okay, whatever, her name’s actually Sheryl. Damn this movie.

A few more boring gag scenes later, and we return to Camp Patton so the rivalry subplot can develop. Col. Hershey meets with Chief Rawhide – you guessed it, they’re now resorting to lazy joke versions of the Natives, a portrayal MAD Magazine wouldn’t resort to in its worst years (the 2000s). This means Hershey now has the deed to the lake (not the lands themselves, but the lake), which will somehow allow him to put an end to the hated Camp Sasquatch once and for all!

The following day, Hershey and the increasingly-outed Lt. Foxglove head over to Sasquatch to meet with Giddy. Having run out of broad cultural stereotypes that make sense in a komic kamp kontext, the movie now randomly resorts to showing off several Hara Krishnas (you know, because they were in Airplane!). Hershey learns from Giddy…something vague about the Krishnas, which prompts Hershey to enter into a weird little agreement. Basically, plot contortions in this subgenre have to make the camp’s very existence dependent upon the outcome of the climactic sports match, so indeed both Camp Patton and Camp Sasquatch risk the deeds to their respective properties on the upcoming Champ of the Lake boxing match. What little in-movie justification is given is scant and contrived, so let’s just accept this necessary turn of events and move on.

That night (or at any rate, a night, since the passage of time here is never totally clear), there is a big dance over at Camp Sasquatch – and even though it’s now 1984, disco features prominently. Ah yes, the big dance, another required element in these movies. Flash dances with the innocent girl Cheryl (I gave up and checked the Internet – that’s her character’s name), arranging through a komic konversation some sort of ribald tryst later that night. Likewise Jamie and Fanny, the perpetually sex-crazed couple, also plan a tryst. Shenanigans ensue, each male accidentally heads into the wrong cabin, and coitus sees premature interruptus.

Let’ see, which subplot has been most neglected by this point?...Ah, Meathead the alien! I almost forgot, there’s a freaking alien wandering around camp, to the complete and utter nonchalance of nearly everyone. Meathead has disguised himself in a raincoat, what he perceived to be the most common of all human outfits (he must have spent some time on 42nd Street), a non-disguise on a par with Clark Kent’s glasses. Strolling aimlessly, Meathead phases through a wall into Flash’s cabin, to find this ex-con camp counselor enjoying delicious, PG-rated marijuana. Meathead tries a little, floats briefly (these are the jokes here, people!), and I grow bored, bored, bored, bored, bored!

They’re pretty much completely running out of material, because next up we get to see the camp children sitting around watching director Wiederhorn’s only other movie, the comparatively adequate Shock Waves. Flash arranges a skinny dipping session with Shir- wait, Cheryl, made possible because this girl is so innocent she believes “skinny dipping” means “astronomy.” It’s a joke, boy, you’re supposed to laugh, now, y’hear? [Sigh.] So these two head out to the lake, while the various slutty girls secretly follow to catch a glimpse of Flash’s “pinky.” At the same time, the militaristic kids from Patton have crossed the lake for a mostly pointless incursion into Camp Sasquatch. Also, Jamie and Fanny are having sex in the forest, a normal state of affairs (they’d have died three minutes into a horror movie). Then a bear comes along, and all these different plot strands descend into “komic” anarchy, everyone simply racing around and screaming like a bad Benny Hill routine – that is to say, any Benny Hill routine. The end result, the scant little event that ties this unfunny sequence in to the movie’s semblance of a plot, is that the Patton kids kidnap Flash and drag him back to their camp.

And with a full half hour of running time left, it’s time for the Champ of the Lake, meaning we’re due in for a deathless, overly-long boxing match. The entire cast is assembled, many of them vainly and pointlessly crossing their eyes in a wildly misguided attempt to eke a little laughter out of the audience…I dunno, maybe this movie would be funny to stoners. Then again, shoes are funny to stoners. It’s like convincing a teenager to have an erection…Okay, I’ve gotten sidetracked here. I think I don’t want to talk about this movie.

Flash awakes alone over at Camp Patton, totally not locked up or anything, so he can simply wander over to Camp Sasquatch and fight anyway. Nice job with your villainous plan there, Hershey. But Flash is basically naked, in a PG sorta way (skinny dipping and all), so he has to find something to wear. Apparently the only clothes at Camp Patton are the dresses Lt. Foxglove keeps in his closet, never to come out. What a lame, lame, lame way to get your ostensible hero in a dress for the final fight – and then do nothing with that gag once it’s been set up. Again, way to suck, movie.

Hershey releases his feral, raw meat-eating boxer from his cage, revealing Mad Dog (Donald Gibb, stalwart member of the Revenge of the Nerds saga). Then Flash makes his glorious, dress-clad entrance, and the fight is on! Two rounds of the most lackluster fight choreography ever proceed, and the movie is inept enough it can’t even convince us of Mad Dog’s mastery over Flash, a necessary development for any climactic movie fight. They even attempt to retell a comic routine Charlie Chaplin once mastered, and naturally the execution here is botched. Man, there’s nothing quite like trying to write about a bad comedy, is there?

Finally, Meathead gets it into his expressionless alien head to aid Flash, so he goes ahead and uses his red-eyed stoner alien powers to levitate Flash over the ring (on visible wires). Flash floats abou,t landing blow after blow on the stymied Mad Dog, all the while the whole camp reacts with zero emotion to this bizarre, idiotic turn of events. We’ve come a long way from the original Meatballs, I tell you what, so I just keep repeating Bill Murray’s mantra to myself: “It just doesn’t matter!”

Man, this boxing match is taking forever. Hershey alone somehow realizes there is a red-eyed, telepathic alien seated in the crowded bleachers, so he proceeds to do what any of us would and prime a grenade underneath dozens of children. I – Whuh?! Wheelchair-bound Tommy attempts to stop Hershey by walking out of his wheelchair, even though he could have easily wheeled over to the man. But that doesn’t matter (thank you, Bill), so instead Meathead decides to levitate the grenade around, which then chases Hershey out of the building. It explodes him off screen, and because this is the type of movie it is, we know Hershey shall turn up again at the end, simply charred a little bit like Daffy Duck.

Flash tumbles to the ring, Meathead’s telepathic stoner link now broken, so he just proceeds to easily whup Mad Dog right there on his own, you know, just because. It just doesn’t matter! Camp Sasquatch is saved, everyone cheers, and Mad Dog responds to his loss by tearing off Flash’s clothes. Hence his “pinky” dangles out for all the preteen children in attendance to gawp at in horror.

The movie has climaxed, all its plot strands meshing together like an intricate Chinese puzzle box in one glorious penis exhibition. All that’s left is the standard wrapping up, which takes forever. End. Giddy resolves the land deeds with Hershey. End! Meathead’s parents pick him up and act quite the Jews. Eeeend! The buses full of kids leave for wherever, while Flash smooches Cheryl. The camera promptly pans back, so this is the end, right? Thank you, sweet J- Wait, we’re in space now?! Aah! Meathead’s UFO flies around and…Okay, whatever, it’s over, let us never speak of this movie again.

