Editorials
‘The Guyver’ is Still a Fun Practical Effects Showcase 30 Years Later
Manga Bio-Booster Armor Guyver injected a wild science fiction twist to the superhero subgenre. It introduced a biomechanical suit of armor that enhanced its host’s abilities that came in handy during the onslaught of alien battles. Yoshiki Takaya’s manga series’s enduring popularity, which began publication in 1985, naturally inspired multiple anime series adaptations. However, when it came to producing a live-action take on the comics, Japanese company Shochiku Films wanted a more Hollywood-style adaptation. They teamed up with producer Brian Yuzna (Society) and special makeup effects-heavy hitters Screaming Mad George and Steven Wang (Predator, The Monster Squad) as co-directors.
It’s no surprise then that the result, released on March 18, 1991, is a practical effects showcase.
The Guyver opens with a text crawl that explains the aliens once came to Earth to create the ultimate organic weapon. They created humankind, then experimented with their DNA, planting a gene that would allow humans to transform into monstrous soldiers- Zoanoids. Then, a scientist steals a device, the Guyver, from Chronos corporation. Henchmen slaughter the scientist before he gets too far, but they’re unable to locate where he hid the device. His daughter, Mizuki (Vivian Wu), becomes the next target, but she’s protected by Detective Max Reed (Mark Hamill) and boyfriend Sean Barker (Jack Armstrong). Sean finds and unwittingly triggers the Guyver, which comes in handy when the Chronos president, Fulton Balcus (David Gale), sends a horde of creatures after them.
With Yuzna, Screaming Mad George, and Wang steering this ship, perhaps the most surprising part about The Guyver is its campier, more lighthearted approach to the material. Instead of a gory, R-rated creature feature more in line with the darker source material, it’s a PG-13 cartoon turned live-action. That alone divided audiences, fans of the original series, and fans familiar with Yuzna’s brand of gory mayhem. What’s not so surprising, at least in hindsight, is how this live-action adaptation followed hot on the heels of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ massive success. It, too, was a niche comic-book adaptation that offered a more kid-friendly approach to an otherwise very gritty and adult comic book series. Taking a relatively obscure- for its time- property and making it more widely accessible makes sense, as does the attempt to capture Ninja Turtles viewers, even if it doesn’t always work.
While tone and humor can distract, The Guyver succeeds as a practical creature-driven spectacle. Having a minimal budget would hinder many from tackling such a special effects-heavy production, but Screaming Mad George and Steven Wang had already built an impressive career as special makeup effects artists before taking on their directorial feature debut. Both were well versed in creative problem solving and had a keen eye for knowing how to utilize the creature effects effectively. Zoanoids using martial arts in their battles added a layer of difficulty to an already ambitious effort- think stunt people maneuvering in heavy rubber suits. Two directors well-versed in creature effects meant a divide and conquer approach; Wang handled most of the fights while Mad George tackled the more complex effects sequences.
The final showdown, a boss fight between the Guyver and a transformed Zoaloard Balcus, might offer the biggest battle in terms of scale. But the crowning achievement in creature work arguably belongs to the gruesome metamorphosis of Max Reed into an insect-like Zoanoid. After being freed from a chamber far too soon, Reed painfully turns as his body rejects the mutation. It’s an intricate scene that meant creating and operating multiple stages of the transformation, from prosthetics to a fully articulated mechanized puppet. The slimy bug overtaking Reed’s once human body has all the hallmarks of Mad George’s usual brand of slimy, gross-out effects that made films like Society and the cockroach scene in A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master so memorable.
Thirty years later, The Guyver is a time capsule movie. Only in the early ’90s would a monster henchman, Jimmie Walker’s Striker, taunt his opponent with a rap. Even the mugging scene that triggers Sean’s connection with the Guyver induces giggle-fits thanks to its corny staging. With a cast that also includes Michael Berryman and Jeffrey Combs, creating a Re-Animator reunion with Gale, The Guyver demonstrates what happens when you put many horror stalwarts in charge of a PG-13 superhero origin story. It’s silly fun that’s very of its time, but the insane creature effects have aged remarkably well.
Wang returned to helm the sequel, which embraced the R-rating and became more regarded critically as a result. Still, The Guyver offers a dream team-up between two special makeup effects titans, and it delivers on the monster mayhem that could still serve as fun gateway horror today.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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