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5
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8 |
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10
= Highest Rating |
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SNEAK
PREVIEW
|
DVD Release Date: Sept.
3, 2002 |
An
infamous late '70s "Slasher" film —
made to cash in on the tremendous success of 1974's The
Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which was still raking
in the bucks in re-release three years later —
The Toolbox Murders is chiefly
remembered for the controversy it generated. Feminist groups
protested the film; TV news magazine 60 Minutes even
covered it in a report on violent misogynist imagery in popular
entertainment. Without a doubt sleazy and exploitative, featuring
grim, sensationalistic murder scenes, the charge of misogyny
seems misplaced, however —
especially when one considers that two of the three screenwriters
were women.
The first half hour
of the film is virtually plotless, almost completely taken
up with a series of murders committed by a masked assailant
at a California apartment complex. All the victims are single
women in their twenties except for the first to die, a boozy
middle-aged lady who seems to know the killer (whose unmasked
face isn't shown during this sequence). As is unambiguously
suggested by the title, the killer dispatches his victims
with a varied assortment of instruments he selects from a
large metal toolbox: a power drill, a hammer, a chisel. The
first three killings take place on a single night. The police
launch an investigation but there aren't any real clues to
go on. Two of the victims were roommates; the pair didn't
really know the first woman who was murdered. The owner of
the complex, Mr. Kingsley (veteran character actor Cameron
Mitchell), is unable to provide any information that might
help. The killings seem to be the random work of an opportunistic
psychopath. The very next night the fourth victim is claimed,
a foxy nude model who's slaughtered with a cordless nail gun.
Breaking his vicious pattern, the killer abducts a 15-year
old girl from a neighboring apartment. Initially the police
are hesitant to connect the teenager's disappearance with
the murders —
an interesting contrast
indeed with today's current events, in which the snatching
of every kid in the country is breathlessly obsessed over
on the nationwide cable news channels. (More for ratings than
as any kind of public service, unfortunately.) The kidnapped
girl, Laurie (Pamelyn Ferdin), is tied up in the killer's
home, at the complete mercy of a madman who could snap again
at any moment. With the authorities more concerned about the
string of unsolved homicides than a potential runaway teen,
it's left to Laurie's older brother Joey (Nicolas Beauvy)
to try and find her. He feels sure that it was the killer
who took her. Enlisting the aid of Kingsley's nephew Kent
(Land of the Lost's Wesley Eure) —
who's been detailed by his uncle to clean up the victims'
flats once the police are done with them —
Joey hopes he can find even the smallest clue that might point
in the murderer's direction.
I'm not really giving
away anything to report that it's Mitchell's character, Kingsley,
who is the Toolbox Killer. This is fairly obvious from the
get-go (except to the cops in the film, that is). While the
flick's boring middle act is taken up with Joey's amateur
sleuthing, it is Mitchell who dominates the final third. He's
very good as the psychopath, even when it seems he's channeling
a hyperactive William Shatner on Crank... Kingsley's stark
raving mad, so Mitchell's over-the-top acting is actually
in keeping with the character. Seasoned child actor Ferdin
deserves the real kudos, however, for her terrific performance
as the kidnapped Laurie. She's believable in every scene she's
in (regardless of the quality of the dialog), and is especially
effective conveying fear and dread once in Kingsley's psychotic
clutches. Unfortunately for the movie these star performers
don't take center stage until the third act, which manages
to deliver a couple of startling twists. The middle part of
the film is a real drag. We're stuck following either Joey
or Detective Jamison (Parts:
The Clonus Horror's Tim Donnelly), the dimwitted
cop in charge of the case who never gets anywhere with his
investigation. A couple of scenes are even devoted to Laurie's
mom, who's having a hard time dealing with the situation.
(Well, duh!)
Toolbox
Murders has a made-for-TV
look to it, which isn't surprising considering it's the only
feature film from a television director. Viewers aren't going
to find anything stylish or innovative here. Exploitation
aficionados should delight in the murder sequences, though,
which are all front-loaded in the first 30 minutes. There's
almost a documentary-style, cinema verité feel to them,
which, despite not being as bloody as other notorious flicks,
definitely heightens the squirm factor. For all the notoriety
garnered by the Nail Gun set-piece —
due, no doubt, to the full frontal nudity and masturbation
of the victim —
it's the double murder of the roommates (via hammer and chisel)
that's truly disturbing.
|
|
|
Toolbox
Murders joins Shock
Waves and The
Prowler as the inaugural releases of Blue Underground,
a new DVD company specializing in exploitation/cult movie fare.
For a 25-year old low budget drive-in flick, Toolbox
is truly given an A-picture treatment. Taken from the original
35mm negative, the disc's anamorphic, letterboxed transfer (1.66:1)
looks superb, with nary a blemish to be seen. The mono audio
track is clear and crisp, devoid of any hiss or "crackles" produced
by distortion.
Extras are pleasingly
plentiful. The original theatrical trailer is included, which
trumpets that the film is supposedly based on a true-life murder
case. (Take that tidbit of ballyhoo with a grain of salt.
Even wackier, the sound of the nail gun firing is replaced with
the swishing "door foley" from the classic Star Trek
TV show!) You also get the television spot —
no way someone could advertise a movie in this manner nowadays
—
and two sensationalistic radio spots. (Which I distinctly remember
hearing on a local station when I was in high school.) There's
also a substantial Image Gallery featuring production stills,
posters, pressbook materials and drive-in ads. A recently filmed
video interview with nail gun victim Marianne Walter (a.k.a.
late '70s-early '80s porn star "Kelly Nichols") is an amusing
look at how she participated in such a grueling, demanding shoot
completely in the buff. (What a trouper!) Rounding out the package
is a full-length audio commentary, recorded recently, with producer
Tony Didio, cinematographer Gary Graver, and actress Pamelyn
Ferdin. Little attention is given to the controversy generated
by the film, focusing mainly on the genesis of the project,
the shooting schedule, and the late Cameron Mitchell, who apparently
was something of a bon vivant. Graver has a keen eye for detail
("Hey, that's my couch! I took it home after we wrapped!");
at times Ferdin may seem about to jump through your speakers,
so gushingly enthusiastic is she about participating in the
commentary track. (Her first?) 8/12/02 |
| UPDATE
This disc went OOP about nine months after this review was posted,
but was re-released by Blue Underground in September 2003. |
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