WARLOCK
A review in the public domain
by The Phantom
(baumgart@esquire.dpw.com)
Surprise of surprises, WARLOCK was actually released -- to a paying audience -- in New York City, the place the Phantom calls home. This caught the Phantom somewhat off-guard, as he expected that WARLOCK would suffer a fate similar to that of BRIDE OF REANIMATOR, which is even now shocking unsuspecting parents of the twelve-year-olds who are renting it in droves from Blockbusters across the country. The long-awaited sequel to the cult classic REANIMATOR got either no theatrical release, or such a limited run that it made no difference; for all intents and purposes, the film went straight from the mind of Stuart Gorden to a half-dozen video duplicators across the country.
Such things depress the Phantom, for he knows that there is a market for horror out there, if only the independent production companies responsible for most of it could muscle their way into our increasingly monopolized theater chains. Getting an independent film into movie houses is no mean feat these days, even -- or perhaps especially -- in New York, which has been neatly divvied up by MCA/Universal on one hand and Loews/Paramount on the other. These days, some films are playing everywhere, and some almost nowhere, and never does it have anything to do with the quality or type of film -- just the distributor.
WARLOCK's story is slightly different: it was one of the last few films still on the shelf at New World Pictures when that 'B' movie powerhouse found that all its low-grossing schlock had come back to haunt it straight into Chapter 11 proceedings. Even two hit television series (The Wonder Years and Tour of Duty) couldn't save it, and when the lawyers had finally finished picking over its corpse, there was WARLOCK, still in the can. It appears that rather than let it go completely to waste, some small and limited distribution was made overseas (the Phantom believes that it may have had its world premiere in Australia, of all places), followed quickly by an equally brief showing stateside. As the lights dimmed and the film began, the Phantom was pleased to note the many scratches and splices that this "New York premiere" copy of the print already contained. Sadly, that print had seen more states, more countries, and the insides of more theater auditoriums than the Phantom is ever likely to see in his lifetime.
(THE PUNISHER, WARLOCK's brother on the shelf at New World when the debt hit the fan, is likely to suffer a similar fate; both films were advertised in in-theater previews two years ago, and it's only now that WARLOCK is seeing the light of day. The Phantom is still rather eagerly awaiting the estimable Mr. Dolph Lundgren in his near-Shakespearean, sure-to-be-remembered-at-Oscar-time performance.)
That said, the Phantom should move on to the film itself, which turned out to be quite enjoyable in a low-key, low-rent sort of way. Directed by Steve Miner, WARLOCK feels very much like Miner's 1986 horror-comedy HOUSE, which turned out to be a surprise box-office hit. It was a film that blended just enough laughs with just enough scares and offered little to offend anyone. Audiences responded well to its style and pacing, which resembled nothing so much as an extended episode of Tales from the Darkside. It was, in a way, the ARACHNOPHOBIA of its time -- though unlike ARACHNOPHOBIA, people actually went to see HOUSE.
WARLOCK tells the story of an upwardly-mobile demon, who travels through space and time in search of each of the pieces of the Devil's Bible (which in the film is referred to very gravely as "The Grand Grim Something-Or-Other" -- the Phantom can't quite remember, though everyone had very serious expressions on their faces when they said it). This anti-Bible, when reassembled, would also show the true name of God, which, if spoken backward, will cause all of existence to be uncreated -- a sure way to end the film, if there ever was one, so it pretty much guarantees that nothing of the sort will happen for at least 90 minutes. For reassembling the Bible, the Warlock would be rewarded by meeting the Cursed One himself, or by becoming his servant, or his chauffeur, or personal assistant, or something of that nature. In any case, it was a definite career advancement for this very 80's-style warlock. On second thought, perhaps the Warlock wanted to be more downwardly-mobile than upwardly-mobile.
With long blonde pony-tail, custom (all-black) tailoring, and a profile that looks like it came straight out of an Armani ad, Julian Sands plays a very charming demon. But trailing him out of the past -- in reverse TERMINATOR style -- is a certified "good guy" (to borrow a phrase from Chuckie) named Redferne, who is bent on avenging the death of his sweetheart. And has been so for centuries. Talk about grudges...
Redferne had last tangled with the Warlock in the film's opening scenes (set in late 17th century Massachusetts), and it was only by the narrowest of margins that the Warlock escaped public execution. Curiously, he was sentenced to be hung and then burned over a basket of live cats. The Phantom isn't sure what effect this last part of the sentence is supposed to have had -- perhaps baskets of live cats were used regularly as part of the complex criminal justice system of the late 17th century -- but as our Constitution now clearly prohibits allowing cats anywhere near a public execution, the Phantom suspects that such a sentence will come as quite a shock to some of the more liberal members of the audience. Frankly, the Phantom would consider even 100 hours of community service with a basket full of live cats to be cruel and inhuman punishment, and so he was once again reminded of just how lucky he is to be living in these more enlightened times.
