For audiences, this is either a selling feature…or a warning.

How Far Does The Dark Go? chronicles the tumultuous relationship between alluring female vampire Evienne (Chloe Caroll) and human nurse Grace (Anna Hindman). The latter is abducted by Evienne and held prisoner in order to care for Evienne’s cancer-stricken human son, Henry (Robert Picardo), but over the course of several Stockholm Syndrome-y months, Grace begins to develop feelings for her captor.

Naturally things build into an intense physical relationship that involves sexy dreams, lingerie, bloody bubble baths, and unconventional fluid exchanges. Questions linger, though: has Grace simply been glamoured into falling for Evienne? Is the vampire truly a monster, as Henry suggests, or does she have any humanity left? And is Grace more susceptible because of her morphine addiction?

Several of these questions, as well as the vampire lore that Fonté develops (or borrows from other texts such as the aforementioned works by Tony Scott, Jean Rollins, as well as the physical movements of vampires from True Blood) are the film’s most intriguing aspects. Alas How Far Does The Dark Go? is far less interested in its narrative than in its vibe, which often feels at odds with the story and characters.

Clocking in at nearly an hour and forty-minutes, the film is best understood as a sexy, campy mixtape rather than a feature film. Fonté eschews a conventional score in favour of innumerable generic pop songs that play in the background of nearly every scene; occasionally the lyrics underline the content of what is happening on screen or helps the film maintain a certain energy, but just as often the soundtrack pulls focus.

If songs were used less frequently and more strategically – say, to accompany the transitions or a montage – they would be effective, but very quickly the music becomes a source of frustration. At a certain point it seems like the songs are Fonté’s main focus and the constant jukebox shifts are so noticeable that it is difficult not to count the sheer number of them (I stopped when I hit 10+ in the first forty minutes).

Ultimately How Far Does The Dark Go? is more interested in creating a mood than developing its story or characters. Among the cast, Picardo fares best as a man who is suspicious of his mother and just wants to die. Several of his conversations with Grace have genuine pathos, which helps to ground her uncertainty about the feelings she’s developing for Evienne. But while both Hindman and Caroll have their dramatic moments, neither lead is well fleshed out and their actions feel unconvincing, particularly in the accelerated climax when each woman’s motivation changes from scene to scene based on the needs of the plot.*

*This is especially true of Grace’s addiction storyline, which reappears sporadically (usually when Evienne needs to be drugged).

One aspect that works well is the physical connection between the women (credit intimacy coordinator Irmingard Mayer because there’s a lot of sex and nudity in the final product). How Far Does The Dark Go? is very sex-positive and the film’s unapologetic queerness has the same indie punk spirit as something like 2019’s Bit. It’s in these moments that The Hunger‘s notorious sex scene and the sheer costumes (and scythe!) of Rollins’ work are clearly being acknowledged.

Fonté is most successful when the film mixes lurid melodrama, lesbian sexuality, and late night exploitation film. This includes grindhouse transitions such as scratches, missing frames and a particularly inspired moment when the film quite literally burns up. While these technically playful aspects call attention to themselves in a similar fashion as the music, their judicious use makes them more enjoyable.

How Far Does The Dark Go? also includes humour and camp, though this is element is more mixed. Take the moment after Evienne slaughters a victim and the woman’s gum falls out of her mouth into a pool of blood. That’s chuckle-worthy. There’s an extended flashback in which Evienne and her old vampire girlfriend Tempest (Samantha Rothermel) slaughter a prissy women’s book club. That’s quite amusing.

But then there is supporting character Dayanara (Telita Perry), a Black vampire slayer who appears out of the blue and randomly inserts herself in a handful of scenes without explanation or backstory. Dayanara is awkwardly shoe-horned into the film (often to its detriment) and the character’s oft-repeated “slayer (not hunter)” joke doesn’t work. This supporting role feels like one element too many in a film that already needed some pruning and refining.

Overall How Far Does The Dark Go? works best as a collection of sexy music videos. There are moments of inspiration, but ultimately the film doesn’t hold together as a full-length film.

How Far Does The Dark Go? had its world premiere at the Queer Screams Film Festival.

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Writer/Director Bears Rebecca Fonte‘s How Far Does the Dark Go? makes its world premiere this weekend at the Queer Screams Film Festival.