This terrible PG-rated movie, so insulting even to anyone old enough for PG fare, originally aimed for an R, to be a part of the cheesecake teenaged sex comedy genre Meatballs itself was so distinctly not a part of. According to legend (that is, the IMDb trivia page), over 80 minutes of naked sex footage was shot for the international market, removed only when the actors who performed these softcore scenes took offense to their inclusion. Wait, why’d you take part in a whole film’s worth of intercourse if you didn’t want anyone to watch it? So be it, someone actually took the effort to list in great detail every single sex act we missed. You don’t have to read through this whole thing, oh Lord no, but seriously go and check it out!

Meatballs Part II “enjoys” a miserly 3.0 rating on the IMDb, which still somehow makes this the second highest entry in the Meatballs franchise. Boy, these next two are gonna be some real turds!


Related posts:
• No. 1 Meatballs (1979)
• No. 3 Meatballs III (1986)
• No. 4 Meatballs 4 (1992)

speed paint

Pourquoi Pas?

Why not pull out your favorite lingerie today and where it just for you? Walk around all day with an air of confidence and power which only you will know its source.

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Stay beautiful darlings!

Alisa - Le Marais - Paris

Alisa
"I am a student in Fashion Management.
For me Fashion is not very important.
Today, my look is minimalist Rock.
I love plenty of things. I hate snobism.



I wear a Top by COS
Shoes by ANN DE MEULEMEESTER
Pants by JEROME R
Bag by YSL
Sunnies by GIVENCHY
Perfume by MARGIELA

Marcela - Place Vendôme - Paris

I work as Stage Designer in Paris Opera
"For me Fashion reflects the mood of the day
My look is a working day look
If I had 1000€ I would buy a RICK OWENS Jacket
and MC QUEEN Shoes ...
I love smile. I don't like not kind people...
My message to the world:
Try to be the one you would like to meet".

Outfit by KRISTOFER KONGSHAUG
Shoes by URBAN OUTFITTERS
Sunnies by RAY BAN
Perfume= "Angel" by T.MUGLER

Clémence - Place Vendôme - Paris

Clémence
"I am just graduated of a Fashion School.
For me Fashion is a way of Life. My look
is Rock-Chic. I love to be always on the
movement. I hate to be bored. My message
to the world: Stay cool. Be Fashion !"

I wear a jacket by LEVI'S
Leather shorts by ABERCROMBIE FITCH
Shoes by SURFACE TO AIR
Bag by BALENCIAGA
Perfume "Flower Bomb" by VIKTOR&ROLF

Meatballs, No. 1 - Meatballs (1979)

The comedy genre tends to operate in waves, these waves often driven by concentrated groups of collaborators. Consider most of the great comedies from the late seventies through the eighties. Time and again you find the same names connected with these films, the same actors, writers and directors: John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Harold Ramis, John Landis, Ivan Reitman…

The story of the simultaneous ascent of these various minds, who would largely drive the evolution of cinematic comedy, is far, far too expansive for my lazy ass to attempt tackling right now. So I shall take a reductive approach, rather simply discussing Meatballs, in the hope that at least a scant amount of insight into this overall movement can come to light.

Meatballs was the first directorial effort of Ivan Reitman, following his work as producer of many great movies, and also an Ilsa entry. He had just come off of masterminding National Lampoon’s Animal House, the college film that destroyed all that came before and defined all that followed. This movie, of course, was directed by John Landis, later of The Blues Brothers and An American Werewolf in London. At this stage, Reitman was anxious to direct something himself, feeling the timing was right in the interim between Animal House’s production and its release. And since his last movie (as producer) was the quintessential college film, for his follow-up Reitman would simply identify another institution to riff on – summer camp.

The script for Meatballs was fashioned not so much as a narrative, but as a series of idealized summer camp memories. What little narrative it had was simply a scant adhesive to connect the individual moments together. Meatballs would focus on comedy, in marriage with a nostalgic slice-of-life reminiscence on childhood and adolescence – all in all, it’s a younger skewing and more innocent Animal House.

But a vague portrayal of summer camp does not a motion picture make, and so a head camp counselor character was devised to act as a master-of-ceremonies of sorts, one Tripper Harrison. There was only one man Reitman felt could essay this role, a man without whom Meatballs may never have happened, and who wasn’t even connected with the film until three days into shooting.

That man was Bill Murray. This was his first starring role.

Bill Murray is perhaps the brightest star of his generation of comedic minds, best combining wry, caustic humor and a certain common man schlubbishness all can relate to. Despite a total lack of movie star looks, or ego, or workaholism (or because of such things), Murray is, I believe, among the greatest movie stars of all time.

Murray began his comic career at the fabled Second City Chicago, the improv theater responsible for creating countless gifted performers. From there he teamed up with John Belushi for “The National Lampoon Radio Hour,” which led to an off Broadway “Lampoon” show, which then led to the creation of “Saturday Night Live.” Murray didn’t join the show until the second season, replacing Chevy Chase – isn’t it amazing how much historical talent passed through that show in its early years? This was the position Murray found himself in when he agreed to spend a summer with Reitman at an in-operation summer camp in Canada, to create a little independent film. And indeed, with Animal House yet to prove the generational phenomenon that it was, Ivan Reitman had yet to truly prove himself, as did Murray and untested screenwriter Harold Ramis.

Looking at Meatballs from a future perspective, it appears a (minor) part of an incredible string of movies to follow, with rotating creative members from film to film…films such as Caddyshack, The Blues Brothers, Stripes, Ghostbusters… On its own, Meatballs is a tad underwhelming, but considered in this company, one can find the raw seeds that would make up the later movies.

In tone and narrative, Meatballs seems most akin to Caddyshack, though with somewhat reduced humor and star power. Quick! What’s the plot of Caddyshack? Apart from a basic “slobs vs. the snobs” theme, most people couldn’t answer that, no matter their love for that film. The same answer fits Meatballs, which simply follows a large group of young characters and assorted comic set pieces.

Murray’s Tripper Harrison is the glue, as stated. All throughout Meatballs, head counselor Tripper provides commentary and wry humor in a series of P.A. announcements across camp – commentary that also supplements otherwise gag-free footage of the actual camp operation (real campers interact with the actors on a regular basis).

Tripper’s first announcement precedes a montage of the various late teen counselors-in-training (CITs) who shall make up our main cast – the CITs, it turns out, were initially supposed to be the film’s entire focus, in earlier conceptions. These are the sorts of characters with names like Spaz, Fink, Wheels, Hardware, Lance, Ace, Horse, and the Stomach. Since then, many films have adopted a similar trick, and indeed many of the elements that define Meatballs have been diluted through time and overuse.

These character introductions are peppered with a very generous quantity of good gags, and I realize something – most movies nowadays don’t make the same effort at the mere density of humor. The jokes in Meatballs and its ilk get in and get out, cutting perhaps a little too early and trusting the audience to follow the jokes. Most comedies today are less trusting of audiences, spending entire scenes to set up and over-explain lame gags, lest anyone not get it. The artistry has been replaced with executive worry…but I’m digressing.

