More often than not, passion trumps resources when it comes to filmmaking. And the direct-to-video market during the ‘80s was a free-for-all that produced hundreds of titles competing for shelf space with the major studios. Bret McCormick’s The Abomination (1986) is a Super-8 lensed regional effort that delivers orgiastic amounts of blood and guts mixed with some clever puppetry to bring its cosmic creation to life.
A coughed-up tumor slithers into the mouth of a local mechanic, evolving into a voracious eating machine that forces him to provide more bodies for its insatiable appetite. Shot with a cast of family and friends, McCormick’s amateur epic is like a low-rent cross between Brain Damage and Little Shop of Horrors, although the humor here seems largely unintentional. The post-dubbed dialogue and overblown foley effects (every footstep is like a cannon shot!) are just part of the charm. But the Abomination itself steals the show, hiding inside every nook and cranny of the run-down kitchen (not to mention the washing machine) and popping out for a quick meal.
McCormick’s film was obviously made to appeal to extreme gore aficionados of the time and the three-minute intro – which was also used as the trailer – makes sure they’ll stick around to see everything in context. As a homegrown horror, it’s the piece de resistance of its era. But as a stepping stone to bigger and better things, not so much. McCormick stayed in his lane throughout the ‘90s, working with C-movie stars like Joe Estevez and Jeffrey Combs and filling a niche with title like RepliGator (1998).
A government project designed to duplicate super-soldiers instead turns them into female
nymphomaniacs…who then turn into humanoid alligators after sex…whose victims became homosexual zombies! Thankfully, McCormick takes none of this seriously, bouncing between topless women and pew-pew laser beams while the cast tries not to laugh during a take. The concept is just ridiculous enough – and horny enough – to hold your attention. Which is really all the movie aspires to anyway. Gunnar Hansen and Brinke Stevens put in an appearance for the horror crowd and advertising appeal.
Both titles are making their Blu-ray debuts from Visual Vengeance (spine number 9 and 10 if you’re keeping track), a company that specializes in special edition releases from the analog era. The Abomination comes with over five hours of bonus content, interviews and audio commentaries plus a collector’s booklet, fold-out poster and comic book adaptation. RepliGators gets roughly the same treatment with a deleted opening scene, more interviews and a pair of “X-Ray Specs” featured in the film. Available separately, fans of bad movies never had it so good.
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