|
Nothing like a mobile stronghold to navigate the counter-cultural divide, nothing like a satanic cult to spoil a skiing holiday. Two Texas couples (Peter Fonda and Lara Parker, Warren Oates and Loretta Swit) aboard Minnelli's long, long trailer updated, color television and 4-channel stereo and microwave oven, "we are self-contained, babe!" A gnarled tree lights up in the darkness and cloaked figures writhe and chant, "Ring Around the Rosie" to the suburbanites peeping through binoculars until a dagger plunges into a naked blonde and suddenly they're witnesses to murder. The wives pore over The Encyclopedia of Witchcraft and Demonology at the library while the fellas take the authorities to the scene of the crime, the sheriff (R.G. Armstrong) just chuckles incredulously: "It's a wonder you hadn't run up against the Jolly Green Giant." Rosemary's Baby divided by Deliverance, a pleasing drive-in formulation by Jack Starrett. A runic is pinned to the vehicle's shattered rear window, a stopover at the RV park finds a swimming pool encircled by ominous geezers, a certain crimson tinge hangs over the country band at the honky-tonk. The droll realization is that of a landscape overrun by chipper diabolists, down to the hayseed manning a gas station with a black cat hissing by his side. ("The phone company ain't too swift out here," shrugs one local at the severed lines of communication.) The ferocious stunts of the extended chase are followed by a long shot of the silhouetted trailer haloed at sunset, the punchline is a celebratory martini rudely interrupted by Lucifer's most tenacious minions. "This is gonna hurt when I laugh, if I ever do." Craven takes it from there with The Hills Have Eyes. With Wes Bishop, Clay Tanner, Carol Blodgett, Ricci Ware, Paul A. Partain, and James N. Harrell.
--- Fernando F. Croce |