THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS.
by Jarrod Jones. This is Re/Play, where we take a fresh look at an older film, TV series, or video game to see if fond memories hold up under remastered scrutiny. This week: the Collector’s Edition of Ghoulies, available now in 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray editions.
THE MOVIE: Ghoulies
ORIGINAL RELEASE DATE: January 18, 1985
NEW FORMAT: A 16-bit Scan of the original camera negative, presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio in Dolby Vision/HDR. The Blu-ray edition features a 2023 HD restoration in the same aspect ratio. Both feature a 2.0 mono mix in DTS-HD. From the MVD Rewind Collection.
RE/PLAYING: Some horror movies establish a sense of serenity before diving into the gnarly, ugly stuff, if for no other reason than to provide contrast. Not Ghoulies. Luca Bercovici shoves his ugly little spuds right in our faces at the first opportunity. And gee-whiz, are they ugly: slimy mouths, little pointy teeth, rum-soaked sailor noses, toxic-green beast eyes; these fellas are gross. But, as is later revealed in Bercovici’s patently ridiculous/quite a bit of fun 1985 creature feature, they’re not without their charms. One even pops out of a toilet seat, seemingly primed to party down with the movie’s cast of weirdo college clowns.
I wish Ghoulies had cranked up that funky good-time energy more. The film isn’t so much about these foul little critters as it is about Jonathan Graves (Peter Liapis), a college jock who inherits his family’s crumbling mansion. We already know from the opener that, as a baby, Jon was almost sacrificed to Lucifer — keep up — by his deranged cult leader father, Malcolm (Michael Des Barres). Jon has no recollection of this ordeal, which might explain his lukewarm feelings for Wolfgang (Jack Nance), the eerie former cultist who saved him at the behest of his mother and now tends to the mansion’s grounds.
We also know his mom (Victoria Catlin) was ultimately offered to the devil as tribute in his place. It’s an appropriately sordid way to establish your demon movie — and, later, provide stakes when Jon’s rock star devil dad shows up — even if it does tamp expectations for the fierceness of Bercovici’s marquee monsters: one of the little ghoulies shuts its eyes before Malcolm offers Satan his cruel, bloody prize. Aw, they’re squeamish!
Back to Jon. He’s brought Rebecca (Lisa Pelikan) along to get the family estate sorted, and you get the impression that they’re very much in love. When he suggests he’ll take the rest of the year off school to fix up the place, she’s hesitant — whatever these two have been planning in terms of a future together could be put on pause for an old dump filled with strange occult trinkets. She supports his choice and continues her studies, though leaving Jon alone to leaf through his father’s old journals has disturbing consequences. He grows more intense and withdrawn, and she busts him conducting strange rituals in the basement. Morale could use a boost, so Rebecca suggests throwing a housewarming party.
It’s here where Ghoulies shifts gears and becomes the rowdy college movie it was promoted to be, where good-looking co-eds crack beers, smoke doobies, and try to get some necking in before they’re besieged by little slimy beasts. It’s hard not to admire the way the movie grapples with what it wants to be; sometimes, it’s a campy horror romp, and other times it fleetingly brushes against more severe material. (One wonders what aspect this might have taken had Stan Winston stayed on for the movie’s creature design, which, to limit production costs turned into this hand-puppet sideshow.) Some elements position Ghoulies into a faintly realized occult melodrama, specifically in its broken family elements between Jon and his ostentatiously glammy Satanist father. Later, we discover that Jon, through the cosmic reach of his hellbound dad, has disastrously become a chip off the old block.
On that front, there’s an alarming scene when Jon roofies his friends and makes them unwitting participants in his father’s dark rituals. Jon’s manic screaming becomes so contagious at one point that Rebecca, their pals, and the wee ghoulies who have answered his call share a prolonged, bloodcurdling screech that is disturbing enough to transcend all this low-budget production silliness. The rest of it is a laugh, especially when Jack Nance pops in again for the big finale. But Ghoulies has enough bargain-bin supernatural glamour to warrant another look as a worthy Halloween dork-in.
ACTUALLY SPECIAL FEATURES: “Just For The Chick, Man,” a 34-minute interview with director Luca Bercovici that details his unlikely ascent to directing (his good looks and family history in Italian film had him pegged to be an actor), his mercenary work on Ghoulies, and the fraught experience of working with schlockmeister producer, Charles Band. Bercovici’s account of the lawsuit he filed against Band for unpaid Ghoulies money succinctly articulates the lose-win-lose nature of ‘80s low-budget filmmaking. And don’t skip “From Toilets to Terror: The Making of Ghoulies”, a 30-minute gloss-over doc that’s worth watching just to see Band make a total ass of himself on at least three separate occasions.
RE/PLAY VALUE: Exploring the production of Ghoulies via its special features may not yield many revelations (most of the cast and crew simply chuckle at its unlikely endurance as a cult film), but its cheapie horror visuals, remastered in bewildering 4K, do reveal fun production seams that would otherwise be obscured by grainy videotape. You can spot the sheen of the black lights used to make actors’ neon-green eyes pop; thin strings make goblets float; and there’s an incredible moment when you can clearly hear Bercovici cackling off-camera during Keith Joe Dick’s performance as the film’s most lascivious character, fittingly named Dick. Ghoulies pops on rewatch. These grody little monsters have never looked so good.
6 out of 10
The Ghoulies Collector’s Edition is available in 4K Ultra HD and Blu-ray editions now. For purchasing information, click this.
Directed by Luca Bercovici.
Written by Luca Bercovici and Jefery Levy.
Cinematography by Mac Ahlberg.
Starring Peter Liapis, Lisa Pelikan, Michael Des Barres, Scott Thomson, Mariska Hargitay, and Jack Nance.
Produced by Charles Band and Jefery Levy.
Rated PG-13. Contains some doobage, boozing, Satanic buffoonery, and a bit of light necking.
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