Both the Warlock and Redferne pop up in late 80's Los Angeles, which seems less of a shock to the Warlock than it does to Redferne, who arrives (and remains) dressed somewhat peculiarly in furs, as if he had last been tracking the Warlock through 17th century Montana rather than pre-colonial Boston. One of the film's small in-jokes is that neither the Warlock nor Redferne attract much attention in L.A.
Also on hand is our heroine -- Kassandra (with a 'K') -- who makes the mistake of letting the Warlock get away with one of her personal objects; as it happens, one of her cheap plastic bracelets is all he needs to cast a devilish hex on her. This gives Kassandra some personal incentive -- beyond just the saving all of existence -- to help Redferne stop the Warlock from completing his task and getting that corner office in Hell.
The film focuses almost exclusively on the chase, and this is just as well, since it keeps the bogus Catholic theology to a minimum and the plot humming along. Other recent bogus Catholic theology horror films have fared both better and worse: THE EXORCIST III was a far superior film, but it took itself very seriously and was excessively stagey at times. On the other hand, no one -- apparently least of all the filmmakers -- took THE FIRST POWER very seriously, and in addition, it spent far too much time attempting to explain things and far too little time on acting lessons for Tracy Griffith for it to have been much good. (THE FIRST POWER was a terrible film, but in many ways it stands as the best homage ever made to one of the worst horror -- or mainstream -- films of all time, EXORCIST II: THE HERETIC, a film that featured nothing *but* pseudo-Catholic theology and fabulously bad acting.) WARLOCK, by way of contrast, uses the Warlock's quest for the Grim Whatever as the means to a very ordinary ends (a 60 minute chase with the requisite fight to the death before the closing credits); fortunately for us, it spares only the briefest of moments on all the theological mumbo-jumbo. In a sense, WARLOCK could be considered the HARD TO KILL of horror films, and with his excess of charm and male-model good looks, it's easy to think of the Warlock as the Steven Seagal of demons. Julian Sands plays the Warlock like Steven Seagal plays, well, Steven Seagal, and the Phantom could never shake the thought that at any moment the Warlock was going to take on a gang of bikers in a billiards parlor, swinging a pool cue in lethal fashion while keeping one eye on himself in the mirror over the bar. However, although the Warlock does engage in some gratuitous acts of violence early on, he soon limits himself to scuffling with old Mennonite farmers and threatening meek looking priests.
Things proceed pretty much as you might expect -- WARLOCK is a film that holds few surprises other than the timing and placement of a few assorted Spring-Loaded Cats -- but the film doesn't really suffer for being completely predictable any more than did THE TERMINATOR, on which it is quite obviously based. (WARLOCK also adds a dash of WITNESS and a pinch of THE OMEN, just to keep from being too bland.) Instead, its predictability and good humor are its assets and account for much of the film's considerable charm. As with HOUSE, there is little for all but the most severe critic to find fault with; it is a film that's much too easy-going to dislike. On the other hand, neither is it a film that will be much remembered in a few months -- like a good episode of Tales from the Darkside, one might think of it fondly for a week or two and then let it fade painlessly from memory. Unlike Tales from the Darkside, however, WARLOCK will be back to remind us all of its existence in a few months when it reincarnates itself as a video release in Blockbusters nationwide.
Among the film's high points are the acting, which is as good as it gets in this sort of film -- though the Warlock's first victim could give even Tracy Griffith a run for the worst actor of the nineties -- and the dialogue, which is unusually witty, especially when either the Warlock or Redferne is uttering an oath of some sort. Redferne's Scottish accent is a tad bizarre, and he says "Tarry not" a lot, but his speech and dialogue play off well against Kassandra's beach-bimbo L.A. chatter. There are continuity errors aplenty -- starting not even 10 seconds into the film with a pay telephone that rings as its receiver hangs at the end of its cord -- but the plot has no gaping holes and at least attempts to make sense when it needs to. And although the special effects sometimes seem to have been salvaged from POLTERGEIST's cutting room floor, they are mostly adequate and occasionally first-rate. As an added bonus, the editing is quite good and the music, by Jerry Goldsmith, is better than it has any right to be.
To be honest, WARLOCK isn't really worth seeing in the theaters (even if you can find a theater in which to see it). Better to wait a month or two and then check the recent release section at Blockbusters. The film's easy-going nature and general good humor will play just as well at home as it does in the theater, and the popcorn is free.
All in all, WARLOCK is not -- by any means -- a great horror film -- but it's entertaining and diverting, and the Phantom recommends that you give it a try, especially if you're looking for something a little lighter than the standard horror fare.
: The Phantom
: baumgart@esquire.dpw.com
: {cmcl2,uunet}!esquire!baumgart
.
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