nightmares

Anthology films, as rare as they are throughout cinematic history, seem to fit most comfortably within the horror genre. Like campfire stories, they don't demand a complex narrative or fully developed characters to generate a good scare or unexpected twist. Amicus put out several memorable anthologies in the early '70s like Tales from the Crypt, George Romero and Stephen King knocked it out of the park with Creepshow in 1982, and we've even seen a surprising resurgence of late with Trick 'r Treat (2007) and the VHS films.

Nightmares (1983) actually began life as a TV spinoff of ABC's Darkroom, a latter-day Twilight Zone hosted by James Coburn. With the show's cancellation Universal decided to push several discarded stories into theatrical development. There's really no cohesive theme at work, just a collection of four chapters that still seem more at home on the small screen than the large one.

Terror in Topanga restages a common urban legend about an escaped psycho on the loose with a signature hiding place used to surprise his victims. This time his target is a housewife (Cristina Raines) out on a cigarette run who runs low on gas in the wrong part of town. There's not much story here, even by anthology standards, but the surprise ending still gets the job done.

The Bishop of Battle, starring Emilio Estevez as a video game hustler obsessed with reaching the mythical Level 13 on his favorite machine, is the most memorable chapter of the film. Not only because of the timely arcade setting (confession: I started wearing my Walkman while pumping quarter after quarter into Discs of Tron after this one) but because of Estevez's early appearance and the authentic L.A. look director Joseph Sargent captures. The ending is a straight-up Tron rip-off, but this is the only segment that really looks and feels like a feature film.

The Benediction stars Lance Henriksen, right before his James Cameron collaborations, as a priest having a crisis of faith. After quitting the church, he's assaulted by a demonic pick-up truck that appears to be driven by the Devil himself. Obviously working from the template laid down in Steven Spielberg's Duel, this one is pure filler, despite Henriksen's attempts to add some spiritual pathos.

Finally, Night of the Rat delivers on a corny good premise about an oversized rodent tormenting a family in their otherwise perfect suburban home. Richard Masur and Veronica Cartwright star as bickering parents whose daughter is put in jeopardy after they unknowingly kill the baby of a supernatural supersized rat. The effects in the finale as are laughable as anything from a Bert I. Gordon film, but it somehow works in context.

Nightmares certainly didn't inspire very many of its own; it's rarely scary and insultingly derivative. But frequent play on early pay-cable stations made this one a staple for kids of the '80s. Even though each sequence is lacking, the cumulative effect is still enjoyable. And Shout Factory's new Blu-ray presentation makes it even more so, with a remarkable hi-def transfer (you can choose a widescreen or full-frame aspect ratio), hilarious radio ads and a commentary with producer Andrew Mirisch and actress Cristina Raines. It's not a full-fledged special edition, but it's well worth a purchase considering how long this one's been out of print.