Chloe Carroll, Anna Hindman, Sam Rothermel, Robert Picardo, Telita Perry, Jim Schubin, and Kim Wong star.

In the film, “Grace’s life has been a series of disappointments. Addicted to morphine, the nurse (Anna Hindman) doesn’t have much reason to fight back when Evienne (Chloe Carroll), a vampire, kidnaps her. Deep below Philadelphia, Evienne has preyed on the city for eighty years from a series of forgotten subway tunnels. Now, with her still-human son Henry (Robert Picardo) dying of cancer, Evienne has nowhere to turn for help but from the innocents who are normally nothing more than dinner. Grace and Evienne develop a strange bond that caring for the same person creates, or is the vampire just beguiling the nurse, twisting reality, and lowering her inhibitions?

“However, more than one vampire curses the streets of Philadelphia. Evienne’s spurned ex-girlfriend Tempest (Sam Rothermel) has returned full of bloodlust and vengeance and wants nothing more than to draw Evienne away from what little humanity she has left. As Evienne ushers Grace into her secret life as the world’s apex predator, the mounting bone-dry body count soon draws the pursuit of Dayanara (Telita Perry), vigilante vampire slayer. But does Grace even want to be rescued? The undead life offers her more control than she could ever attain as a human but her patient, who has studied his mother his whole life, begs Grace not to become just like her, a monster.”

Watch the new teaser below, which pays tribute to films like Jean Rolin’s Fascination with its imagery.

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The Howling is a far cry from 1933’s The Werewolf of Paris, the Guy Endore-penned novel that many consider to be the Dracula of werewolf literature. Brandner’s book is horror pulp through and through. Even still, The Howling helped kick off a new spate of werewolf fiction; not long after Brandner enthralled readers with his tale of hirsute horrors, authors like Whitley Strieber (The Wolfen) and Thomas Tessier (The Nightwalker) unleashed their own particular spins on lycanthropy. 

The differences between the novel and film are detected early on as Piranha and Alligator scribe John Sayles overhauled the very reason why The Howling’s protagonist ventured into werewolf territory in the first place. In Brandner’s opening, Karyn Beatty is not only raped in her own Los Angeles apartment, her attacker, an intruding handyman named Max Quist, caused her to miscarry. Meanwhile, in Dante’s version, Dee Wallace’s Karen White is a well-recognized L.A. TV reporter who, unlike that homemaker whose domestic sanctuary and body were violated at random, arranged her brush with death. That encounter with serial killer Eddie Quist (Robert Picardo), the work of a police sting, was both nail-biting and life-altering.

Karen wasn’t assaulted in the same way as her literary counterpart, but she still developed a case of PTSD after her perilous rendezvous with Eddie Quist. There in a shadowy backroom at one of the city’s many seedy porn shops, Karen was subjected to a bona fide snuff film. The images of sexual violence seared into her psyche as much as that visceral werewolf transformation shown later. This seasoned reporter had witnessed a fair share of death in her line of work, yet that reel of humanity at its most depraved and evil, along with the strong possibility of dying herself, was the last straw. And unlike most people, Karen’s breakdown was in public, not private — on live television and for the world to see, Karen showed everyone just how much she was struggling.

In Brandner’s novel, the characters’ hairy destination was Drago, an isolated mountain backwater in Northern California. Werewolves indeed lived there, but unlike The Colony in Sayles’ script and Dante’s film, the monsters of Drago weren’t actively conducting a grand conspiracy. They also didn’t give off a cult vibe, despite Brandner proposing these werewolves were servants of the Devil. No, their neck of the woods just happened to be so obscure that general society was fine without ever knowing about Drago, much less wanting to visit. As for The Colony, this rural resort came at the recommendation of Karen’s therapist, Dr. Waggner (Patrick Macnee). That suggestion for Karen’s sabbatical is as precise as it is ominous. The Colony, as it turned out, was covering its tracks, whereas Karyn and her husband Roy simply picked the worst possible place to rest and recuperate.