The CITs of Camp North Star, owned by mustachioed nebbish Morty Melnick (Harvey Atkin), greet their various young charges before four school buses in a parking lot, ready to spirit them away for a summer of rambunctious shenanigans. Little vignettes set up the standard camp counselor personas – characters who would regularly die horribly in summer camp movies a mere year later. Of chief interest among this group are Spaz and Fink (Jack Blum and Keith Knight), the token dweeb and fatso, respectively, ready for a season full of unrequited sexual awkwardness. There are also a few standard romantic subplots amongst the blander, (relatively) more attractive CITs, but thankfully this never becomes a preoccupation that cuts into the wackiness. And hardly anyone in this movie is supermodel hot like in most teen comedies – Hell, Bill Murray might actually be the most attractive person here.

With all this light silliness, a movie like Meatballs needs heart, something to really ingratiate the audience amidst all the prankery and raunch. Cue Elmer Bernstein’s light, soulful melodies, accompanying preteen Rudy Gerner (child actor Chris Makepeace), a character who embodies all the homesickness and loneliness one experiences at camp. Despite exclusion from his fellow campers, a series of scenes strung consistently throughout the story shall develop a sweet relationship between Rudy and Murray’s Tripper – this is seen particularly in scenes where they jog together through the woods. As is the case with this script, the relationship is sketched in hazy details, but it is the quality of the performances and chemistry that really endears this subplot, and really elevates Meatballs beyond the humor. Murray’s consistent ad-libbing helps, his character doing a fine job to undercut the treacle.

(This particular connective tissue is the result of later reshoots, as Reitman and company understood that comedy on its own could not sustain the picture. It was a good decision.)

While we’re still here in the parking lot, let’s focus on the other major element in this story: Camp Mohawk. In a rare moment of truly arch humor, an actual newsman is on hand to report the start of the summer season at this super-exclusive, $1,000-a-week camp resort, across the lake from the rough and tumble Camp North Star. That’s right, here is the germ of all those “slobs vs. the snobs” eighties comedies (already commonplace in other forms dating back to at least the Marx Brothers). As the first example of the eighties snobs, Camp Mohawk does not come across as nearly as hateful as its followers. One would be forgiven for expecting an entire plotline defined by vindictive rivalries between the two camps, so it’s to Meatball’s credit that the relationship between North Star and Mohawk remains good-natured and sportsmanlike.

Sorry, but one final thing to mention during the parking lot scene (I’ll speed up, I promise). Tripper manages to worm his way into the news broadcast, posing as one of Mohawk’s activity coordinators, an excuse for Murray to perform a truly awe-inspiring bit of ad-libbing brilliance. This is the sort of moment that can be ruined in writing, so I’ll simply mention to watch out for his wonderful bit about Sexual Awareness Week…Heh heh, “raping and pillaging.”

Most of the remaining movie, which we’ve barely scratched, is simply a series of vignettes presenting a lightly comic summer camp experience, buoyed by Murray’s observational antics. I cannot comment directly on how nostalgic or accurate this is to others’ childhood camp experiences; despite my plentiful experience in the wilderness, it’s never been quite as structured – if that’s the right word – as Camp North Star. Still, childhood is childhood, and Meatballs seems truthful where so many Hollywood movies appear calculated. I can’t speak for all directors, but I guarantee Ivan Reitman wasn’t always an adult.

There is little point in actually relating the structure or content of the film. All the comments I’ve made in regards to the characters and humor should suffice. (There is a particularly amusing running prank, though, where the campers transport the sleeping Melnick to a new random exterior location each and every night.) Camp Mohawk has barely even figured into the story for about 80% of the movie, until dialogue goes and announces mere moments before it happens that tomorrow is the big, all-camp Olympiad.

The Olympiad between Mohawk and North Star is an opportunity to grant this rather aimless narrative a climax of sorts, and to give triumphant crowning moments to each of our main characters. But since this is nominally an underdog story, the first day of competition (out of two) sees Mohawk roundly triumphing over North Star, for the twelfth year in a row. Some amount of underhanded Mohawk cheating takes place, but compared to most other movie antagonists, it all seems rather inconsequential. Oh wait…they intentionally break one girl’s leg during field hockey…Yeah, if Mohawk’s lawyers weren’t so high-priced, there would’ve been lawsuits from that one.

If Meatballs has any claim to classic status (apart from just being sorta old), it’s the next scene. Melnick proves just as useless as ever in trying to pump up his camp charges, so our hero Tripper takes the bull by the horns to deliver what is truly one of the greatest pre-battle speeches in film history. And this speech’s greatness comes from how decidedly it mocks all those other speeches – Patton in particular, in my mind. To repeat Murray’s performance here in its entirety would again be futile (if you want, go check out the quote on the IMDb, or better yet, watch the freaking movie). Still, the climactic sentiment warrants endless repetition, both here and as one’s mantra throughout life as a whole: “It just doesn’t matter!” Is there any better way to psych up a ragtag assembly of losers than that?

Indeed, North Star’s newfound Zen-like ambivalence towards the Olympiad leads to their resounding success the following day – all accompanied by a funky, boppitty disco tune (unquestionably dated). At first I thought this tune was called “Big Balls,” (I’m an AC/DC fan, okay) but it turns out, much more sensibly, that it’s called “Meatballs.” Okay, that makes sense, even if the movie’s title itself never does.

A montage carries us through the majority of North Star’s carefree conquests. We win at swimming. We win at baseball – hitting a ball down a big boobed girl’s shirt, for this PG film is the spiritual predecessor to all filthy sex comedies to follow.

Spaz, that lovable dweebazoid, wins in a tense game of…tea cup carrying? Okay then.

Wheels wins rounds of woodsy wrestling with wild, well-timed ways.

Fink feeds fiendishly on fried frankfurter foods (“Look at those steaming weenies.”), triumphing against a Seth Roge-esque moose – these fat kids are lucky Kobayashi wasn’t around yet.

The rival camps are nearly tied, and it’s time for the final event, a four-mile “marathon.” North Star is at a disadvantage, due to that vicious leg-breaking yesterday, but the almighty Tripper has the solution. See, he’s been cross country training with Rudy, the film’s young heart, remember? Rudy protests this honor, but Tripper pumps him up as Rudy “the Rabbit.” Rudy thus earns the confidence he needs to win, finally besting the far-older Mohawk runner in a tense straightaway sprint that I’m sure anticipates Chariots of Fire – if only I’d ever bothered to watch that movie. So North Star wins the Olympiad, and Rudy earns the respect of the entire camp.

The summer has come to an end, surprisingly soon, and it’s time for misty-eyed, heartfelt goodbyes, and promises of more great summers to come (in the form of several unworthy sequels). A sweet song that sounds like the kind of thing Randy Newman writes sees the school buses home, everyone having learned a little from the past summer – even Tripper.

And Melnick is stranded asleep on a raft in the middle of the lake, victim of Tripper’s final prank.

