For the last four years, Alamo Drafthouse programmer Zack Carlson has hosted a late-night horror movie celebration called Terror Tuesday and if you are a lover of horror, both esoterically brilliantly and obscurely awful, this night was invented just for you. The Terror Tuesday Report will dissect the movie shown as well as provide a barometer for the audience's reaction; as many of these films demand to be seen with an audience, this proves a vital component to the evening.

This week's film: Neon Maniacs, directed by Joseph Mangine, 1986


The Film

Neon Maniacs is the true story of a group of mutant killers that terrorized San Francisco in the mid 80's. Well, except it's not true at all. Our central characters are an assortment of high school all-stars and rejects who must band together to fight back the evil that lives in the Golden Gate bridge. Natalie is a drop-dead gorgeous virgin who survives a vicious attack only to be suspected as the murderer. Steven is a textbook loser who, apart from hoping his musical group triumphs at the battle-of-the-bands, is consumed by thoughts of Natalie. Finally, we have horror movie buff Paula who, in the midst of shooting her latest vampire film, discovers the nest of the mutant horde. The cops don't believe them, even as scores of teens turn up missing with puddles of viscous goo providing the sole piece of evidence.

Reviewing a film like Neon Maniacs is difficult. It isn't a matter of the quality necessarily; bad movies have been the bread and butter of my writing career. The problem is the general level of apathy by cinematographer-turned-director Joseph Mangine. He has some impressive credits under his belt as a cinematographer, but he was never again allowed to direct after the enormous, stinky bomb that was Neon Maniacs. Mangine cares little if you like a single character in this film, and his approach to exposition could most aptly be characterized as negligent. But the one admirable quality he does possess is a dog-like obedience to shooting schedules. He is so disciplined on this aspect of filmmaking that he will prematurely end a film in order to come in on schedule. The ending of Neon Maniacs is only an ending in so much as the credits roll directly thereafter. Nothing is resolved, nothing is explained, and if you happened to be taking a swig of your beer during the weird final exchange between our characters, you would have entirely missed it.

This is clearly a movie born not of a theme, or a particular concept, but of a costume shop explosion. It was as if a producer walked into one of those ephemeral, Gypsy-like Halloween stores, took a look around at the available costumes on Oct 30th, and thought, "we can make a movie out of this!" Don't get me wrong, the reason I am so jazzed about this movie is the balls-out insanity and bold lack of congruity to these costumes. The film introduces the various flavors of monsters with an inexplicable deck of playing cards featuring their likenesses; a Garbage Pail Kids movie for people that don't like Garbage Pail Kids but like the idea of them. Apparently the zombie holocaust struck during the world's strangest career fair where mutants were bred of people investigating the possibility of becoming a surgeon, a soldier, or a...samurai warrior. I was generally impressed with the makeup on the maniacs but the bizarre combinations are the heart of the over-the-top entertainment value.

There is a story device in Neon Maniacs that still baffles me. Basically, the half-pint horror addict, using a video camera the size of a U-Haul, discovers that these beastly maniacs do have an Achilles heel. Is it daylight? That would make sense considering they only come out at night! Or how about silver? Hard to come by, would make for a challenging showdown. Nope, it's plain, ordinary water. So let me get this straight, Mr. "screenwriter," you have a vicious cadre of evil monsters that, despite their intimidating presence, can be beaten back by a lawn sprinkler? Well at least they didn't set up shop in the bay area where it rains all the time--oh wait, that's exactly what they did! Evel Knievel couldn't jump this plot hole on a rocket bike.

The Reaction

Neon Maniacs provides exactly the right catalyst for horrorphile fervor. It gives us the questionable quality for which we either harbor nostalgic fondness or ironic appreciation. It gives us outlandishly static characters and exaggerated monsters to loathe and adore respectively. But the complex levels of ineptitude in Neon Maniacs demand visual explanation as no words could accurately do justice to the failings. This film was perfectly introduced and transitioned by the microphone problems facing our host Zack Carlson. The effect was so perfectly complementary that many in the audience suspected it was planned, but it was merely evil serendipity.