Editorials
[It Came From the ’80s] Belial is a Total ‘Basket Case’
With horror industry heavy hitters already in place from the 1970s, the 1980s built upon that with the rise of brilliant minds in makeup and effects artists, as well as advances in technology. Artists like Rick Baker, Rob Bottin, Alec Gillis, Tom Woodruff Jr., Tom Savini, Stan Winston, and countless other artists that delivered groundbreaking, mind-blowing practical effects that ushered in the pre-CGI Golden Age of Cinema. Which meant a glorious glut of creatures in horror. More than just a technical marvel, the creatures on display in ‘80s horror meant tangible texture that still holds up decades later. Grotesque slimy skin to brutal transformation sequences, there wasn’t anything the artists couldn’t create. It Came From the ‘80s is a series that will pay homage to the monstrous, deadly, and often slimy creatures that made the ‘80s such a fantastic decade in horror.
Writer/Director Frank Henenlotter’s feature debut, Basket Case, showcased how even with a meager budget, creature effects could still be impressive. An underseen gem that follows Duane Bradley (Kevin Van Hentenryck) as he arrives in seedy New York City with not much more than a large wicker basket. It turns out that what’s inside is his very deformed Siamese twin brother, Belial, who was surgically separated from Duane against their will during childhood. Despite Duane’s plucky demeanor, the brothers are in New York to unleash vengeance upon the doctors that separated them. Their quest is complicated by Duane’s budding friendship and romance with nurse Sharon.
There’s a scene in the film where Duane retrieves a wad of cash when checking into the hotel, and Henenlotter has later said that this wad was pretty much the film’s entire budget. Basket Case was the definition of guerilla-style filmmaking, with the cast and crew rushing through scenes to avoid run-ins with the police because they couldn’t afford the required permits to shoot. Which meant that they had to get creative with Belial, too. Hentenryck provided a face cast for the Belial puppet, as well as voice effects for his deformed twin, and scenes where Belial’s hand attacked victims was really just a glove worn by Henenlotter. A full-sized puppet was used in scenes where Belial’s eyes glowed red or when he shared a scene with another actor. It wasn’t the puppetry that transcended the minuscule budget, though Belial’s design is pretty cool, but the stop-motion animation. During a production under the pressure of no money and limited time, stop motion is a lengthy process. Belial’s rampaging was made all the more impressive for the effort, too.
John Caglione Jr. (Amityville II: The Possession, The Hunter, C.H.U.D.), Ken Clark, Kevin Haney, and Ugis Nigals, made Belial both frightening in primal slaughtering and heartbreaking with the expressive design. Trapped forever in a deformed body while his seemingly normal brother could fit right into society and find love meant that Belial was the type of monster that invoked both fear and sympathy.
Released theatrically in 1982, Belial’s story became a midnight movie hit for years after, and it wasn’t until 1990 that Henenlotter picked right up where he left off. Basket Case 2 and Basket Case 3: The Progeny were released a year apart, and really felt most like two parts to a single story. If it wasn’t clear before that Henenlotter viewed Belial as the hero, and humans as the monstrous villains, well, he hammered that home as Belial became a full-blown protagonist. Henenlotter didn’t even plan to have Hentenryck factor much into the sequels, save for maybe a couple of scenes, until distributor Shapiro-Glickenhaus Entertainment insisted otherwise.
Whereas Basket Case was a more grounded horror-comedy set against the sleazy underbelly of New York, Henenlotter dialed up the wackiness to eleven in Basket Case 2, with a plot that lovingly lampooned 1932’s Freaks. With a much higher budget, the sequel brought in a whole new group of monstrous freaks for Belial to call family and even a love interest. Lead by special effects artist Gabriel Bartalos (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Gremlins 2: The New Batch, Dolls), Belial got an updated makeover. Admittedly, I prefer Belial’s original, cheaper look, but at least the sequel gives me a lot of distraction with the fun character designs behind Granny Ruth’s entourage of misfits.
The jarring tonal shift between Basket Case and Basket Case 2 means that Belial’s story arch can become quite polarizing. You’re either going to love or hate that Belial essentially becomes a family man with a love of his own (don’t worry, he’s still a vicious killer), but the deformed, basket dwelling monster unleashed on unsuspecting audiences in 1982 is one worth adding to your viewing repertoire if you haven’t already. I’ll always have a soft spot for this creature from the ‘80s, and I think you might too.
The penultimate season of Tales from the Crypt (1989–1996) aired its first three episodes on October 31, so it’s understandable that at least one of those three stories is set on Halloween.
Sandwiched between “Let the Punishment Fit the Crime” (Russell Mulcahy, Ron Finley) and “Whirlpool” (Mick Garris, A. L. Katz & Gilbert Adler) is the most severe episode of the bunch. Maybe the entire series? William Malone and Dick Beebe’s “Only Skin Deep” traded the show’s typical sense of fun for startling amounts of bleakness and kink.
“Only Skin Deep” is, apart from the Crypt Keeper’s intro and outro, noticeably unfunny. There are no considerable attempts at making the viewer laugh. Come to think of it, if those bookends had been replaced, and there was more of a sci-fi element in the story, HBO could have easily squeezed this tale into that successor anthology, Perversions of Science (1997). In Crypt, though, “Only Skin Deep” is much too grim for an audience that had become accustomed to campiness and levity.
