Editorials
Looking Back on ‘8MM’ – The Horror Masterpiece That Almost Was
As the world becomes increasingly desensitized to extreme media, it’s easy to imagine unsimulated death as the disturbing final frontier of both horror and pornography. While there has never been a confirmed case of murder-on-tape being intentionally distributed for commercial purposes, the idea of snuff films has captured the imagination of writers and filmmakers for decades now. Several scary movies have attempted to explore this terrifying concept, with varying degrees of success, but the most notable of these might just be Joel Schumacher‘s controversial 8MM, a flawed but memorable thriller that comes frustratingly close to being a horror masterpiece.
Revealing the dark intersection where art, sex and death meet, 8MM was originally conceived by critically acclaimed screenwriter Andrew Kevin Walker as a bleak neo-noir/horror hybrid. Walker was already in demand after having written David Fincher’s Seven, so it’s no surprise that the studio paid a whopping $1.75 million for the script to 8MM. While the producers were convinced that they had a certified hit on their hands, they also suspected that the story’s graphic content might alienate their target demographic, and that’s where the trouble began.
The studio inevitably asked Walker to tone down the script’s heavy subject matter, but when Schumacher came onboard the project the writer believed that the two of them could fight the higher-ups like he had previously done with Fincher on Seven. Unfortunately, Schumacher agreed that Walker’s dreary vision was way too dark for general audiences and chose to rewrite some of the movie alongside Nicholas Kazan.
This led to a public falling out between the writer and director, with Walker abandoning the set and disowning the completed film, claiming that they had butchered his screenplay. The original script is actually available online, and while the plot changes aren’t quite as drastic as the writer suggests, there is a pretty big difference in tone. According to Walker, “the problem was that it wasn’t sustaining the misery or suspense as much,” which led to a more conventional end product.
While it’s easy to judge Schumacher for siding with the studio (especially once it became popular to criticize him after Batman & Robin and The Phantom of the Opera), you have to remember that he had previously given us classics like The Lost Boys and Falling Down, and wasn’t necessarily trying to sabotage Walker’s story. At the end of the day, the director was justifiably concerned about the film not finding an audience due its intended portrayal of gore, sexual assault and even pedophilia.

The worst kind of video nasty.
Naturally, production went on regardless of the behind-the-scenes drama, with Nicolas Cage personally expressing interest in the project, resulting in a much larger budget. Joaquin Phoenix was also brought in to co-star, as well as Peter Stormare and even James Gandolfini. While the completed film only hints at the depravity behind Walker’s original story, the excellent cast and stylish direction make 8MM a delightfully eerie detective story that’ll likely leave you feeling dirty once the credits roll.
If you haven’t seen the movie, Nicolas Cage stars as Tom Welles, a private eye hired by a wealthy widow to discover if the alleged snuff film in her late husband’s collection is the real deal. The ensuing investigation leads Welles all the way to Hollywood, where he reluctantly partners with porn-store clerk Max California (Joaquin Phoenix) in order track down the origins of the mysterious film. Falling down a perverted rabbit hole, the duo eventually uncovers a seedy underworld of extreme pornography, misguided artists and violent sadists.
Even in its toned-down form, 8MM boasts quite a few legitimately chilling moments. From the near-casual presentation of deeply unsettling categories of illegal porno (everything from “cats” to “kids”) to the final reveal about who produced the mysterious snuff film and why, the movie is at its best when exploring the negative impact of extreme media on the human psyche, ultimately suggesting that evil is much closer to home than you might think.
The experience is made even more compelling by Cage’s performance as a decent man slowly descending into madness, with his character becoming obsessed with this horrific case. As the investigation intensifies, Welles goes from extreme disgust at the mere idea of entering a porn shop to thoroughly combing through hours of depraved footage in an attempt to find evidence, with Cage doing his best to convey the character’s subtle transformation into a desensitized husk of a human being.
The rest of the cast is also great, with Phoenix’s charming portrayal of Max California being one of the highlights of the film. His budding friendship with Welles contrasts with the constant degeneracy surrounding them, especially when you meet characters like Stormare’s Dino Velvet, a scene-chewing pornographer with delusions of grandeur. James Gandolfini and Amy Morton are also excellent additions to the ensemble, and there’s even a surprising appearance by a young Norman Reedus.

Not your average standoff.
Personally, I think Chris Bauer really stands out in one of the film’s most haunting moments, as we discover that despite our monstrous expectations, the sadistic actor/murderer “Machine” is just an ordinary man underneath the spooky leather outfit. Surprisingly enough, this scene wasn’t featured in the original screenplay, making it one of Schumacher and Kazan’s greatest contributions to the story.
These believable elements make 8MM stand out as an exploration of the banality of evil instead of a run-of-the-mill thriller. The final reveal that the snuff film wasn’t actually part of some grand conspiracy is especially poignant, with the case turning out to be another example of bored rich people doing evil things just because they could. Not only is this the most realistic answer to Welles’ investigation, but it also has the most disturbing implications, as we’re aware that something like this could very well happen in the real world, if it hasn’t already.
Of course, the film has its fair share of flaws, especially during the weirdly-paced second act that relies on disappointingly conventional car chases and shoot-outs to keep things moving. A lot of this seems out of place considering the horrific setup that came before, and I feel like the movie would have benefited from a consistently darker tone. Visually, the film does a good job of establishing this grimy underworld, but it’s clear that Schumacher was approaching the material from a less-horrific point of view.
Regardless, 8MM was ultimately a box-office success, winning over most audiences even if professional critics weren’t all that impressed. Several reviews actually suggested that the production was just a David Fincher away from being a good movie, claiming that Schumacher didn’t really get the material and that the rewrites destroyed the final product. I don’t necessarily agree, as a lot of the film’s issues were already present in the original script, and Schumacher added a lot of flare to the story, as well as my favorite scene. That being said, I do think that a darker tone and a quicker pace would have led 8MM to being remembered as a horror masterpiece alongside hits like Walker’s own Seven or even The Silence of the Lambs.
Walker has said that he’s still waiting for a remake to faithfully adapt his original take on the story, and while I’d absolutely love to see it produced as either a 90s period piece or an updated digital thriller, I think Schumacher’s 8MM is an underappreciated movie that comes frustratingly close to greatness. It may drag in a few scenes and it doesn’t quite live up to its horrific ideas, but there’s an undeniable sense of dread accompanying Welles’ investigation that makes this a hellish ride still worth taking today.
Editorials
Revisiting ‘Subspecies’: The Gothic Horror Gem That Created an Unforgettable Vampire
Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.
This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.
That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!
The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise

A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.
The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.
However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.
In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.
Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains

In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.
Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.
This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.
Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.
Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget

Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.
That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.
I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?
Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.
That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.
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