Color, 2006, 104 mins. 32 secs.
Directed by Sean S. Cunningham, Joe Dante, Monte Hellman, Ken Russell, John Gaeta
Starring Jayce Bartok, Henry Gibson, Lara Harris, Rachel Veltri, Scott Lowell, John Saxon, Tahmoh Penikett, Tygh Runyan, Amelia Cooke, Michèle-Barbara Pelletier
Deaf Crocodile (UHD & Blu-ray) (US R0/RA 4K/HD) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9), Lionsgate (DVD) (US R1 NTSC), Koch (DVD) (Germany R2 PAL) / WS (1.78:1) (16:9)
At attempt to revive the Amicus-style horror anthology in 2006 seemed like a unique proposition, especially given the genre's so-so state at the time as it was running on fumes from post-Scream slasher and J-horror remakes (with the occasional Saw sequel and imitation thrown in). In a sense this one (along with the simultaneous Masters of Horror) was ahead of the curve with its idea of recruiting veteran cult horror directors to contribute individual segments, something that became more common years later with The Theatre Bizarre, Tales of Halloween, the Creepshow TV series, and so on. This one also had the advantage of being written and produced (along with a slew of Japanese personnel) by Dennis Bartok, currently of Deaf Crocodile and at the time with the American Cinematheque which kept him in contact with directors who had fallen out of Hollywood favor by that point.
Of course, any anthology has to have a framing device (here helmed by Joe Dante complete with a fleeting Dick Miller cameo), and in this case it's set in the heart of Hollywood (apparently near where the Egyptian Theater is, which gets a tongue-in-cheek shout out) with tour guide Henry Gibson (The 'Burbs) leading a tram history of the Ultra Movie Studio that several tourists have gotten as prizes. After much pleading, they're allowed to take a rare visit inside the House of Horrors built for a famous horror film called Hysteria -- but then they find themselves stuck inside and have to tell a scary true story for a chance to escape. First up is "The Girl with the Golden Breasts," one of the last directorial efforts for the legendary Ken Russell who was no stranger to anthology contributions by this point. Here we get the story of aspiring actress Phoebe (Veltri), who's frustrated by being overlooked at casting calls and decides breast implants are the way to go. Her medical consultation leads to the suggestion of a new process that's so much better than silicone or other methods since it... well, uses organic material. However, the end result turns her sexual partner into a bloody mess as she realizes the horrific nature of what's been done to her. Then in "Jibaku" by Sean S. Cunningham, a trip to Japan for American couple Henry (Queer as Folk's Lowell) and Julia (Harris) turns nightmarish when an encounter with a dead body in a graveyard plunges her into the underworld. Seeking help from the locals, Henry decides to rescue her at his own peril. Monte Hellman takes the reins next for "Stanley's Girlfriend," told by John Saxon about a decades-old experience in which his younger self, Leo (Battlestar Galactica's Penikett), is a film director who falls for Nina (Species III's Cooke), the girlfriend of best friend and colleague Stanley (Runyan). Of course, being with her turns out to be a harsh bargain. Finally in "My Twin, the Worm," the only directorial effort for The Matrix's "bullet time" innovator John Gaeta, Martine (Pelletier) has a tapeworm at the same time she's pregnant with her daughter, Natalie, a symbiotic relationship that continues long after the birth itself with horrific results.
As with most horror anthologies, your mileage may vary from story to story with the occasionally iffy early CGI effects in a couple of spots likely tipping the scales for some viewers. Dante, Russell, and Cunningham come off the best here, and it's an often stylish film given its low budget with a few gruesome shocks here and there exactly where they're needed. Longtime pros Gibson and Saxon are always welcome and do fine work here, while the younger cast do well enough with the more veteran members like Lowell and Penikett (as well as the quite impressive Harris) bringing some welcome depth to their vignettes. The wraparound story is a fun one that works like a kind of Tinseltown variation on Vault of Horror, and overall it's the kind of diverting, quirky project that you'll likely enjoy if the roster of directors brings a smile to your face.
Though it received a handful of one-off screenings, Trapped Ashes didn't really get a theatrical release per se and ended up on DVD in 2008 from Lionsgate with far less fanfare than you'd expect from its contributors. After that it largely fell into neglect until being rejuvenated as a 4K UHD and Blu-ray package from Deaf Crocodile, with a choice between standard or limited deluxe editions (with the latter, limited to 1500 units, featuring a very nice slipcase designed by Hans Woody and an 80-page booklet with essays by Walter Chaw and Bartok, a reprint of Sean Dekker's article about the film for Fangoria, and a text Q&A with Bartok and producers Yuko Yoshikawa and Yoshifumi Hosoya. The film itself looks magnificent here with a vivid, highly detailed presentation barely hinted at on the earlier DVD, and an early name drop involving Mario Bava makes a lot more sense given how vivid the lighting looks now. The UHD in particular (with an occasionally eye-popping HDR-compatible Dolby Vision grade) makes for quite the viewing experience, with the 4K scan cited as being from a mixture of the original camera negative and an interpositive looking great throughout. The DTS-HD MA 5.1 English track is solid as well with modest but effective separation effects, and optional English SDH subtitles are provided; the authoring process was obviously a lot of fun as well since they did some humorous tinkering to both the opening legal disclaimer and the company logo.
The extras kick off with a new audio commentary by the always erudite and entertaining Stephen R. Bissette whose extensive pop culture and monster knowledge comes into play here as he points out the numerous actors and their backgrounds, genre connections including Amicus' Max Rosenberg, lots of trivia about the directors and their backgrounds, and more. One fascinating addition here is the expanded versions of two of the stories, a "director's cut" of Hellman's episode (28m20s) and the "original full-length cut" of Russell's (26m3s); both are presented in HD with their own credits. The Russell one is absolutely worth checking out as it features an outrageous final sequence jettisoned from the feature version that feels much more in keeping with Uncle Ken's sense of humor. Then you get five short making-of EPK-style videos (5m54s, 7m14s, 5m54s, 6m42s, 6m10s) devoted to each individual segment and the wraparound, with all the directors and main actors giving quick interview snippets about the project. "Hollywood Parasite: Hysteria in Trapped Ashes" (15m1s), a video essay by The Disc Connected's Ryan Verrill and Dr. Will Dodson, delivers exactly what the title promises, a linear dissection of how various forms of hysteria form a continuum throughout the stories in various forms manifesting within individuals and relationships. (You could also argue this has a common thematic link with the first V/H/S film made six years later, but that's another story.) Finally Bartok serves as a host for three video conference discussions looking back at the film: the first with Gaeta, actors Jayce Bartok (from the framing device), Lowell, and Lisi Tribble, Yoshikawa and Yoshifumi Hosoya, and cinematographer Zoran Popovic (78m12s); the second with Penikett and Runyan with production designer Robb Wilson King (88m43s) with Yoshikawa and Hosoya again; and finally with producer Mike Frislev (40m6s) of Nomadic Pictures. Everyone has positive memories of the experience and seems surprised how much time has passed since its creation, with lots of stories from the set popping up about wrangling the right directors for the stories, memories of the filmmakers, tricks to acting in and shooting an unorthodox horror story, and thoughts on its legacy now that other productions seem to have finally caught up.
Deaf Crocodile (Blu-ray)
Lionsgate (DVD)
Reviewed on November 21, 2024