Dante and Sayles didn’t entirely throw away Brandner’s blueprint, however, they did make plenty of changes, including an ending not found in the text. Beginning with the cast, Karen and her husband Bill (Christopher Stone) were eventually joined by Karen’s work colleagues, Chris (Dennis Dugan) and Terri (Belinda Balaski), to whom the film passed off the investigation scenes so that Wallace’s Karen could remain in the dark about The Colony’s secret. This Chris doesn’t thoroughly resemble his novel form, but he did retain the heroic sensibility that made him come to Karen’s rescue in the end. Terri, much to the delight of werewolf fans everywhere, went out in terrifying fashion; she lost a long and tense battle with her shaggy stalker. Terri is, essentially, a reimagining of Karyn’s confidante in the book, a former Carmelite nun named Inez who taught in the next town over. As for Dr. Waggner, he’s a more villainous reworking of Dr. Volkmann, Drago’s one and only doctor, and Karyn’s friend until the fur started to fly.

In something of an understatement, Brandner’s novel is notable for its sexual element. It was on brand for a ‘70s horror paperback to be graphic and verbose in its descriptions of sex. And Brandner’s enthusiasm was most obvious whenever it came time for Karyn’s hubby to get down and dirty with local Drago shopkeeper Marcia Lura (Marsha Quist in the film). Their romps in the woods eat up a good few pages and include lurid lines like “no orifice of the body went unexplored” and “his erection thrust forward like a lance.” Dante’s film kept the tryst intact, yet it lacks the erotic abandon in the source material. With the emphasis on overt dread and humor, and the design and execution of the werewolves themselves, Bill’s liaison with Marsha feels overshadowed. Nevertheless, Brandner was quite taken with Elisabeth Brooks’ casting as the lusty Miss Quist and, as expected, he approved of that cinematic coitus.

In the time leading up to The Howling’s original release, horror hounds were foaming at the mouth after hearing Dante’s film housed a complete and uninterrupted werewolf transformation. Rumor had it, according to Fangoria, that the man-to-werewolf sequence was done “totally on screen, and with no fades, cuts, dissolves or opticals.” As Howling lovers now know, there were, in fact, cuts in Eddie Quist’s metamorphosis, but the set piece is no less impressive for both the times and now. That’s one area where the novel pales in comparison. Brandner, at least for the first two entries in his trilogy, described the werewolves as actual wolves, albeit larger-than-usual ones, before ultimately switching over to the creatures’ hybrid look from the film side. It’s understandable that Dante’s focus on the monsters’ special effects and carnage, courtesy of makeup wiz Rob Bottin, gives him the edge over Brandner, whose account of his own werewolves aren’t even fantastical in appearance.

A good deal of Brandner’s novel was either altered or omitted in the ’81 film, however, Howling IV: The Original Nightmare (1988) is a surprisingly more faithful adaptation. Sad to say, this straight-to-video and standalone story is marred by a glut of shortcomings; from acting to production values, this South Africa-shot entry is exceptionally poor in most respects. Even a decent and detailed but also sorely underused werewolf suit can’t make up for everything else.

Brandner’s The Howling was the ideal starting material for a horror film — and, perhaps in a different timeline, franchise — and Joe Dante, John Sayles, and everyone else involved in this werewolf classic worked wonders with their relatively more straightforward inspiration. They proved just how much the terror and intrigue of werewolves are often better experienced on screen than on paper.

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Surge of Power: Revenge of the Sequel will open January 5th in Los Angeles, expand to New York on January 19 and continue nationwide.

Creator Vincent J. Roth returns to the cape-clad title role of Surge, cinema’s first out gay superhero. Roth is joined by a star-studded cast representing the forces of good and evil including Star Trek alums Nichelle Nichols and Robert Picardo, comedian Bruce Vilanch, SuperFriends! Shannon Farnon, Academy Award nominee Eric Roberts, The Exorcist’s Linda Blair, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century star Gil Gerard and the original Incredible Hulk Lou Ferrigno. The award-winning film has screened at festivals and conventions across the globe, taking home prizes for Best Comedy, Best Villain, Best Special Effects and Most Inspirational Lead Character.

Surge’s nemesis, the Metal Master, is out of jail and trying to reconcile with his estranged parents (Blair, Gerard) and tempted to continue a life of crime by Augur (Roberts), archnemesis of the wise Omen (Nichols, Picardo). Augur sends Metal Master to Las Vegas for mysterious crystals. Needing more crime-fighting help, Surge activates the artificial intelligence in the Surgemobile (Vilanch, Farnon). Augur emerges from the shadows back in Big City, causing Omen to step into the fray, which alerts The Council, a supervillain cabal bent on world domination. Facing more enemies than ever before, Surge must do whatever it takes to save mankind.

