Here we go again, another gem that’s been lambasted by critics armchair and professional alike: BCI Eclipse have dug up Robert Hammer’s 1980 sleaze-o-rama Don’t Answer The Phone and given it an uncut release. I do like my slashers but serial killers employing strangulation instead of the good ol’ butcher’s knife struck me as too dull in the past – this flick was a shock to that system. An all-too-human killer played by Nicholas Worth saunters around in an army-camo jacket doing women in with stockings. In between, he taunts a psychologist over call-in radio with a creepy Mexican voice. His victims aren’t all airheads we cheer on to die nor carefully developed characters we earnestly want to live, they’re mostly real seeming women who had the bad fortune to be targeted, and get terrorized and killed in most uncinematic ways. The Killer, with his sweaty balding head leering over them, is a complete psychotic that operates by his own indecipherable world logic. Police procedural breaks up the time spent with the killer, but I wanted to wash myself after watching this. Sadly, real life is the sequel to Don’t Answer The Phone – because there are slimeball nutjobs like this one out there in everyday life.
Audio/Visual:
The 1.85:1 Anamorphic Widescreen is suitably cleaned up but thankfully the late 70’s hasn’t been digitally scrubbed out – this is a gritty flick that relies on its street-level charm/repulsion (take your pick). I’m not sure such high-pitched anguished female screams would need to be in more elaborate multi-channel encoding then the mono sound on offer, so no problems there.
Supplements:
A featurette, Digital Roadshow’s Answering The Phone is directed by Bruce Holecheck and interviews the man behind the serial killer, actor [and now the late] Nicholas Worth. He’s a kind man who chooses his words carefully, so everything he has to say is interesting or important. The Audio Commentary by writer/producer/director Robert Hammer & moderator Shane M. Dallmann covers the whole spectrum of the film’s origin-to-release. Hammer offers free flowing info for Dallmann who prods with a scholarly voice.
Two Easter Eggs are present – on the special features page highlight Off on the commentary option then press Up. The icon will disappear – so then press Right to reveal a red camera icon that opens up more Nicholas Worth footage of the man discussing his other movie roles. The other is footage found after the film when the audio commentary track is on and is best described as commentary on the commentary! Also, an introduction to the film by Hammer & Dallmann autoplays with the film but isn’t advertised on the packaging, so could well be considered an egg itself. Rounding out the disc are the customary lesser extras like the Still Gallery of on-set snaps which runs in montage and trailers for the film and lurid brethren The Hearse, Blood Mania and Roberta (Snuff) Findlay’s Prime Evil.
Graphics:
The classic white text and red phone artwork is reproduced for the cover with subtle enhancements, and comes in a nice plastic-embossed cardboard slipcase. Menu animation featuring bloody razorwire doesn’t overwhelm like others tend to do (and keep us waiting forever until we can pick an option!).
This Canadian/Russian co-production wisely took a more serious approach to an already worn out premise. Although the small budget, choppy editing and time lapses are sadly apparent (two of the actors have totally different hair styles by the second half of the film) Happy Hell Night manages to maintain a sinister atmosphere. Some of the carnage is pretty top notch too. Armed with a trusty pickaxe, Malius does some major damaged to a few of the more indiscreet students.
Ted Clark gives the film a breath of brevity as well. As Bara, he’s an annoying brat with a bad mullet, but he’s given the best lines in the movie and does not disappoint in their delivery. It’s worth the price of a rental just to hear lines like “They get the bitches and I get the riches,” “You got the willies or what,” and “While you were out fucking the dog…” A decade later, Clark would become one of the backwoods hillbillies in another underrated gem, Wrong Turn. Director and co-writer Brian Owens didn’t find much fame after Happy Hell Night, though he did go on to pen the dismal Brainscan, and it’s unfortunate since although it’s not perfect, this movie is overflowing with flickers of talent. The image of the squirming Jesus statue looks like it came right out of a fever dream. If only Owens been given a bigger budget and a better time frame, who knows what this film might have become. Give it a shot, you could do a lot worse.
