David DeCoteau

  • Creepozoids (1987)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2022) If I asked you to picture a low-budget 1980s monster movie set in a post-apocalyptic research facility, chances are really good that you’ll end up imagining something much like Creepozoids. This isn’t a badge of quality as much as an assurance of obviousness: the film seldom deviates from the easiest, most conventional path. The paper-thin plot has a bunch of WW3 survivors finding shelter from acid rain in an intact research facility. But that’s really just an excuse for gathering a bunch of disposable characters together in an enclosed set for one shower scene, and a bunch of death sequences. The violence escalates along with the gooey special effects, as our characters run down the same corridor set multiple times. Not much of it has any internal consistency or credible drama – the narrative logic of the film is to rip everything off from Alien, without caring much about whether it’s justified in-between the deaths. The staging is terrible and the shrieks make no sense (boy, that giant rat sequence!), but what else could we be asking for? Noted VHS-era pornstar (and occasional mainstream guest) Ashlyn Gere shows up in a minor role – or rather: as minor as a film with six actors can have. First-time writer-director David DeCoteau would go on to have a long and too-prolific career as a purveyor of low-budget schlock. Creepozoids is terrible no matter how you look at it, but if it has one saving grace, it’s being almost exactly what we imagine a bad Sci-Fi horror film from the late 1987s to feel like. If you’re so intent on being a cinephile to experience the worst alongside the best…

  • Retro Puppet Master (1999)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2022) Writer-director-producer Charles Band and his Full Moon Pictures studio are known for low-budget films, but if there’s something else that keeps popping up in their filmography, it’s puppets. Puppet antagonists. Puppet supporting characters. An entire thirteen-film Puppet Master series, of which Retro Puppet Master is the seventh. Band did not technically direct Retro Puppet Master (long-time acolyte David DeCoteau did, but that’s not much of a distinction) but his stamp is everywhere on the film. You can recognize the hallmarks of the Full Moon Pictures’ low-budget style everywhere in the production, what with its meandering plot, unconvincing period production values, low-grade actors (including Greg Sestero, eventually made famous by his involvement in The Room) and, obviously, a lot of puppets. No Full Moon films are good, but some of them squeak by on rough charm and quasi-accidental enjoyment. Retro Puppet Master is not one of them – it just limps along with a self-involved plot that doesn’t manage to become interesting, and is clearly part of a cult following for the Puppet Master series. Maybe that’s you, in which case – have fun. Otherwise, there are better movies out there and, more crucially, better Charles Band movies as well.

  • Witchouse (1999)

    Witchouse (1999)

    (In French, On TV, October 2021) Hey, real talk right now, OK? We’re among friends here, and it’s not as if the whole Internet’s watching. I will always have a look at witch-themed horror films because I believe, as many filmmakers do, that witches are sexy. The dark gothic thing works well with me, and once you throw in the idea that witches know things that mortals don’t, and that historically they were the women with enough sense to move away from the village to have their own house in the forest and that’s a potent mix. Lighthearted horror film Witchouse does several things wrong (including a misspelled title), but one thing it does get right is Ashley McKinney Taylor as a twentysomething witch inviting “friends” over to her haunted manor for a weekend of fun and games. It is, predictably, a trap meant to conjure the spirit of her long-dead ancestor, but—shh—the point of the movie is having the characters have sex and die, or figure out the threat they’re facing. In addition to the whole witch angle, I’m also a sucker for haunted-house stories and Witchouse’s thin budget does manage halfway credible gothic sets. Monica Snow is very cute with glasses and curly hair, but her survival isn’t much in doubt as the story moves through very familiar plot points. Witchouse is not a good movie by most objective standards—coming from low-end Full Moon studios and directed by B-movie-making machine David DeCoteau (as “Jack Reed”) and produced by the legendary Charles Band, this is meant as very light horror—not quite comedy, but not overly sombre either. There’s a good heaping of nudity and comparatively light violence, a formulaic story and just enough production values to enjoy the result. It’s not refined cinema, but expect a review of Witchouse 2 as soon as I can get it…

  • Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama aka The Imp (1988)

    Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama aka The Imp (1988)

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) Look at that tile. No, don’t just look at it. Take it in. Revel in its greatness. Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama. Don’t dwell too much on how the film will never equal the promise of its title. Chuckle at how it’s also known as The Imp, which is one of the shortest titles on record. Yes, it’s possible to see a film based on a title alone. Alas, expectations quickly get tempered once the Full Moon production logo shows on-screen — this isn’t a company known for good movies, and even their so-bad-they-re-good titles aren’t a substitute for, you know, actually good movies. This being said, Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama does deliver at least half of what its title suggests—it’s a silly horror comedy that does bring together much of what made 1980s horror films so interesting—dumb premise, college-aged protagonist, buxom nudity, rubbery special effects, unconvincing violence and nonsensical plot developments. The silliness has something to do with six young people breaking into a bowling alley and being held captive by a wish-granting imp, but if you expect everyone to walk away with their fondest desires made real, then you’re not paying attention to how this is a cheap horror film. It’s watchable — and while this sounds like faint praise, it’s actually much better than many of its humourless, overly grim contemporaries. On the other hand, I’m stopping well short of calling it something worthy of being a cult classic or a hidden gem. Director (and Full Moon stalwart) David DeCoteau moves through the motions. The film probably contributed quite a bit to the genesis of later Full Moon production Evil Bong, but doesn’t quite make the most of what it has at its disposal. Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama is a disappointment only if you compare it to the genius of its title or any of the characteristics of a good film — but it does much better when put against other cheap 1980s horror films.