Nightbeast

NIGHTBEAST
(NR, Amazing Film Productions, 81 mins., release date: November 1982)

Don Dohler reluctantly if energetically recreates his decade-old The Alien Factor for the early 1980s exploitation scene with NIGHTBEAST, the most notorious of Vinegar Syndrome's 2019 Halfway to Black Friday home video releases. Distributed through VIPCO in the UK, the cassette release was classified a "Section 3" Video Nasty, which meant that, though not prosecuted on obscenity charges, VHS merchants were bound by law to turn over their copies for immediate expulsion/destruction. Nightbeast enjoyed a smoother reputation in America; after a spell on the Las Vegas-based Paragon Video, it was snatched up by Troma in the early 1990s and became ubiquitous enough to merit an appearance in Panos Cosmatos' Mandy. And a 15-year-old composer named Jeffrey Abrams, who was a disciple of Dohler's from the days of his self-published Cinemagic magazine, made good in his thirties by creating the likes of Alias and Lost for ABC under the name J.J.

At this point in time, close to 1978 (the year when The Alien Factor was distributed through Cinemagic six years after completion), Dohler was still reticent about filmmaking, having agreed to turn over directorial reins for Nightbeast to Alien Factor star Dave Geatty, who found himself in over his head. Geatty's inability to function on a micro-budget left him behind schedule and over budget (he spent a day trying to perfect a single tracking shot and with nothing to show), and at least 15 people on the cast & crew turned up at Dohler's doorstep issuing a joint ultimatum. The project fizzled enough so that Dohler could scale back and direct his sophomore effort, 1980's Fiend, in comparable peace. But the siren's call of Nightbeast proved irresistible, and new director Dohler started it back up shortly after the release of Fiend.

The year now being 1982, Don Dohler could no longer attract attention just by blundering his way through an old-fashioned monster mash, as the post-slasher vogue for instant sensationalism was in full swing. Splatter and sex were in, handmade yet hokey visual effects were not. This tendency towards luridness is on full display through Nightbeast. Not only is the gore quota high enough that it would have undoubtedly warranted an X rating, but there are also two instances of violence towards women which would've sent Siskel & Ebert leaping off the balcony. And they involve the two "actresses" who were successfully coaxed into providing top-to-bottom nudity. There is also a more liberal use of profanity compared to The Alien Factor.

It's not even the sordid accoutrements of the modern horror trend that shows up Dohler's need to adapt. The titular space invader no sooner claims his first few victims than he is engaged in back-to-back shootouts with the Perry Hall PD, firing his trusty laser disintegration pistol at the hapless expendables doing no damage with shotguns and six-shooters. Though one elderly marksman pries the advanced weapon from the alien's grip, it comes at the expense of his son's life, leaving Sheriff Jack Cinder (Tom Griffith) to butt heads with Mayor Bert Wicker (Richard Dyszel) over evacuation protocol and the very real need for outside help. That election-minded Wicker blows off the warnings to carry on a pool party meant to schmooze up to Governor Embry (Richard Ruxton) is typical; when townie Jamie Lambert (Jamie Zemarel) embarrasses him by dispersing the party with warnings of a "poison gas leak," it reduces the Mayor and his ditzy secretary Mary Jane Carter (Eleanor Herman) to alcoholic wrecks awaiting their most gruesome comeuppance.

Not that Sheriff Cinder and his aides aren't oblivious to the danger from within. Blindsided by the arrival of an intergalactic mutilator, they fail to properly deal with psychotic biker Drago (Don Leifert), who is shaping up for notoriety as the Perry Hall Strangler. First, Drago murders his girlfriend Suzie (Monica Neff) in a jealous rage, and after getting beaten by the avenging Jamie in a fistfight, he takes out his aggression on Deputy Lisa Kent (Karin Kardian) until Jamie finally finishes him off by blasting a hole through Drago's chest. All the while, the three law enforcers and their scientific allies (George Stover and Anne Frith as Steven Price and Ruth Sherman, respectively) scramble for a solution to besting the indestructible alien.

Give Don Dohler this much credit: the nastier elements of Nightbeast impose a slickness which provides more novelty than the aimlessness of The Alien Factor. And want as I am to turn the other way at the predominantly cheesy acting talents on display, quite a few in the cast display greater gusto just as well. Although Dyszel and Herman are all too believably insufferable in their comic banter ("Stop calling me Bertie!"), Jamie Zemarel makes a strapping second banana and his longtime friend Don Leifert, doing a 180 from the mild-mannered astronomer who saved the day thrice in the last half of The Alien Factor, is gleefully demented as the brutish Drago. And George Stover, whose propensity for camp was nurtured as much by John Waters as by Dohler, blends in just fine as the concerned doctor. Equally reliable is the input of creature effects artist John (The Deadly Spawn) Dods, who understands that while sympathetic aliens are defined by their eyes, the least friendly of them squeak by on their instruments of chomp.

