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"Lots of people call their baby it." The original's harried dad (John P. Ryan) seeks atonement via mutant counseling, he's reintroduced crashing the baby shower of a pregnant Tucson couple (Kathleen Lloyd and Frederic Forrest). Destroy the monster or rescue it, the police death squad at the hospital is dispersed by clandestine activist-scientists with a delivery room in the back of their getaway truck. (The childbirth sequence is punctuated with a drive down a tunnel, naturellement.) The government agent (John Marley) has his own reasons for slaying the creatures, "I have a high regard for the human race, I want to see that it sticks around a little while longer." The fugitives, meanwhile, study them as "the next step forward in evolution," the twins kept in the underground laboratory are named Adam and Eve. "What the hell, it seemed like a good joke at the time." Larry Cohen misses nothing in this sequel, as droll and tragic as the first nightmare. The fanged brats are glimpsed in quick frames, their distorted POV shots contrast with the blurry vision of the doctor (Andrew Duggan) with shattered specs, their squalling is pervasive. The screeching bus from Tourneur's Cat People makes a surprise cameo, and there's Forrest suddenly not alone in the darkened pool. ("Swim at your own risk," reads the sign.) Father's little dividend, Mallarmé's "notre idéal," the claw mark on the birthday cake. It boils down again to the blur of parental care and parental dread, with Junior briefly pacified by a plate of raw meat. Lynch is pointedly near with Eraserhead. With Eddie Constantine, Bobby Ramsen, Glenda Young, Lynn Wood, and James Dixon.
--- Fernando F. Croce |