What makes “Only Skin Deep” feel dark, among other things, is its protagonist. Showing up to a Halloween party where he’s not welcome, and where his former girlfriend (Diane DiLasco) is attending, Carl Schlag (Peter Onorati) first comes across as your standard bitter ex. You soon realize it’s much worse than that, once Carl threatens Linda (“You know, silly me, thinking I gave you what you deserved. If I’d have done that, I’d have killed you”). Now, I haven’t forgotten that Tales from the Crypt was teeming with vile men who did women harm. Yet Carl’s brand of misogynistic menace hits differently—it borders on being too realistic for this kind of series.
Mike Vosburg’s EC-style comic cover for “Only Skin Deep”, as seen in the Tales from the Crypt episode.
Despite donning a party mask for much of the episode, Carl can’t ever mask his true nature. The invitation did say “come as you are”, after all. That inability to change and be better, however, is why Carl ends up in such a karmic predicament. His outburst of anger at the party attracts the attention of one loner partygoer named Molly (Sherrie Rose, who was also in Season Four’s “On a Deadman’s Chest”). Her bone-white, featureless “mask” and body-bag costume don’t initially register as too strange, especially on a night like this. But at a party chock-full of colorful, cartoonish, and lighthearted ensembles, it does look out of place.
Darkness attracts darkness as Carl ditches the party and accompanies the mysterious Molly to her place. Which, by the way, should have been an immediate red flag. But perhaps she’s so hot, he doesn’t seem to mind the serial killer aesthetic. Resembling a warehouse that has been converted into living spaces, but never then decorated to remove the cold, industrial look, Molly’s home (or lair) is as gloomy as this whole episode feels. It’s like the set of a grungy music video, albeit a tad cleaner. The environments in a typical Crypt episode tend to be small, overfilled, and broken-in. Warm, regardless of any weird goings-on. All that empty space in Molly’s hovel, on the other hand, elicits a creepy feeling that Carl was unwise to ignore.
Tales from the Crypt featured more sex than it didn’t, but hands down, “Only Skin Deep” boasts the steamiest scene in the show’s history. Pushing it over the line, in addition to Onorati showing bare buns and the camera never turning down one of his pelvic thrusts, is the twisted dirty talk. Carl stays in the moment, whereas Molly unleashes charged lines like “the hurt, the anger, give it to me” and “take it out on my flesh like you want to”. It’s all quite kinky, as well as tied into the story’s theme of pain.
How else “Only Skin Deep” differs from other episodes is its twists. Or rather, its lack thereof. Nothing comes as a great surprise here, particularly because the deuteragonist’s ulterior motives are so obvious. By no means is Molly a wolf in sheep’s clothing; her face is a fright mask, she practically reeks of death, and she lives in what can best be described as a serial killer’s hideout. That last-act revelation of Molly’s mask really being her face is also nothing shocking. Cleverness is certainly not this episode’s strength.
A page from “…Only Skin Deep!”, as seen in EC Comics’ Tales from the Crypt.
While “Only Skin Deep” isn’t the most universally loved episode of Tales from the Crypt, it’s an interesting preview of William Malone’s future as a director. Most notably, he went on to helm House on Haunted Hill (1999) and FeardotCom (2002), the former of which was co-written by Dick Beebe, this episode’s writer. Dark Castle Entertainment, that genre house founded by Crypt producers Joel Silver, Robert Zemeckis, and Gilbert Adler, was instrumental in bringing out Malone’s gruesome, over-the-top vision in House on Haunted Hill. However, FeardotCom and Malone’s Masters of Horror episode, “Fair-Haired Child”, are the most stylistically compatible with “Only Skin Deep”.
As one might guess, this episode is nothing like its source material. The “…Only Skin Deep!” found in the pages of EC Comics is set during Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and save for its last couple of pages, is pretty sweet in nature. There, a man named Herbert is enamored with a woman he met five years prior to the present-day story. Every year, he has come down to Mardi Gras to see Suzanne, who’s always dressed as a hag-faced witch. Well, this time, Herbert plans on popping the question and marrying someone who is, for the most part, a total stranger. Suzanne accepts his proposal, but with one condition: they stay in costume until they’re officially hitched. You can probably see where this is going…
Once they are married, Suzanne remains incognito, even when she and Herbert have consummated their vows. A semi-predictive nightmare then rattles Herbert; he dreamt that Suzanne’s real face was as wizened as her mask. Finally, in his haste to find out the truth, Herbert winds up killing his new wife. Faceless and well on her way to bleeding out, the dying Suzanne manages to say she never wore a mask.
For more traditional EC-style ghastliness, your best bet is reading the comic. It’s wickedly sad. For something less conventional, as far as Tales from the Crypt goes, the role-reversing adaptation is worth watching. It’s not the best this show had to offer, although Malone’s visual style, plus the sexual abandon, does set the episode apart. If nothing else, “Only Skin Deep” leaves an impression that, even years later, shows no signs of fading.
Season Six of Tales from the Crypt can be streamed on Shudder, starting on June 5.
Tales from Tales from the Crypt celebrates the show’s Shudder premiere by singling out one episode from each season. So don’t even think about changing that dial, boys and ghouls. More spot-“frights” are to come.
Carl discovers Molly’s collection of human ‘masks’ in the Tales from the Crypt episode, “Only Skin Deep”.
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