Editorials
‘Splinter’ – This Practical Effects Creature Feature Has Only Gotten Better With Age
By the time Toby Wilkins’ 2008 film Splinter first arrived on the scene — a limited theatrical premiere on Halloween — zombies were everywhere. Yet the first-time director managed to rework the already overused concept into something fresh, not to mention plain creepy. And with its preference for practical effects wizardry, Splinter stood out from its fellow high-concept horrors made on a low budget.
Splinter references the grandfather of cinematic zombies, George A. Romero’s iconic Night of the Living Dead, in a number of ways, apart from the most obvious. Indeed the characters are holed up and fighting for their lives against the walking dead, although in this case, an isolated gas station rather than a farmhouse serves as their refuge. Other films tend to use these pitstops as we do in real life; they are temporary detours before heading off for a proper destination. Instead the director and screenwriters (Kai Barry, Ian Shorr) bring the journey to a screeching halt, causing their story to have an even more considerable purgatory quality to it. And bit by bit, Death is making its way inside.
One of the more gratifying film situations comes from those interactions between characters who have never met before, but they are now forced to endure one another’s company. Splinter, again, is inspired by from the past here — and not just from Romero. The two protagonists, couple Polly and Seth (Jill Wagner, Paulo Costanzo), are being lovey-dovey out in the woods before a tent snafu requires indoor lodging. And before they can reach a motel — final destinations are hard to come by in this film — they cross paths with another couple: outlaws Dennis and Lacey (Shea Whigham, Rachel Kerbs).
Image: Seth (Paulo Costanzo) holds a gun up to the monster in Splinter.
Splinter moves briskly, which inhibits any substantial downtime with the characters. That fast pace keeps us engaged and the story focused, but anyone wanting meatier heroes and villains may be left wanting. What we do have here in terms of character writing, however, is not entirely anemic. When contrasting these two couples, the film offers a curious glance at relationship dynamics in the genre.
Polly and Seth are not like the usual pairings in horror; Wagner is the impulsive outdoorsy type who comes across as certain of herself, whereas Costanzo is passive, bookwise, and a bit insecure. The latter is also less outwardly emotional, which makes Seth seem uncaring. Of course, that’s the incorrect reading, seeing as Seth shows plenty of concern for everyone. Even for the ex-con waving a gun in his face. That sensitivity doesn’t end with Seth either; like the contagion here, his compassion eventually spreads to his girlfriend and their captor.
The cast may be small in numbers, but it’s not small in quality. Costanzo, whose career up to that point was rooted more so in comedy, found himself in a darker role that benefited from his humorous and unassuming presence. Pleasingly, Splinter doesn’t change Seth into a macho type after enduring intimidation from Dennis and terror from the creature. The writing shows Seth to be the same as before, only now he’s aware of and confident in his abilities. Meanwhile, Wagner’s character is the most approachable of the two at first; she’s beautiful, friendly, and straightforward. Later though, Polly is even more accessible as a person once her vulnerability emerges in the face of death and horror, all without her taking a backseat to the men. As for the story’s antagonist turned antihero, Dennis enjoys the most seismic as well as grueling transformation in the film. His humanity starts to come out as his body breaks down.
Image: Jill Wagner Shea Whigham in Splinter (2008).
In an interview with Fangoria, Wilkins called Splinter another example of the “classic infection scenario.” He went on to say, “What films like Dawn of the Dead and 28 Days Later take one step toward is the idea that something’s going to get you but not necessarily kill you.” The director took things even further by having his infection be “worse than death.” It’s more of the bone-breaking and agonizing flavor of body horror we have seen before, especially from the 2000s era, yet now there is the additional aspect of characters being conscious of their affliction and trying to fight it off. That futile battle over complete control is usually brief, but on occasion, a host like Dennis doesn’t go down without a fight.
David Michael Maurer’s frenetic editing prevents the camera from ever lingering too long on the monster’s form or handiwork; this freak of nature is so hideous and rotten it can’t be seen in full view. You might even say the human mind could only handle seeing its image in fragments. Creature-feature fans understandably eat up this film’s fungal foe, which was unique for the time. As an imaginary anomaly from the real world, this spiny and chimeric curiosity is a new and more plausible spin on zombism. Quantum Creation FX turned Wilkins’ ghastly design into a flailing nightmare that still feels convincing all these years later.
Splinter has found an audience over the years thanks to home video and streaming, but it’s also slick-looking and crowd-pleasing enough for the big screen. The heavy use of grotesque practical effects, along with a tight and no-fluff script, makes revisits stressful yet satisfying. This crawly film has only gotten better with age, especially now when handmade movie monsters are becoming more and more rare to see.
Image: Polly (Jill Wagner) and Dennis (Shea Whigham) take a peek outside in Splinter.
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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