deathdream

Every bit as chilling, powerful and culturally relevant as better-known horror films like Night of the Living Dead and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 1974's Deathdream is an overlooked masterpiece in a genre that tosses the word around far too casually. But director Bob Clark (A Christmas Story) and writer Alan Ormsby deliver a legitimate shocker that also serves as a not-so-subtle commentary on the post-Vietnam experience.

Anxious for word about their son, Andy, the Brooks family has dinner interrupted by a telegram announcing his death. Unwilling to accept the truth, Mrs. Brooks prays for his safe return; and her wish is granted, with terrible consequences. Andy's late-night arrival coincides with the brutal murder of a truck driver, and their son's behavior is nothing short of sociopathic.

After Andy murders the family dog, Mr. Brooks calls on the local doctor for advice who quickly connects all the dots. Andy is actually "undead," injecting himself with the blood of the living to retain his healthy appearance. Despite this revelation, both parents rush to protect their son from his crimes. But a double date with his old girlfriend at the drive-in pushes Andy's bloodlust over the edge, turning him into a shambling monster hunted by the entire town.

It's doesn't take a class on film theory to figure out this variation of The Monkey's Paw has been ingeniously co-opted to fit the epidemic of PTSD faced by soldiers returning from Vietnam; Ormsby's script makes the connection quite clear. Andy just isn't the same: detached, unemotional and inexplicably violent. And society's reaction to his return is equally suspicious. The more the Brooks family attempts to shield their son from the outside world, the more damage they do to themselves.

Deathdream could very easily play as a sober family drama a la Coming Home or The Deer Hunter, but couching the movie within the horror genre amplifies its themes to a brilliantly exaggerated affect. Andy's need for human blood, which he injects from one vein to another (a modern vampiric conceit lifted later by George Romero in Martin), is a clever transposition of the drug addiction problem. And his emotional disassociation from friends and family who stubbornly insist things should be "like old times" is poignant and chilling at the same time.

But Clark and Ormsby's goal isn't simply to preach...it's to scare the hell out of you. And Deathdream's slow meltdown of the family unit it terrifying to watch. The lead performance by Richard Backus as Andy is icily effective, beginning with awkward smiles and empty eyes all the way to full blown bodily decomposition. But it's the response of those around him that make the horror real, John Marley and Lynn Carlin's sensitive portrayal of parents who would do anything to have their son back...or even his empty shell.

Blue Underground's Limited Edition Blu-ray / DVD combo has been a long requested upgrade from their standard-def DVD and here's hoping the fans come out in full force. The new hi-def transfer can't hide the low-budget origins - in fact, it often highlights the grit and grain inherent in the original source. But there's a boost and color and detail across the board and it's obvious a lot of work went into making Deathdream look this good. Many extras are carried over from the previous edition, including a pair of audio commentaries (one from Clark and another from Ormsby), featurettes with star Richard Backus and make-up guru Tom Savini (whose work makes its debut here), along with alternate main titles (Dead of Night is the title used on the main feature). But there's a wealth of new material, including an interviews with production manager John "Bud" Cardos, actress Anya Liffey and Alan Ormsby who also provides one of his short student films. Trailers, stills and liner notes complete was is essential viewing for any serious fan of horror.