"Perverts and
sluts! They are doing everything they can to take him away from us."
- Aunt Cheryl
 |
1981
Screenplay by
Steve Breimer, Alan Jay Glueckman & Boon Collins
Directed by
William Asher
|
I had never heard of
this film, until I noticed, via Twitter, that Turner Classic Movies would be
showing it for their TCM Underground, which typically airs on Friday
night/early Saturday mornings. TCM Underground has introduced me to some
great little films. I'm an early riser, so I may or may not have
accidentally on purpose woken an hour and a half earlier than usual to catch
this obscure cinematic gem.
From the terrific
title alone, I was expecting a trippy, surreal, pre-Nightmare on Elm Street
exploration of night terrors. I was wrong. What I got was a
psychological, pseudo-slasher film siphoned from the vein of Psycho. If
Aunt Cheryl ran a motel, this could nearly be a prequel to Alfred Hitchcock's
masterpiece.
Poor little Billy
(Jimmy McNichol, borrowing his sister's hairstyle) lost his parents in a very
spectacular and extremely suspicious car accident and had to be raised by his
doting and lonely Aunt Cheryl (Susan Tyrrell, forever altering how I view
Cry-Baby). Billy, on the other hand, has grown into a not so lonely young
man. He has a sweet, caring, patient girlfriend (a pre-Newhart Julia
Duffy) and he knows he can always rely on his coach (Steve Eastin), who wants
to see Billy get into college on a basketball scholarship. Life seems pretty
good for Billy until Aunt Cheryl asks him to contact the repairman so their
television set can be serviced.
 |
| Aunt Cheryl is a firm advocate for more sex on television. |
Aunt Cheryl, all
dressed up and ready for love, is hoping the TV isn't the only thing to get
serviced. She literally throws herself at the repairman who refuses her
voracious advances, finally shoving her away. Well, Aunt Cheryl will not
be ignored. She reacts very negatively by grabbing a knife, killing the
repairman and then claiming he was going to rape her.
Billy, who witnessed
the murder, believes his aunt. A police detective (Bo Svenson), on the
other hand, does not. The detective discovers an inscription on the
repairman's ring which romantically links the deceased with Billy's basketball
coach. In the detective's mind, Billy killed the repairman in a lover's
quarrel and Aunt Cheryl is covering for her nephew. The extremely
homophobic police detective refuses to believe any other scenario, even as
evidence to the contrary and dead bodies begin piling up.
 |
| For being homophobic, the police detective sure enjoys whipping out his big thing in front of other men. |
There are lots of twists
and turns and familial revelations before the story concludes in a shockingly
impressive way for the notoriously homophobic decade of the 1980's. SPOILER:
the police detective is NOT the hero of the film and Billy justifiably shoots
him dead. I give credit to the lingering effect of the 1970's, that
magical decade where it seemed that Americans were making a real effort to
understand and maybe even accept one another, at least on television and in the
cinema.
I rarely say this
about a film, but maybe it's time for a remake. A contemporary version
could more honestly explore Billy's sexuality and what skeletons may be lurking
in the detective's tightly sealed closet. A fresh look could also tighten
up the script a bit and give a little more insight into Aunt Cheryl's
delusional mind. Yet, perhaps these aspects are best left for the
audience to ponder after the final credit rolls.
 |
| Aunt Cheryl knows a glass of special milk will help Billy seriously relax. |
BUTCHER, BAKER,
NIGHTMARE MAKER isn't quite the
groundbreaking psychological suspense-horror thriller that it could've been,
but it's worth watching. So, relax, pour yourself a glass of milk and
enjoy this tale of love, loneliness, hate and serious family dysfunction.
Freak Out,
JLH
P.S. A piece of 1980's
horror that scarred me for life...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My autobiographical
Kindle e-book of half-blind poems is out there.
For more information
on VISION BENT, please visit The JLH Collective...
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