Nightbeast is a tighter, more efficient, certainly more outrageous retread of The Alien Factor by any metric, but one can still sense Dohler bucking under the strain of newfound expectations. The love scene between Sheriff Cinder, all gray perm and handlebar mustache, and his blonde deputy comes right out of nowhere and is inconsequential to a fault. A gut-ripping attack sequence early in the film is edited like the Tasmanian Devil yet still ridiculous protracted. The film ticks off nearly all the same boxes as The Alien Factor, and is shameless enough to refer to characters by the exact same names as in Dohler's earlier effort, which hinders the amount of genuine surprises to the more sordid supplements. And the limited resources may be admirable when it comes to optical effects and cinematography, but they're taxing for some of the performers; Karin Kardian was the hairdresser to Dohler's aunt, and you can tell by the thinness of her role and the abilities she brings to it.

But damned if Dohler's scrappiness doesn't have its charms, and being issued on Blu-Ray by Vinegar Syndrome does wonders for the first few minutes alone. The Nightbeast's entrance makes it clear that there is nowhere to go but down, thus ensuring the R-rated material its own undemanding appeal. And if, say, the creature from It Came Without Warning tended to be less hands-on in his approach to murder, preferring to launch bloodsucking Frisbees at his quarry, then the Nightbeast's grisly rampage is chock full of claw-sullying horror. I can see why this would appeal to a Stephen Thrower (the Nightmare USA author who extolled the movie's virtues on the second Video Nasties trailer compilation) or a Mike Vanderbilt (the Daily Grindhouse drifter who spilled ink on this back in 2015 for the AV Club). It was made for a Troma or a Vinegar Syndrome to revive, and may well live up to its reputation as Don Dohler's most accessible film, make of that what you will.

What's indisputable is the uptake in video quality, with Nightbeast presented in its original 1.33:1 aspect ratio in a 2k scan from the 16mm negative. No hi-def presentation will ever relieve Nightbeast of its gaudy, grainy source flaws, but it sure looks well-calibrated in all of its colors, although reds and blacks tend to fare best. Nighttime sequences will no longer strain anybody's eyes, although the detail of the lasers burn straight into your retinas. Flesh tones are believably natural and the monster mask holds up well under closer, clearer inspection. Nothing distracting in the way of compression artifacts or haloing, and print damage is minimal. The monaural DTS-HD track brings out J.J. Abrams' keyboard/piano score nicely; his contributions were mostly chase sequences as well as the requisite tender love theme. Rob Walsh's compositions as well as library music gets an equal boost in clarity, and dialogue remains understandable despite the mix's limitations. The sound effects may lack directionality, but retain their punch.

Extras start with the theatrical trailer ("This is the story of how the little people answer the big questions!") and a four-minute visual FX gallery, plus the same outtake reel which appeared on the Troma DVD release. Also recycled is the feature commentary track with Don Dohler and George Stover, which the latter dominates with his recollections of special effects challenges and friends/family in walk-on roles. They touch on some various homages (including Vincent Price and The Thing from Another World) and provide ample detail about locations, which isn't surprising given Dohler himself remained in Perry Hall until his passing at age 60 on Dec. 2, 2006.

Dohler documentarian John Kinhart locked down interviews with Dohler and the also-departed Don Leifert, as well as comments from Stover, Greg & Kim Dohler and J.J. Abrams, himself, all of whom are heard on the 25-minute "Nightbeast Returns." There's more detail on the project's doomed genesis as well as an anecdote about how Abrams, at 16, enlisted his grandfather to drive him to a video story so he could buy a VHS copy of Nightbeast for posterity. Three fresh interviews shot specifically for the VinSyn edition include actor Jamie Zemarel, cinematographer/actor Richard Geiwitz (who also shared associate producer credit with Stover and Tom Griffith) and visual FX artist John Ellis (no relation to Alien Factor alumni Dave Ellis), each lasting 15-19 minutes. Zemarel, who won a contest to be an extra in the blockbuster Grease, didn't realize how big his role in Nightbeast was until he was handed the script and is refreshingly self-critical. Geiwitz does a nice job breaking down his own beginnings and visual quirks, while Ellis is upfront about his working relationship with Dohler and the literal pennies used in presenting a cinematic version of outer space.