For as much as Meatballs echoes the caustic, anarchic humor that defines so much of Murray’s and Reitman’s careers, it is also surprisingly sweet. It is a decidedly amateur film, but made with hints of the dedication and craft that would serve those films that followed. And indeed many great films would follow Meatballs, only they weren’t sequels. They were the likes of Caddyshack, Stripes and Ghostbusters. As for the three alleged sequels, they are mostly unrelated efforts made by different filmmakers and starring different characters. The only thing they have in common is an entirely nonsensical food-based title. And I have little to say about those things…for now.


Related posts:
• No. 2 Meatballs 2 (1984)
• No. 3 Meatballs III (1986)
• No. 4 Meatballs 4 (1992)

Tatiana - Place Vendôme - Paris

Tatiana
"I am a Fashion student at Studio Berçot
For me Fashion is game. My look is sober.
I love to laugh and to have fun.I hate people
that don't give you a break. If I had 1 000€
to spend in Fashion Stuff, I would buy the last
Alexander Wang Bag with cloves. My message
to the world: Live your life to the max !"



I wear vintage Skirt top-shirt and jacket.
Shoes by Zara
Headband selfmade
Bag by AA
Perfume "Alien" by T.MUGLER

Whiplash - Heman rip work in progess

I'm thinking a new styled HeMan fighting game (streetfighter ish),, hence the mma gloves and sponsors on his shorts. Might have a crack at RamMan next.

Amsterdammers

I took a day trip last weekend to Amsterdam with some of my sorority sisters and we had quite a lovely time. I can't say that I can spend more than a weekend there, because there isn't too much to do other than museums, well if you are not looking to partake in the (illegal)legal activities I suppose. But on the whole we had a great weekend and it was nice to visit the Netherlands.

Amsterdam Cool Point #1 is that everyone...EVERYONE rides a bike. The streets are full of parked bikes rather than cars. It was kind of refreshing to see honestly.

Amsterdam Cool Point #2, waterfront city. All waterfront places automatically get my vote. I wasn't born near the beach, it wasn't even our regular vacation spot but for some reason I have an obsession with water. Its relaxing to sit next to, its fun to play on, and its pretty in pictures. Check, check, check.

Amsterdam Cool Point #3, the city seemed pretty lively and exciting. Yes, we did visit on a day of a huge soccer match, so I am not sure how hopping it normally is in town, but I enjoyed watching people run about the city with excitement nonetheless.

Amsterdam Cool Point #4, the people are SUPER friendly. Anytime we got lost which we managed to do many times in one day, someone gladly left everything they were doing to step outside and help us with our bearings. They also did this with a smile and jokes, they were so happy rather than annoyed that someone would dare come visit their city and then not know every street by heart.....ahem...France.

Have you visited Dutch-land mes cheries?

Andy of Style Scrapbook - Paris

Andy of Style Scrapbook

Dress by H&M
Shoes by H&M
(both next collection)
Belt by MOSCHINO
Sunnies by D&G

Phantasm, No. 4 - Phantasm IV Oblivion (1998)

While Don Coscarelli has always remained the writer and director and sole caretaker of the Phantasm phranchise, that’s nothing to stop phans from creating their own phiction. This is nothing new in the Internet world, but appropriately for this series, Phantasm’s phan phiction is something different. A certain spec script, Phantasm 1999 A.D., was put together, written by one Roger Avary – noted Hollywood producer and freaking co-writer of Pulp Fiction. The man’s no slouch! So impressed was Coscarelli that they decided to go ahead and philm his story, now retitled Phantasm’s End.

The intended movie was to be a massive epi,c truly exploring the multi-dimensional realm Coscarelli had created. It would move Phantasm phurther from horror even closer to the fantasy/sci-fi/horror hybrid it wishes to be. We’re talking a wild, Aliens-esque action extravaganza, with Reggie alongside a platoon of commandos (possibly led by the incomparable Bruce Campbell!) assaulting the Tall Man’s great “Plague Zone” that now comprises the majority of the United States. This story would irrefutably put an end to the present series narrative thread, even while it opens up the possibility for a phuture trilogy to follow it. Coscarelli was set to make this, and all his regular actors were in place. Nothing could stop them!

Except the budget. Though Phantasm’s End wouldn’t be costly in absolute terms, it would altogether cost way too much for a bizarre niche series like this one. Still, by 1997 all the production elements were in place to make some Phantasm movie, and Coscarelli was riding an enthusiasm for the series. The decision was made to create an entry to precede Phantasm’s End, something that could drum up interest and phunds for the phollow-up. That movie is today’s subject, Phantasm IV Oblivion (and note how the “iv” in “Oblivion” becomes the numerical “IV”).

The movie begins, as we’ve already seen so many Phantasm and non-Phantasm sequels begin, with extensive footage from former entries bringing us up to speed. The editing here is far more effective than before, setting a tone more than a concrete explanation – one of the major concerns of this movie, and one that’s fitting with the series as a whole when you factor in the dreaminess of the original Phantasm. And counting the original Phantasm is far more important here than for most sequels, since extensive phootage phrom that philm phinds a phooting here. (Okay, I’ll stop that “ph” thing.)

The original cut of Phantasm was reputedly around 3 hours long – meaning a lot got cut out to render it the crazy hour and a half we now love. Coscarelli happened to find archives of his old footage around the time Phantasm IV was in production, and opted to supplement his picture with never-before-seen deleted scenes reincorporated into this story. This helps flesh out a movie with a rather minimal budget. It also works under Phantasm’s premise, as time travel, dreams, alternate universes and realities are increasingly becoming the name of the game here – our characters from two decades past can somehow still have an impact. And since the same cast remains in place, the old footage bridges the gap between Phantasm and Phantasm IV, communicating time’s passage quit effectively.

I’ll just go ahead right now and offer up my impressions of this movie as a whole before I go and dissect it like the Tall Man does Mike Pearson. This is a really peculiar beast, requiring knowledge of the three films preceding, and even an engaged involvement with the wilder extremes of those entries. For phans who have grooved on the action/comedy/horror tone of the last two entries, Phantasm IV is a shocking departure, returning to the seriousness of the original Phantasm without sacrificing an inherent playfulness (the humor here is not as overtly pronounced as in the other sequels, but its dry delivery actually makes me laugh far more). The wildness remains, as Reggie (Reggie Bannister, cult film god) always delivers, but the focus here is more and more on a brooding minimalism. It’s almost a tone poem told through the contours of a sci-fi horror mash-up, and I dig it. Answers are provided here, not to fully clarify everything going on, but to present enough tangible mysteries to leave fans with something to debate while creating a palpable emotional resonance. This is far, far more than Phantasm III ever aimed for.

