Popcorn (1991) Horror Movie Review

by Carly Marie
(509)

BHM Reader Submitted Review

Does Popcorn ever redeem itself in a fit of unbridled horror? Nope, but thankfully it never takes itself too seriously- except in the respect and admiration it gives to Old school 50’s shock horror, in the vein of genre legends like William Castle-and that makes all the difference…

Remember when independently owned video stores housed a bevy of classic horror, before the popularity of DVD and pre-Blockbuster WalMartization. It was a simpler time, when any self-respecting horror freak could find a primo copy of Bad Taste sandwiched between 'C.H.U.D' and 'Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things'. It was at just such a store that I first glimpsed Popcorn. Even with the smudgy fingerprint tracks of some horny, obese teenager, the front cover looked bright and alive, almost cartoonish in its simplicity: A coy skeleton hiding behind a mask barely resembling our Girl Friday, Jill Shoelen, as 20-something theatre student Maggie. I pleaded with my big brother to see it, but he brushed me off, and years later I have the feeling he knew something I didn’t: This Popcorn is certainly an acquired taste.

Anemic, Caucasian faces molded of latex float lifelessly in a jar of preserving fluid. Popcorn is splashily etched across the screen. In my book, as far as memorable opening scenes go, Popcorn ranks among 'Suspiria' and 'Ghost Ship', but for all the wrong reasons. Rather than follow my gut and grab for the clicker to push EJECT, I lock my knees and lean back. This is the pose I hold for the first 30 minutes of the movie for fear of bolting out of the room, as I’m ushered through a quick and dirty dream sequence, care of Maggie-which I actually enjoyed for its queerness, Italian style cold red and blue color schemes and the genuinely odd dream character Lanyard Gates, whom at first appears to be the central villain in the film- but my enjoyment ended with the introduction of some of the lamest college co-eds to have ever graced my television screen. A group of rag-tag film students of average looks (except for Schoelen, known for banging Brad Pitt in the 80’s) and varied talent are forced to come up with some cash to keep their beloved theatre program running, and their teacher, Mr. Davis (as played by Tony Roberts), employed. Roberts takes the role of the sweet, Jewish soul who we quickly guess has more than a fatherly appreciation for one of his students (and their relationship thankfully leads to the only really tasty delivery of gore later on in the flick).

Mr. Davis, with the help of lame-brained student Toby, comes up with an idea to solve the lack of funding: All Night Movie Marathon Bitches! And thank God for that, because at least the venue they use is fantastic, a gorgeous send up to oldtimey theatre houses, which provided at least eye-candy while being forced to watch the co-eds schlep around the theatre, cleaning it up, being obnoxious, and generally trying to fill time while seemingly inexplicable Jamaican music drums along-which makes sense only after the credits scroll and ‘Filmed On Location in Jamaica’ streams by-looks like somebody shopped around for a bargain locale?

It’s worth noting that the movie’s failing points may be dependent on the well-known casting and behind-the-scenes issues, including directorial changes and character swaps, even switching leads from Amy O’Neill to Jill Schoelen while in production. (Wikipedia).

In the process of getting the theatre ready the group find a film reel stuffed in a box of decorations and decide to Christen the theatre in the only proper way: they toss on the reel and take a seat. It appears to be a film directed by acid-head-AKA Maggie’s dream demon from earlier-Lanyard Gates, whom Mr. Davis informs us was ushered out of the hip 1970’s film scene because his self-proclaimed movies looked more like trash to the high-brow critics than art. In an act of rage against his naysayers, Lanyard attempted a show with a live ending: the slaughtering of his family while under a drug induced trance. Sound a little like a classic 1970’s exploitation/retribution flick in the making? Hell yes! But, be forewarned, Popcorn itself never veers towards seedy 70’s grindhouse status, instead, it takes its cues from another bygone era.

