Editorials
19 Things We Learned from the ‘April Fool’s Day’ Commentary
Another year, another April Fool’s Day come and gone without a single funny prank online. The day has lost its luster since the advent of the internet, but happily, we’ll always have 1986’s pseudo-slasher classic, April Fool’s Day, to remember how fun it used to be.
Director Fred Walton is best known for his feature debut, 1979’s When a Stranger Calls, and he made a career built on low-key suspense tales for theatrical release and television. His best film, though, is undoubtedly April Fool’s Day. Part slasher, part mystery, all fun – the film is a delight, even on repeat viewings, as it’s an attractive, entertaining, and smartly crafted ride for fans of good times.
Now keep reading to see what I heard on the commentary for…
April Fool’s Day (1986)
Commentators: Film historians Howard S. Berger, Steve Mitchell, and Nathaniel Thompson
1. One of them recalls seeing the film in the theater and encountering “a certain anger in the audience” at the ending, as some people see it as a cheat. The consensus is that it was older viewers who were upset, while the youths actually liked the playful reveal.
2. There are conflicting reports as to the film’s origin. Some reports say writer Danilo Bach was shopping it around as a spec script, while others suggest that producer Frank Mancuso Jr. concocted the idea and then tasked Bach with writing it. Unrelated, but Bach also wrote the terrifically entertaining but severely underseen “90s erotic thriller” Escape Clause. Seek it out!
3. Mitchell says the slasher formula in the 1980s was to gather some attractive young people and then “watch them perish,” and he adds that he was part of it all as the co-writer of 1986’s Chopping Mall.
4. “It doesn’t rely on cutting, it relies on staging,” says Mitchell as a compliment towards Walton, who made this film because he was pretty much broke at the time.
5. It was filmed around Victoria, British Columbia, after earlier suggestions, including Martha’s Vineyard and Seattle, fell through.
6. The bit around the 18:45 mark sees characters taking a sex quiz from a magazine, and it was added on the day after Walton saw the cast members doing just that before filming began.
7. They compliment the film’s use of natural light, particularly with scenes overlooking the water towards dusk, and compare favorably to Mario Bava’s A Bay of Blood.
8. This is an ensemble film, but they all agree that Deborah Foreman is the de facto star here, seeing as she was still riding high off Valley Girl. She auditioned for the film and was dismissed early on, but she kept track of casting and re-auditioned for the same role. This time, though, she leaned into the subtleties of the character’s evil twin conceit and won everyone over.
9. They talk about Walton’s “mathematical use of long takes” when building to and forming scares, and they even suggest it was an influence on films like William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist III.
10. They give a shout out to Cinephile Video in Los Angeles, which has a director’s wall dedicated to all the big names you’d expect – and Walton, too. Asked why, the store owners said they just wanted to shake things up with a great director you just don’t expect to see represented as such.
11. The film is devoid of nudity, and while that seems odd for a slasher – and may have contributed to genre audiences being unhappy with it – it’s also fitting as the end of the ’80s marked a more chaste period for horror movies.
12. The well scene was filmed on a set in Los Angeles, and the water was apparently so “fetid” that Deborah Goodrich developed an ear infection from her time in it.
13. Walton uses his camera to ratchet up tension and claustrophobia, and they point out some examples around the 1:01:08 mark. Hal (Jay Baker) sits on the stairs, shot so that their shadows resemble prison bars, and the next shot is made through the metal bars of a bedframe.
14. “This is a movie void of primary colors except for reds,” they say, adding that the reds are used as subconscious nods towards doomed characters. Arch is wearing red before he’s caught in the trap, Hal is sitting on a red carpet, Nikki is wearing a red robe, etc.
15. The film originally had an extended ending that featured Buffy (Foreman) actually being murdered, but it didn’t make the final cut – it’s another fake out, instead. It did, however, make it into the film’s novelization by Jeff Rovin, as that was based on the script. The book currently runs about $100 on eBay, which is unfortunate for me and my bank account.
16. They praise the film’s deep blacks – shout out to both cinematographer Charles Minsky and the recent 4K release from KL Studio Classics – as being atypical. Thompson breaks down the difference between legitimate dark and “movie dark,” which is dark-ish but lit so viewers can see what’s happening.
17. The great Amy Steel wears primarily baggy clothing throughout, and a producer allegedly approached her during filming to ask if maybe she was gaining too much weight on the film. “Well,” she reportedly replied, “you hired this amazing caterer, so whose fault is that?” I would have added a hearty “fuck you” to the producer, too.
18. While some people may be put off by the entire fake out, as it basically means the film’s events are all reset to zero, the commentators see it as a positive. For one, it’s a nice change of pace from the genre norm of dead teens, and another points out that the actual finale allows for Nan (Leah Pinsent), a character who has zero fun throughout, to finally have a laugh and a smile. “Even though it’s not a horror movie in the conventional sense, we got the thrills, and it was fun to experience a fright.”
19. They draw an interesting contrast between the ’80s and now, suggesting that today’s horror movies “are just so serious” while they used to be fun, entertaining times designed to be enjoyed as part of an audience. It’s a generalization, obviously, but fans of ’80s horror know it to be true as the genre definitely had a looser, more entertaining vibe back then.
Quotes Without Context
“In the ’80s, that was the decade of the dead teenager movie.”
“The one thing that’s actually real in the film is the sexuality, and the violence is all gags. That’s the fake.”
“There’s such a salad of bodies there.”
“If this movie had been made by Roger Corman’s company, there would have already been three to four nude scenes.”
“If I was to see this at a famous 42nd Street grindhouse, I don’t think I could see the actors for the grain.”
Keep up with more horror commentary breakdowns here.
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.
You must be logged in to post a comment.