In regards to answering the cliffhanger that ended that film, this movie just tries to move past it as best it can. The characters themselves seem to be of this mind too. The wicked, extra-dimensional undertaker Tall Man (Angus Scrimm, his age no longer a problem with how his role is written) has Reggie at his mercy, with dozens of CGI Sentinel Spheres. (I am not a CGI fan, and that goes double for late 90s CGI, but the Sentinel Spheres are that sort of chrome creation that works perfectly with the technology.) So the Tall Man can do with Reggie as he wants, and he simply lets him live, considering Reggie not worth the effort. “Take great care how you play. The final game now begins.” By the way, we never see nor hear anything about young Tim, captured in Phantasm III’s final image, and that’s really just as well. Let’s just treat the worst elements of that film like the leprous pariahs they are.

Mike Pearson (A. Michael Baldwin, the best he’s been) drives a black hearse alone through the desert darkness. He recounts through voice over the recent surgery and “evolution” he is undergoing, facing the Tall Man’s efforts to, presumably, make him one of his own. Mike recalls footage removed from the first Phantasm, recounting the final day of childhood peace before the Tall Man came to town. Lovely scenes of Mike, Reggie, and Mike’s brother Jody (Bill Thornbury) precede the Tall Man’s arrival, his hearse violating the idyll and murdering a dog. The nature of these flashbacks is in question, how it relates to the reality of the present story. This is the sort of ambiguity this series does at its best, equivocating between dream, real, and various modes of untrustworthiness.

The Tall Man is now endlessly connected to Mike, his power to affect him, create portals, etc. far more limitless than ever, as his swath of desolation seems to spread endlessly across the country. In vague terms, the Tall Man appears to Mike in the hearse to entice him to, essentially, come over to the Dark Side – so to speak. It’s never remotely as clear cut as in Star Wars. Mike, for his part, realizes his only option is to entice the Tall Man away from his element for a final duel of wills. With this in mind, Mike heads for the dead center of Death Valley, a vacant wasteland totally lacking in human refinements – like Detroit.

But while I may be grooving on this minimalist embrace of the void, we must rejoin Reggie for a bit of wacky horror-violence nonsense. Parked on the side of the desert highway, Reggie faces off against a demonic state trooper revenant. I don’t wish to go into details about this random moment, so I’ll simply recount the best part: The cop pukes yellow blood into Reggie’s mouth! Good times.

It is the middle of the day, and Mike’s hearse has overheated in the middle of Death Valley – this setting is thankfully distinct from the now-tiresome mausoleums. Mike crawls through a maze of lovely rock formations, somewhat resembling Kirk’s Rock, while evil dwarves stalk him at a distance. At this stage Mike recalls the Tall Man’s forced surgery, which leads to an unexplained black and white flashback to the Civil War, where a period Tall Man operates in a period tent on period Mike. Period. There are many interpretations to this bit, not worth exploring here.

Despite occasional cutaways to Reggie’s random, this movie prefers to remain with Mike, and just Mike, as he succumbs to his own mind in the desert. That indicates just how different this is from the other sequels, what with their nunchukas and chainsaw duels and pink Cadillacs. Mike encounters a tuning fork portal alone in the flat sands, a nice improvement on the Dali-esque surrealism we briefly saw in Phantasm III. Then Mike just goes right ahead, apropos of nothing and yet so appropriately, and hangs himself from a dead tree. He dangles, somehow not dying, as he recounts a truly revelatory new scene from Phantasm’s footage…

Here, Mike and his brother manage to hang the Tall Man from a tree, leaving his deathless body there to rot. The Tall Man contacts young Mike telepathically at home: “Boy…Cut…me…down!” Thus, in spite of all morality and self-preservation, Mike indeed cuts down the Tall Man. They face off, each going their own way without conflict. In light of the Tall Man’s recent wooing of the increasingly-conflicted Mike, new light is shed on this old footage.

The Tall Man appears like a monolith, head blocking out the sun, as Mike tumbles from the tree. He offers out his hand, a starling image that sums up the film. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.” A portal fades in, finally justifying how these items can appear at the Tall Man’s convenience. Mike passes through it, not heeding the Tall Man’s warning: “Careful what you look for…You just might find it.”

Mike is in a 19th century home, surrounded by Tesla-like inventions, notably two old-timey electrical rods resembling a steam punk tuning fork portal. Out on the porch he finds – da dum dum! – the Tall Man!...Wait, hold up. It is Angus Scrimm, but he reacts with surprising human decency towards Mike, introducing himself as Jebediah Morningside. That’s right, this is the sort of late sequel that sees fit to write an origin story for its villain. Fortunately, Coscarelli never bogs us down in this material, pretty much just presenting it and moving on. And it does offer an insight into the Tall Man’s origin, and what might be in store for possible successor Mike. For Jebediah is creating a dimensional portal, a means to further explore notions of death beyond our mortal realm. The result, shown later in the film, is that Jebediah passes through the portal and instantly returns as the alien Tall Man. This explains some, but still retains the Tall Man’s source of power as an eternal mystery. As it should be.

Mike returns to the desert to experience further temptation from the Tall Man, turning this into something quite rare – a possible Christ metaphor that doesn’t piss me off with clichés. Roughly a dozen dimensional portals await Mike in the sands. (It’s like a horror movie directed by Gus Van Sant…Oh schnikeys!, wait, Psycho!…Never mind.) Mike rejects this teleporter temptation, and rather Mike muses in the maze, discovering his new psionic powers can crush scorpions (and dwarves) with boulders. Soon Mike is hard at work on the hearse’s engine, creating a steam punk Sentinel Sphere all his own – possibly inspired by Jebediah’s handiwork. The spirit of Jody makes continual appearances to Mike, as he has throughout this self-imposed exile, with questionable aids of help.

Obviously Mike’s presence has been beefed up considerably, making up for his long absence in Phantasm III. But the less thoughtful phans are here to see Reggie shoot midgets and bang hotties, so let’s have a little fun with that material. Reggie encounters something truly unusual out on the highways – a new character. This is Jennifer (Heidi Marnhout), who quickly crashes her car to avoid a tortoise (shades of Blade Runner). Reggie rescues her from the overturned car, which promptly explodes, as cars in this series are endlessly wont to do – a peculiarity Reggie actually points out here. They make their way to a motel, where Reggie tries to put the moves on Jennifer – contrasted nicely with Mike huddled around a nighttime campfire, alone in the expanses of Death Valley. Reggie once again learns the error of his horndog ways, as he finds Jennifer’s breasts are actually Sentinel Spheres. The mere motel setting, as opposed to a mausoleum, seems like a revelation for a Sphere confrontation, and the boob thing makes this more interesting too. Reggie defeats the Spheres with his musician’s tuning fork – carried over from the original Phantasm – and puts an end to the zombified Jennifer with a sledgehammer. In another entry, this would be a scene full of wackiness, but here it’s downplayed somewhat to avoid conflict with the tone of Mike’s travails.

Speaking of those travails, they are soon ramped up in terms of otherworldly eeriness. Jody leads Mike on a trans-dimensional tour of space and time, highlighted by a visit to the completely abandoned Wilshire Boulevard in L.A. Now this is a cool update on the standard vacant Main Street visual from before. Reportedly, Coscarelli and crew couldn’t achieve this moment through legal means, so they employed guerilla filmmaking to visit Wilshire at sunup when it actually is deserted. Truly creepy… (Those jerks who did I Am Legend could learn something about achieving a stark cityscape without sacrificing millions of dollars in the process.) Dialogue hints, and we are left to assume, that this is the future, once the Tall Man has truly effected his war of eradication.