Somewhere near the latter half of the movie-also the point where it stops completely sucking-ass, due to us finally seeing some kills, some movement and even dialogue from previously comatose actors, and the slightly contrived, but admirable plot twists in action, I wondered: Where is the sex? It’s got so many foreshadowing ingredients: the dark, shitty film transfer reminiscent of 'Grindhouse', the heady dose of B-movie cheese, college co-eds, an R rating for Christ’s sake, the over-sexed professor having an affair with a Mariel Hemingway look-a-like, and still NO DICE. I’d of loved to see at least one hormone riddled 18ish kid sidle up close to his lady love with a tub o popcorn, while all the while a surprise schlong waits inside to turn their date at the movies into a hot and heavy stroke-fest…

It is here that Popcorn looses an audience of willing genre fans who will gladly sit through a ringer of a flick, if given enough sex, gore and general playfulness along the way. Sadly, Popcorn has very little, if any, of these important details, allowing it to gravitate towards ‘made for TV movie’ territory more than once. When I find I’m missing gratuitous violence, flesh and other fillers I know that the movie itself is lacking something. All the audience is left to focus on is the movie’s saving grace- the fantastic use of hokey, old-school 1950’s style B-Grade horror flicks played on the theatre’s big screen. These segments are generally funny and clever reflections on the greatness of old-school horror at its height. If you have a copy of William Castle’s, The Tingler, you’ll appreciate the attention to detail, including the gimmicky use of nurses delivering shots to out of control movie-goers, that Popcorn lends these little films. Gems like ‘Mosquito,’ which include the use of a giant-sized bug swinging through the theatre aisles on a tethered rope draws some actually funny bits of heckling from the viewing crowd, but these movies add life to the flick the way a stronger ensemble cast could have done here, driving climatic scenes and providing humor where it is surely lacking.

Character development in the film is almost nonexistent, save for Tom Villard as Toby, whom I at first found painfully annoying with his North Dakota-like accent and ‘Aww shucks’ demeanor, but he eventually grows some much deserved balls throughout the course of the film, lending his character a sense of fanaticism that is at best genuinely bizarre and at worst tiring and whiny. As for the rest of the cast, I really don’t remember much about them. Kelly Jo Minter, who plays the mostly mute Cheryl, is a recognizable character from the 'Nightmare on Elm Street' franchise, but her brazen, smart-ass attitude isn’t properly taken advantage of here, instead she’s mostly ignored, along with genre vet Dee Wallace-whose on-screen appearances with her character’s daughter, Maggie, make her look more like the butch half of a lesbian relationship with her femme girlfriend than a mother daughter combo. Hot? Maybe, but not at her best, and certainly not what you expect from a woman who's played opposite a demon dog in Cugo and fighting for her life against hillbillys-gone-wild in the original The Hills Have Eyes. Schoelen’s Maggie is mostly a wreck: boring, uninventive and monotone, which is really a shame as she is handed the film's climatic scenes on a platter. I had to convince myself that this was the same girl from 'The Stepfather'.

Is it watch-able? Somehow, yes, despite innumerable flaws, and some of the worst dialog I’ve ever heard-including a request from Maggie to her horny boyfriend, would you “…hold me..” We understand that we’re seeing something that often finds itself trailing towards terrible, but it’s just so damn easy to watch, which is partly due to all the stimulus: A fascination with color, fantastic practical makeup effects, sometimes bumbling but consistently interesting camera work, elaborate sound effects (especially in one scene with Dee Wallace alone in the empty theatre at night that is an all-encompassing, cheesy, sensory experience I loved), over-bearing Jamaican music, and of course some satisfying, and often strange, slasher genre kills. And best of all, there seems to be an understanding among the cast to not take themselves too seriously. No pretense, no affected air, it’s like a group of public school freshman putting on a play who are just as surprised as we are to find out that they are not completely incompetent.

I recommend Popcorn with a warning: Only watch this in the presence of those who can appreciate old-school 50’s horror charades, the kind that would get the boys from Mystery Science Theatre 3000 all riled up, as they will be the least likely to make fun of you for wanting to watch it in the first place-and having someone around to bitch about the tiresome aspects of Popcorn will make it all the more tolerable while waiting for the good stuff.