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Mason Murphy (Ray Quiroga) has just completed renovations on the old Mayhew mansion in River Ridge, Iowa. In celebration, Murphy is hosting a lunar eclipse party at his new digs. The old mansion has had a spotty past, including the disappearance of its original owner in 1926. Things come to a head when young partygoer Samantha (Sarah Alami) casts a spell to summon her dead boyfriend, but instead results in unleashing evil upon the mansion.

The obvious pluses to this film are seeing Gary Busey and Robert Picardo, but also the last appearance of silent screen legend Carla Laemmle in a cameo at the film’s end. Ms. Laemmle’s appearance is nothing to write home about, but given that she was 104 at the time, it’s pretty impressive. Back to Busey, he did try to make things bearable in his limited time on screen (as did Picardo), but there’s only so much you can do with the terrible dialogue they were given.

Busey and Picardo weren’t the only ones to have wretched dialogue. Practically the whole cast had to spit out awkward lines. It was made worse by horrible acting. Alami’s enthusiasm (or lack thereof) at seeing her dead boyfriend again after she summons him is about as far away from seeming genuine as you could get. Quiroga’s delivery of “a slack-jawed idiot” and attempts to appear angry are unintentionally hilarious. One partygoer’s overreaction to seeing the lunar eclipse is to run away screaming “It’s not real!” Granted, it was a blood moon, but come on! I get that Mansion of Blood is supposed to be a horror-comedy, but the quality of the humour is along the same lines as making armpit farts when you’re 30. In front of your parents. At a funeral.

The real joke of this film is its writing. Donahue seems to have thrown everything at the wall to see if it stuck. Murder, midgets, zombies and vampires have been tossed in here in a desperate attempt to make it seem like the film was on its game. Unfortunately, quantity doesn’t equal quality. Tons of characters are introduced, go nowhere other than to be eyecandy in hot tubs, or end up in lame plotlines that involve offing another person, or “hilarious” moments that were poorly executed ripoffs from other films. At least, I think the confrontation between two inheritors of the Mayhew estate where they inch towards potential weapons to club the other was ripped off from another film. Or it was just stupid.

Yeah, let’s go with that.

If the writing in the film is a joke, then the effects might as well be considered the setup. Lame greenscreen effects to show ghosts, even lamer Adobe After Effects work to fake steam from boiling water, and monster costumes that looked like they were from your city’s crappy costume rental place. Seriously, how is wearing a black leotard with a black latex mask, bat ears and cape scary? Hiding the zombies in darkness was probably a smart move. Showing the zombies slowly surrounding a victim and throwing in sounds of them eating the victim? Not so smart. Throw in more lazy editing and camerawork, and finish things off with a lame ending, and congrats, you’ve wasted 90 minutes on this film.

Perhaps getting fired from Mansion of Blood was Busey’s plan all along? Given how the final film turned out, I wouldn’t be surprised. Terrible from the start, this is less Scary Movie in terms of entertainment, and more in terms of Scary Movie 5. It’s not funny, the acting and writing are atrocious, and the film’s saving grace is seeing Robert Picardo and Gary Busey trying to avoid breaking down in tears over their decision to appear in this dreck. See Predator 2 or The Howling if you’re desperate to see those two in horror. Maybe even Gingerdead Man for Busey if you’re desperate. Avoid Mansion of Blood like a dead skunk in the middle of the road.

Video/Audio:

Presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, the quality of the picture fits the film’s low budget. Colours are okay, but the poor lighting in several scenes (notably the shots intended to be daylight) ends up having details swallowed by blackness. There are also some aliasing issues that creep up in some shots, resulting in jagged details. The CGI special effects look cheap, and are SyFy quality, at best.

The Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo track is also typical low budget. Dialogue is inconsistent, sometimes being too quiet and muffled, and often sounds flat. As a result, it’s either the ambient effects that make it difficult to hear, or it’s the soundtrack. Acceptable, but not the greatest.

Supplements:

The only extra included is the film’s trailer. No Buseyisms, unfortunately.

Mansion Of Blood is available now on DVD courtesy of MVD Visual.

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