Reggie reaches the hearse in Death Valley, driven here by some unexplained compass. A fun horror-comedy montage sees Reggie suiting up for a final battle, readying his famous four-barelled shotgun, and awesomely donning his old ice cream salesman uniform. It’s odd what sort of weirdnesses we’ll accept sometimes, because this is fist-pumpingly cool. Reggie then proceeds to have one of his little shootouts with the multitudinous dwarves, prompting his to comment on how good he’s getting at this particular feat.

Mike returns through a portal, having had a temptation session with Jody on a ghost beach. He embraces Reggie in reunion, whispering into his ear not to trust the Jody ghost. Reggie passes Mike the tuning fork, at which point Mike suggests to Jody a plan for truly stopping the Tall Man – a return to the time of Jebediah to prevent him from using his “portal switch.” Off they go, to enact a plan that shortly proves impossible, seeing as Mike now exists in a different dimension than Jebediah (a nice solution to the time travel paradox issues we’ve briefly courted here – Phantasm movies consider time in wildly unusual ways).

Jody reveals his ultimate betrayal, acting as one of the Tall Man’s revenants as he and the Tall Man pin Mike down in a cemetery, ready for more unnecessary surgery. I’m going to hurtle through this climax stuff. Mike escapes by using Reggie’s tuning fork, killing Jody in the process – at this point a slim sliver of the human Jody pokes through, clarifying for good that the real Jody did indeed die in a car crash way back in 1978-ish.

Mike returns to Death Valley for a final battle against the Tall Man (Reggie proves barely capable of lifting a finger against the hyper-powered Tall Man). Mike’s main plan involves battling the Tall Man with his homemade Sphere, and since there’s an unexploded hearse nearby, the Tall Man’s death is accompanied with its explosion. What Mike didn’t count on, despite four films’ worth of experience, is that with a nearby portal, a new Tall Man can instantly emerge, resurrected by whatever extra-dimensional process accomplishes such things. This Tall Man, following some mysterious motivation, siphons the golden Sentinel Sphere out of Mike’s skull, leaving him to die on the desert floor. The Tall Man leaves back through the portal, while Reggie has a final moment with his dying friend. Then, against all fear or reason, Reggie arms himself and leaps through the portal for further adventures.

The final scene is one from Phantasm, recounting a heartfelt moment between young Mike and Reggie, driving along in the ice cream truck. Voiceovers interact with twenty-year-old dialogue to suggest that Reggie (and maybe even Mike) have somehow returned to their former selves, but with knowledge of their entire decades-long battle. They drive into the darkness, a possible temporal cycle established, as we fade out without the standard glass-smash ending I’ve grown so tired of. This, as much as anything else, marks Phantasm IV as an entirely justifiable ending to the series, even if this world remains murky and dark.

So what lies in the Phantasm phranchise phuture? Phans remain hopeful despite all hope that Phantasm’s End might someday be made, and kick ass to their wildly heightened expectations, despite evidence Coscarelli has no current plans to do anything with it. Hell, Coscarelli has spent most of the past decade (when he’s not busy directing a single episode of “Masters of Horror”) struggling to get a Bubba Ho-Tep sequel off the ground. There’s been so little success on that front, it seems even less likely for another Phantasm. Factor in Scrimm’s wildly-advanced age, and things seem pretty dire on that front.

Ah, but the original Phantasm dates from 1979, and is an acknowledged horror classic – with sequels. As we are presently living in the Age of the Remake, that puts it in huge danger of being remade, surely something no phan wants, and something no one else could care about. Thankfully, Don Coscarelli has retained control of his series over the years, and he is vocally opposed to remakes in general! He understands, as an auteur far, far in advance of a businessman, the pointlessness of remaking Phantasm. That’s not the way to bring new phans to the phranchise. It’s a cult series, with a slow trickle of people who find these philms, yet they remain eternally devoted to them. I think Phantasm is just phine as it is, and I’m really glad I made this journey.


Related posts:
• No. 1 Phantasm (1979)
• No. 2 Phantasm II (1988)
• No. 3 Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead (1994)

Denni the Chic Muse - Paris

Denni the Chic Muse

Blazer and Dress by D&G
Shoes by TOPSHOP
Perfume: "Idole" by ARMANI
"Fashion is everything for me. I want to be a Stylist ...
I love Paris & New-York and I don't like brown color.
If I had 1 000 €, I would buy a BALMAIN Jacket.
My message to the world: Be Happy and always move on !"

Andrea - Montorgueil - Paris

"I study to be a photographer.
For me Fashion is change. Today, my look is
very casual. I don't like people who are late.
I love to take pictures of my friend, Pauline.
(3 posts under). If I had 1 000€ I woul buy
an Alexander McQueen dress. My message
to the world: You don't know me yet, but I will
become a famous photographer !"



I wear shorts and T-Shirt by H&M
Shoes by POTI PATI
Silk Scarf by ETAM
Watch by SWATCH
Bracelets selfmade
Perfume: "Chance" by CHANEL

Phantasm, No. 3 - Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead (1994)

Oh damn it, I’ve just realized I’ve gone and broken one of my own rules! I’d specifically wanted to avoid considering direct-to-video entries as part of a franchise, since that phenomenon has unnaturally lengthened the life spans of some ridiculous series. Seriously, any excuse to avoid the dozen Land Before Time sequels is a good one. But here I’ve gone and tackled the Phantasm series, and it turns out both Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead and its sequel saw video release rather than theatrical. Okay, there might have been a few theatrical screenings, but I can’t find any evidence of that…Fine, I’ll let it slide this time, and review the rest of the Phantasm phranchise, but I don’t want to make a habit of it.

With Phantasm III, writer/director Don Coscarelli retakes his former role of producer, eliminating the possibility of executive interference as he experienced during Phantasm II. The third film, produced independently like the first, could serve without barriers to tell the tale Coscarelli wanted to tell. And while he initially promised to make good on revealing the various mysteries and confusions of the series, the end result was to fashion a sequel that simply raises more questions. And roundly divides the phandom at the same time.

We might question the wisdom of wanting to resolve the mysteries of something like Phantasm, as it works as an odd tonal experience more than it does a narrative. Such efforts are usually the purview of fan fiction, and indeed Phantasm III is really little more than a bit of fan fiction done by the series’ original author. As such it employs a number of bizarre tangents that all seem rather out of place in the series. But we’ll get to those.

When the last entry of a horror series ends with a cliffhanger, the follow up has two options: either ignore it altogether, or try to resolve it early on. And because Phantasm II ended with pretty much the same exact cliffhanger as Phantasm, once again we have a similar action scene to answer the dreamlike terror from before. But first we need a stock footage recap of the entire series to date, an unfortunate technique stemming from the dual factors of the series’ wildly irregular release schedule and its equally irregular (for horror) adherence to narrative follow-through.

