Color, 1976, 88m. / Directed by Tobe Hooper / Starring Neville Brand, Mel Ferrer, Stuart Whitman, Mel Ferrer, Marilyn Burns, Carolyn Jones, William Findley, Roberta Collins, Robert Englund, Crystin Sinclaire / Dark Sky / WS (1.85:1) (16:9), Elite (US R1 NTSC) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9), Diamond (US R0 NTSC), Vipco (UK R0 PAL)
Following the unexpected success of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, director Tobe Hooper decided to switch cinematic locales from the arid landscapes of Texas to the sultry bayous of Louisiana. In Eaten Alive, also known on the drive-in and horror grindhouse circuit
At a sleazy brothel run by Miss Hattie (Jones), a newly arrived hooker (Collins) with a bad wig decides she doesn't want to cooperate with horny cowpoke Buck (a very young Robert Englund, who delivers the hilarious opening line later made famous in Kill Bill). The naive girl gets kicked out and winds up at the Starlight Motel, where the owner, Judd (Brand), welcomes her with a particularly grisly form of hospitality. Soon after, a family comes to stay for the night. The father, Roy (Finley), gets extremely peeved when the family dog gets eaten by Judd's pet crocodile. When Roy tries to take a shotgun to the hungry croc, Judd pulls out his trusty scythe and takes care of his rude guest. Roy's daughter, Angie (a pre-Halloween Kyle Richards), soon winds up orphaned, but more company arrives in the form of the hooker's father, Harvey (Ferrer), and sister, Faye (Burns). As the unhinged Judd tries to cover up his ghastly crimes, events soon spin wildly and violently out of control.
While Chainsaw earned respect for
Finally the story behind the film gets something of an authoritative treatment here, at least with some of the participants. Collins, Finley, Richards, producer/co-writer Mardi Rustam, and FX artist Craig Reardon team up for the entertaining and fast-paced commentary track, apparently cut together from separate sessions and designed to give a linear, mostly scene-specific account of how the film came to be. Engludn pops up separately for "My Name Is Buck," a nice video interview about his early horror days in this film and with other major horror directors, while "The Butcher of Elmendorf" covers a real life Depression-era serial killer who disposed of his prety with a handy crocodile. As with Hooper's previous film, the real-life connection is pretty thin but interesting to contemplate. The savory package is rounded out with two similar trailers (one as Death Trap and the other under its current title), a still gallery, and bonus trailer for Chainsaw and The Devil's Rain.
under such titles as Horror Hotel, Starlight Slaughter, and Death Trap, Hooper cranks up the sick humour with which he discreetly laced his first film. Unfortunately, few bothered to see or remember this little sickie, thanks to bad distribution and its notable departure from the Chainsaw method of guerilla horror filmmaking.
depicting violence almost entirely through suggestion rather than graphic bloodletting, Hooper pulls out all the stops here. People munching, dog munching, slashings, and shootings are all splashed across the screen, but fortunately Hooper keeps his tongue in cheek by depicting the murderer as a quirky, wooden-legged backwoods yokel who elicits as many nervous chuckles as screams. Filmed almost entirely inside a single set, the film makes good use of its claustrophobic environment and some surreal, stylish visual touches, though mainstream horror fans may find the pace too slow and erratic to build much momentum. The actors generally do a good job, with movie tough guy Brand gleefully chomping the scenery (this was during his odd drive-in period, which also included Psychic Killer). And once again, Hooper and Wayne Bell have crafted an unnerving musique concrete score that drives up the suspense as much as the events onscreen.
Eaten Alive first surfaced on DVD as a wretched bargain title from Diamond that was eclipsed soon after by a damaged but watchable no-frills version from Elite. However, fans waiting for a genuine special edition should find most of their wishes answered with Dark Sky's much later and much-needed upgrade, which features an anamorphic transfer that's certainly better than before but, given the shoddy origins of the film, understandably still not all that hot. The troubled production was shot on the cheap and has always looked rather soft and grungy, but Hooper's audaciously sleazy color schemes pop through with incredibly vivid clarity. Most importantly, the transfer is far less compressed than its predecssors, so all those foggy night scenes no longer turn into a hellish blanket of digital muck.
