Out of all of his films, Wes Craven’s Shocker is unlike the others. It almost feels like a soft reboot of A Nightmare on Elm Street. This was the second Craven film I was introduced to, and it quickly became my favorite. But it’s not without its flaws. By the time Shocker came out, New Line Cinema had released their fourth Nightmare film and was in the process of pumping out the fifth. It was clear that Nightmare had descended from a straight-up horror film with moments of comedy to full-on horror comedy. Was Shocker a middle finger to New Line? Was this Craven saying, “I can do that too, but better”?

Shocker vs. A Nightmare on Elm Street: A Subtle Reboot?

Shocker follows Jonathan Parker (Peter Berg), a college football player deeply in love with his girlfriend, Alison Clemens (Camille Cooper). Their small town is plagued by a faceless serial killer who has, so far, annihilated seven families. Jonathan has a nightmare of his foster mom and siblings being slaughtered and quickly rushes over to their house…only to find it was more than just a nightmare. Horace Pinker (Mitch Pileggi) is eventually fingered as the killer and is put to death by the electric chair. But when Horace’s death goes awry, Jonathan quickly finds out that his life is still in grave danger.

Written and directed by Wes Craven, Shocker is a heavy metal horror-comedy that delights as much as it makes you question. Craven’s creation of Horace Pinker feels much like a pseudo-Krueger. His quips and one-liners are enough to leave a grin on your face as you grimace at the underlying brutality of his actions. In both life and death, Pinker is far more terrifying than Freddy. His love of a singular blade cuts deep in each victim, and his anger only grows once he comes after Jonathan and Alison. Bloodier and bloodier, Pinker continually finds ways to one-up his previous kills. As someone who mainly knows Mitch Pileggi from The X-Files, his performance as Horace Pinker is beyond astounding. He lays into the cheese and quips with brilliant ease.

Peter Berg, on the other hand. Woof. The pre-rage bait Berg flops on-screen harder than the Deepwater Horizon. Mitch Pileggi may chew the scenery every chance he gets, but Berg gums it. His performance could be best described as someone who constantly has peanut butter in his mouth while an electronic butt plug malfunctions inside of him.

Pacing Problems: A Tale of Three Films in One

Shocker has a real pacing issue and ultimately feels like three short films in one. That is probably weird to hear after someone says it’s one of their favorite Wes Craven movies. The first third of the film goes fast and hard. By the time Pinker is arrested and executed, the film halts in its tracks. The tenish-minute park scene could be labeled a worse They Live alley fight scene. It’s flat, slow, and feels like an afterthought. All it’s useful for is setting up and paying off a MacGuffin for how to kill Pinker for good. Shocker’s nearly two-hour runtime would have been unaffected by a shorter park scene. Post-park scene, the film picks back up and turns into a fascinating cat-and-mouse chase.

It’s impossible to talk about Shocker without mentioning the incredible soundtrack. Of course, there is Iggy Pop and Bonfire, but this film was my first introduction to “No More Mr. Nice Guy”, and it’s hard not to be moved when Megadeath’s cover cranks into the film at an 11. What really sells this film’s soundtrack is the bookending of “Shocker” and “Shocker (reprise)”. Hearing Paul Stanley hit the high line, “We will have the power,” with his astounding voice, will never not give me chills. The soundtrack for Shocker is by far one of Wes Craven’s greatest soundtracks for his entire body of work.

The category for May over here at Horror Press was more of a free-for-all. When thinking of films to discuss, my first thought was underappreciated films from well-known filmmakers. What started as that list slowly morphed into half Wes Craven appreciation and half Udo Kier appreciation. And if you ask me, those two categories aren’t too shabby. Before we dig into one of Lars von Trier’s earlier works, we must accept that von Trier is inherently not a good person. The reason I picked this film is to highlight one of the most stylistically beautiful, this-shouldn’t-work-but-somehow-does films from the tail end of the 1980s.

Lars von Trier’s Epidemic: A Stylistic Marvel of the Late 1980s

Epidemic follows Lars von Trier and Niels Vørsel, who play fictionalized (though not by much) versions of themselves. They find themselves in trouble when the script in the film gets corrupted on a floppy disk. Von Trier and Vørsel spend the next few days isolated as they attempt to quickly complete a new script before their producer, Claes Kastholm Hansen, shows up in five days. Their new plague-based script is risky but becomes more dangerous when the events they are writing seemingly become a reality.

Written by Lars von Trier and Niels Vørsel and directed by von Trier, Epidemic is an interesting practice in self-reflection from two artists who are afraid to truly reflect. Epidemic is a dystopian past where von Tier and Vørsel lost the script for The Elements of Crime and inadvertently created a boil-filled pandemic. To have the penultimate film in your planned [debut] trilogy (which ended with the mildly infuriating Europa) be a meta-commentary on what you perceive yourself as is brave. It’s also where the film fails.

What works in favor of Epidemic is how visually interesting von Trier turns nothingness. It’s a more active, less cerebral Danish response to My Dinner With Andre. A majority of Epidemic is two men in a room talking with one another, and von Trier somehow finds a way to make it compelling. The film jumps back and forth between real life and the film they’re writing without losing a beat. Its deliberate pacing might be a turnoff to fans of later von Trier, but this pre-Dogme 95 film sets the groundwork for what the auteur was working towards.

One thing I’ve always appreciated about his films is how he selectively utilizes lighting. Using black and white film at the tail end of the ’80s is a bold choice that works in the film’s favor. Different film stocks accompany different emotions in Epidemic, which lends to the film’s lighting being harsher, resulting in a more visually emotional film. Intense and deliberate lighting helps von Trier frame both the action and the characters in a way I wish he would attempt again. Gone are the mentally laborious stock videos that try to imply a deeper meaning than presented; Epidemic feels like a true work of art.