This time, Reggie (Reggie Bannister, the series’ perpetual kick-ass balding ice cream salesman hero) is actually not dead, making this at least the third time he’s survived beyond all reason. Usually it’s very unsafe for a character returning to a horror series – that’s surely the case with Part 2’s tacked-on love interest Liz, who soon finds herself both dead and decapitated (not the same thing in this universe). But Reggie lives on, as does Mike Pearson (A. Michael Baldwin, the original Mike, now returning after his forced leave of absence in Phantasm II). To save his pal Mike, Reggie engages a forest full of demonic midgets in a shootout, lacking very much the urgency of the equivalent scene in Part 2. He faces off against the all-powerful Tall Man (Angus Scrimm, noticeably aging), ensuring Mike’s temporary safety through tactical use of a grenade.

Returned to his independent roots, Coscarelli is able to reinvest the series in its theme of dreams, even while he retains some of the linear storytelling technique from Phantasm II. This means that, at least for portions of the film, logic sails off to Tahiti while semi-surreal imagery insinuates the next plot point upon us. We now get our first taste of that, as Mike dozes in a hospital recovery room and has some sort of an encounter with the Tall Man in a white realm – possibly some sort of afterlife. But Mike is saved by the exceptionally surprising return of his brother Jody (Bill Thornbury), meaning this is a complete cast reunion. Jody is some sort of a ghost, as per this series’ remarkably confused metaphysics, and he is all that stands to break the strengthening psychic bond between Mike and the Tall Man. Man these philms are bizarre.

Mike awakes in the hospital. We can relax now, right? Oh no, not in Coscarelli’s world. For the nurse proves to be a demon/zombie/something, attacking Mike with a crazy, possibly fictional surgical device. But in comes Reggie to save the day, naturally. One of the series’ trademark Sentinel Spheres emerges out of the dead undead nurse’s brain, and this chrome ball hovers about. I hope you like these Spheres, because most of Phantasm III’s additions to its bestiary are Spheres. This particular Sphere employs a human eyeball to scan Mike, this footage soon reflected on another Sphere in the Tall Man’s grasp way off in his nebulous dark realm. So he knows where our heroes are, and they therefore must return to the road in flight.

Reggie and Mike drive along in a Hemicuda, and it’s probably not the same one as before, since that exploded last time – or did it? You can never really trust this phranchise. Then they go to a house, possibly Reggie’s house, which also blew up last time. Here they find Jody, who issues certain cryptic statements, since surely it’s too soon for explanations now. Then Jody employs early 90s CGI to transform himself into one of those Sentinel Spheres, all this to defend Mike from imminent Tall Man attack. The Jody-Sphere proves pretty useless, as the Tall Man simply roasts it into an inanimate charred ball. So much for that then. Reggie is knocked out, missing out on the more phantastical elements of the movie as usual, while the Tall Man drags Mike off through a nearby tuning phork portal in the hallway. And that’s what the glorious return of Michael Baldwin accounted for – vanishing phrom the philm phifteen minutes in. He won’t be back until the climax.

(Also, the way the portals work has changed up this time. It used to be they were hidden away, apparently immobile, but now they seem to come and go in any location as best serves the Tall Man. It’s possible his power is growing, or whatever, but this is an example of the weird discrepancies that make this philm divisive.)

Reggie has to do something now, so at a loss he actually tries to manipulate the Jody-Sphere like a Magic 8 Ball. He is prompted to Holtville, and one short road trip montage later he is there, along another deserted, boarded-up Main Street – this is the sort of imagery that clearly loses its potency through overuse, especially when deployed for something using the cadence and tone of 90s horror. I can count the genuinely frightening horror movies from the 90s on…um…zero fingers. (Okay, fine, Silence of the Lambs.)

Reggie explores the sidewalk and finds an attractive slut – this is Reggie catnip. Ah, this is just a set up, for now there are scavengers looting the abandoned towns, a rare bone thrown to realism, which sadly lessens the realism of this scenario with the questions it poses. The female scavenger and her two male companions take Reggie hostage rather than robbing and/or murdering him – the only real justification being that Reggie has to survive since he’s the hero. The scavengers drive both the Hemicuda and their own gay pink Caddy, randomly heading to an old pink mansion. Note the sudden omnipresence of the color pink, as well as the outrageous garb these scavengers wear, like a sub-sub-subpar Mad Max knockoff by way of early 90s rappers. That’s right, everyone, we’ve entered the realm of intentional camp. [Shudder…]

I realize now I was a bit premature with my Macaulay Culkin reference in the last write-up, because the next scene beggars the comparison very much on purpose. Inside the hot pink mansion, our post-ironic scavengers encounter a series of Home Alone traps, the only difference here from the Chris Columbus movie being that now the child’s traps cause death rather than pratfalls. Seriously, Home Alone would have killed a man ten times over had it been meant as a direct-to-video gore picture. The kid in this one, Tim (Kevin Connors – that’s almost the kid’s actual name from Home Alone), kills all three intruders by means of a tomahawk, an unlikely spiked Frisbee, and a tiger trap. Remember when this series was a moody tale of terror and grave robbing? No one apart from Coscarelli wanted this particular evolution.

Tim has been set up as a surprisingly kick-ass horror hero kid, but this mostly-purposeless scene is Tim’s only moment of true awesomeness. From now on he simply fills the role of the “kid in a horror film,” usually a dire sign of watered down terror. Come on, Coscarelli, you risked this hand in the phirst Phantasm, and succeeded far beyond expectations with child Mike – a second attempt is just asking for trouble. So Tim bonds with Reggie, revealing he is the lone survivor of the Tall Man’s rampage through Holtsville. And astoundingly, Tim knows to call the Tall Man “the Tall Man,” even though “the Tall Man” is simply a nickname Mike gave this nameless extra-dimensional murderer over a decade prior. And for the phans’ benefit, Tim provides actual names for common series elements: the dwarves are now “lurkers,” and we learn the Sentinel Spheres are called “Sentinel Spheres,” meaning my previous use of that term has been, er, ahead of the ball.

Tim and Reggie hit the road, pausing briefly to realize the scavengers’ corpses have been dug up – expect to see them make a return later on. Reggie does the sensible thing, dumping Tim off at an ad hoc orphanage that has sprung up in reaction to the mass deaths, only Tim insists himself upon this story by stowing away in Reggie’s trunk to continue the adventure. This ain’t gonna end well for you, kid.

Reggie reaches the Holtsville mausoleum, which is actually a set straight outa Compton. Seriously, they filmed in a Compton mausoleum! Whoa! Reggie goes in, has the standard mid-movie encounter with a deadly Sentinel Sphere, and also meets a duo of sassy black warrior women (and possible lovers), Tanesha and Rocky (Gloria Lynn Henry). As since I listed the actress for Rocky and not for Tanesha, that means Tanesha is not long for this world. Indeed, she earns the one-per-film death-by-Sphere, no real variations to this bit. And because this philm is camp phirst and phoremost, Rocky proceeds to battle the Sphere with ninja nunchukas – they prove useless. Okay, it turns out Tim has one final useful moment, as he arrives to blow the Sphere away with a pistol. Now, Rocky teams up with Reggie and Tim to track down the Tall Man, and much like Blade: Trinity, Phantasm III suffers from an all-new action trio to draw attention away from our preferred hero.

