Creepshow 2, 1987.
Directed by Michael Gornick,
Starring Lois Chiles, George Kennedy, Dorothy Lamour, and Tom Savini.
SYNOPSIS:
Three macabre tales from the latest issue of a boy’s favorite comic book, dealing with a vengeful wooden Native American, a monstrous blob in a lake, and an undying hitchhiker.
When Creepshow 2 first lurched onto screens in 1987, it already felt like a ghost of its predecessor… cheaper, rougher, but brimming with the same retro thrills that made George A. Romero’s original such wicked fun.
It begins, as the first did, with a comic book and a cackle, and even now, almost forty years later, it feels like a gleeful page torn from the back of an EC horror annual. But returning to it via Arrow’s handsome 4K restoration, one realises how much of the film’s strange appeal lies in its scrappy energy. It’s cheaper, thinner and flatter than George A. Romero’s 1982 original, but also more direct, more elemental, and oddly more fun when taken on its own trash-pulp terms.
Directed by Michael Gornick (Romero’s long-time cinematographer) and adapted from stories by Stephen King, Creepshow 2 condenses the earlier film’s five tales into three. The reason, as Gornick explains on the commentary track, was money. The first film had big names and a generous production; this one had Tom Savini in a rubber mask and a studio keen to cut corners. Yet in the best horror-anthology tradition, necessity breeds invention. The linking device, an animated yarn about a bullied kid and a killer Venus flytrap, has the charm of a late-night VHS intermission, and serves as a nostalgic spine to three morality tales of death and comeuppance.
The opening story, Old Chief Wood’nhead, takes its time establishing George Kennedy and Dorothy Lamour as aging shopkeepers in a dying town. The tone is gentle, even sentimental, before a trio of thugs burst in and the titular wooden statue comes to vengeful life. Gornick shoots it with patience, using shadows and suggestion more than spectacle, but when the carnage begins, it’s as satisfying as a ghost-train ride. Kennedy’s quiet dignity keeps it from descending into pure kitsch, though the pacing wobbles.
The Raft, by contrast, is a miniature shocker (and personal favourite). It’s lean, nasty and unapologetically cruel. Four students venture onto a lake and meet their fate at the hands of a slick black blob that looks suspiciously like bin liner and oil. It’s the segment that most viewers remember, partly because of its icky effects and mean-spirited humour. The sequence where the last survivor gloats on shore only to be devoured in mid-boast is still a cracker, and proof that Gornick could deliver a sting worthy of Romero’s own comic timing.
Finally, The Hitchhiker ends proceedings with a wicked grin. Lois Chiles plays an adulterous motorist haunted by the corpse she mowed down, a tale of guilt and punishment that grows nastier with each “Thanks for the ride, lady!” The make-up effects get progressively more grotesque, and Chiles throws herself into the panic with genuine commitment. It’s here that the film hits its stride, finishing with a punchline straight out of a midnight paperback.
In truth, Creepshow 2 has never been a great film, but it’s always been an enjoyable one. Gornick’s direction lacks Romero’s wit, yet his affection for the material is obvious, and the partnership of King, Romero and Savini still glows through the cheapness. What Arrow’s new 4K restoration does is remind us of how tactile this sort of horror used to be: the latex, the blood gel, the hand-painted signage. The transfer is crisp without scrubbing away the grime, the colours rich but natural, and the audio tracks (mono, stereo and 5.1) offer genuine punch. The animated interludes remain soft, as they always did, but the live-action segments gleam with a newfound depth.
The disc package is typically exhaustive. There’s a lively commentary with Gornick, candid about the production’s tight budget and Romero’s guiding hand; interviews with Tom Savini, George Romero, Daniel Beer and Tom Wright; and a nostalgic featurette on the film’s special effects from Howard Berger and Greg Nicotero that’s worth the price of admission alone. Arrow also includes the unfilmed comic Pinfall, a gruesome bowling-alley revenge story that might have been the film’s fourth segment, beautifully rendered as a collectible booklet.
Seen afresh, Creepshow 2 feels like a relic from a time when horror wore its artifice proudly. It’s rough around the edges, occasionally crass, and sometimes clumsy, but that’s part of its charm. Arrow’s 4K edition gives this scrappy sequel a level of care and respect it never quite received on release, turning faded pulp into something approaching cult preservation.
If, like me, you love 80s nostalgia and the era’s important role in horror history, this set is still a cherished addition to my collection.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Tom Atkinson