The burnt and inactive Jody-Sphere again has to point out the plot to our heroes, as again the story seems to have dried up. So they wend their way to Boulton, yet another in a series of similarly abandoned towns, none of them ever any different from the rest. Our heroes make, er, camp at a hot pink neon motel, where Reggie the horndog attempts to make the movies on Rocky, undaunted by her obvious lesbianism. Rocky pulls out her handcuffs – let’s all guess where this joke is going – and uses them to stop Reggie rather than as the S&M tool Reggie so clearly desires.

One entire day later, and they’re still on the road towards Boulton – how far apart are all these various small towns? And even now they haven’t made it to town, so they take up camp off in the woods. The time has finally come for an indecipherable but entertaining dream sequence. Reggie first imagines himself phucking Rocky (it’s not a dirty word when it’s misspelled), allowing for the genre-dictated tit shot. In one of the philm’s phunctional bits of comedy, human-form Jody watches on and comments as Reggie works. Reggie then races out after Jody, moving through many bizarre settings according to nothing more than dream logic: a motel room, a dried lakebed, a blue laser tunnel portal, and a darkened chamber full of candles. There he (phinally) discovers Mike, entrapped in what is basically one of those Japanese cubicle hotels. They free Mike, the Tall Man comes to threaten them, and Reggie wakes up…

Apparently what happens in dreams has an impact on the real world, or the movie is just refusing to make obvious sense again, since one of those tuning fork portals is suddenly right there at the campsite, beyond any series metaphysics I understand. Mike escapes through the portal, and soon the Tall Man is on his way out too. Reggie shuts off the portal off, avoiding the major event horizon chaos of the original Phantasm, and the Tall Man’s hands sever in our dimension. Cue a high-pitched horror-comedy routine as the two hands transform into hand-bug-things, once again echoing better moments from Evil Dead II. Every one of our four heroes screams, mugs, and the bugs are finally killed off.

So what should our heroes do now? Well, events follow here not due to a narrative so much as because the same things happened before. We’re now roughly three fourths of the way through the film, the time for the traditional Phantasm car chase – what other horror series can you think of that regularly features car chases? This marks the grand return of the scavenger trio as generic, self-aware monsters. These beasts feature prominently throughout the rest of the film, making for an uninspiring replacement for the various dwarves and gravers from before. This particular chase ends with the scavengers’ pink Caddy crashing ridiculously, then blowing up. The scavengers are written off as dead, so they can provide requisite shocks later on.

The four heroes decide out of nowhere to head off to the largest Gothic mausoleum in the world, reasoning more that it’s the “last place he’d look” than “this is a good place for a climax.” Creeping around, they discover a vat of liquid nitrogen – cue Walt Disney reference. Mike phlashes back to Phantasm phootage, reinterpreting it two philms later to suddenly mean the Tall Man is hurt by the cold. It’s a bit late in the series to introduce a new silver bullet.

Okay, but it is late enough in the movie for the Jody-Sphere to provide Mike with the explanations we’ve all come here for. They commune on an autopsy table, Mike entering a dream sequence of the Tall Man removing brains from corpses and shrinking them into his beloved Sentinel Spheres. Jody explains he is creating some sort of army to conquer the multiverse – for all its promises, this is the only new information given by this entry. It turns out Jody’s decision to send Mike to this particular dream was a really bad idea, given the quasi Elm Street rules at play here, since the Tall Man senses Mike and pursues him back to our world.

This entry’s climactic mortuary craziness for the same comic insanity as Phantasm II, yet somehow falls short of that mark. Reggie, Rocky and Tim all have various battles with the three scavenger zombies, returned yet again and proving wildly impervious to death right up to the point where the writer/director wants them to be dead. A little gore is tossed about, but to our displeasure and the MPAA’s joy, its effect is lessened since it’s all yellow blood. To give you an idea of how this all plays out, a major phocus of this sequence is the kung phu nunchuka phight between Rocky the lesbian and the scavenger slut girl – “Yo bitch! Hands off my boy!”

I said the philm raises more questions than it answers, right? The vast majority of those come from the Tall Man’s climactic confrontation with Mike, implying some sort of shared past or future or something that is clearly meant to set up a sequel to provide answers. Keep perpetuating that series, guys! The Tall Man maybe performs some sort of awful surgery on Mike’s brain, either turning him into a yellow-blooded, Sphere-possessed revenant or simply realizing those latent qualities Mike already possessed and…What the hell? I’m all for deepening a series’ meaning, but care must be taken.

Phinally the other three heroes (Reggie, Rocky and Tim) come along and rescue Mike, depheating the Tall Man in a walk in phreezer. But all seasoned horror watchers know this just can’t be the ending, so indeed here comes the ultimate, ultimate horror – a golden Sentinel Sphere bursts from the Tall Man’s shattered head to harass out heroes in, like, the series’ sixth scene of a hallway Sphere attack. Reggie happens upon a unique and humorous solution, trapping the Sphere on the end of a plunger. They all struggle like the hams they are over this plunger-Sphere, phinally, er, plunging it into the liquid nitrogen vat.

Mike, his world shattered as much as the viewer’s, phlees outside into the cemetery, where he encounters human-form Jody. Mike asks Jody what on earth is going on, to which Jody says “seeing is easy, understanding – well – it takes a little more time.”…No kidding!

Well, Mike has vanished into the darkness, and Rocky has driven of uselessly in the hearse rather than remain with this series. This leaves Reggie and young boy Tim to return to the mortuary to “look for evidence.” What that means is they’ve returned to be assaulted by the latest “shocker” ending, which at this stage we simply recognize as the set up for the next philm. Reggie gets a cool phate, as about twenty Sentinel Spheres pin him to the wall. Poor hyper-hetero Reggie never wished for so many balls in his face. Boringly, zombie hands simply pull Tim through glass. That’s the exact same ending as the last two philms, so it’s lost all its impact now.

It hardly pheels like Phantasm III is by the same writer and director as the rest of the series, so concerned is it with pushing new elements (camp, karate, Home Alone satire) that have no place here. I get the impression that Don Coscarelli really wanted to make a different sort of movie, but could only get the phinancing he needed for a Phantasm picture. As for those “explanations” that simply muddy the waters further, I truly believe Coscarelli understands his own cosmology, perhaps a little too much. He is too close to conjure up an explanation for newbies. Hell, I’d only recommend this movie to people intimately familiar with the other entries, and even then with major reservations. This is one of those phabled closed-off sequels, like the later seasons of “Lost,” only it suffers because, as the third philm in as many decades, who could possibly be following these things closely enough to get it?


Related posts:
• No. 1 Phantasm (1979)
• No. 2 Phantasm II (1988)
• No. 4 Phantasm IV Oblivion (1998)