"Nightmares" is one of the lesser-known anthology horror films to emerge in the 1980s, and it's not surprising given the project's atypical fruition; made up of four segments, the film was essentially a way for Universal Pictures to recoup money from leftover segments of the television series "Darkroom" which was canceled by ABC in 1982. The four segments featured in the film had originally been intended for the series, but were left in the dark when the show was canceled. With bits of additional footage (mainly violence) added to plump up the segments, we get "Nightmares".
Segment one, "Terror in Topanga," stars Cristina Raines (of "The Sentinel") as a chain-smoking California housewife who runs out late at night for a carton of cigarettes; meanwhile, a murderous lunatic is on the loose. Smart move. This segment takes a jab at the classic "man in the back seat" urban legend, which would later make for the opening scene of 1998's teen slasher "Urban Legend" (I have to wonder if this film served as inspiration, to be honest). While this segment seems to get a fair amount of dislike from audiences, I have to say that it's actually my favorite. The story itself is classic, and there are some genuinely scary moments in this. It's a bit anticlimactic, sure, but Raines is great on screen, and the late-night convenient store run gone horribly awry is both relatable and scary.
Segment two, "Bishop of Battle," stars Emilio Estivez as an arcade game addict who is obsessed with reaching the mythical level 13 of the titular arcade game— little does he know that level 13 is far more real than he could ever imagine. Boasting some "Tron"-era special effects, this story is silly but perhaps the most memorable of the bunch, and highlights include Estevez's constant rocking out with his portable cassette player, and the haunting voice-over of the digital antagonist. The final scene is clever, outrageous, and still somehow unsettling at the same time.
This is followed by "The Benediction," which has Lance Henriksen as a fallen priest who leaves his Southern desert parish after renouncing the church. The problem? A pickup truck driven by Satan is on his tail. There are some great sequences in this one, including car chases and trucks emerging from under the ground. Henriksen's performance is great here and, although it's not even slightly scary, it's an entertaining ride. Comparison's to Stephen King's "Duel" are apt.
The final segment, "Night of the Rat," stars Veronica Cartwright as a suburban housewife who seems to be battling a gigantic rat in her home— it tears apart the house, kills the family cat, and one night, attempts to kill the family. While this segment is inarguably the most ridiculous of the four, it's actually a joy to watch. Cartwright is perfectly cast here and the silliness of the story is overshadowed by the level of engagement with the audience. The special effects with the blown-up, screaming mouse at the end are laughable, but how often do you see that on film? That's right, never.
Throughout each of the "Nightmares" we have here, the television production qualities shine through, but this is part of what I think makes the film so charming; it belonged on the small screen, but somehow, even gathered together as a feature film, it's still a delight to watch— kind of like a gift bag marathon of cheap '80s TV movies that get screened around Halloween time. Each segment also seems to end with some sort of moralist lesson; for Cristina Raines, it's "smoking kills"; for Estevez, it's the slippery slope forewarning of a technology-obsessed culture; for Henriksen, it's that good and evil do exist; and for Cartwright, it's that... well, I suppose even oversized rats have feelings, too.
Overall, I'd recommend "Nightmares" to fans of aforementioned '80s television films, as that's really the core audience here; stringent horror fans may be disappointed by the relative lack of scares or violence. The film is remarkably difficult to find which is unfortunate. I had to spend a pretty penny just to get a copy of Anchor Bay's now-fifteen year old DVD, as it looks like this film may not be re-released anytime soon, if ever. It's not a standout film by any means, but it's a charming piece of oddball '80s nostalgia that deserves a bit more. Bottom line: If you're up for a large dose of the TV horror of "The Breakfast Club" era, tune in; it's just like those mediocre but deliciously entertaining midnight specials of your childhood. 7/10.
Segment one, "Terror in Topanga," stars Cristina Raines (of "The Sentinel") as a chain-smoking California housewife who runs out late at night for a carton of cigarettes; meanwhile, a murderous lunatic is on the loose. Smart move. This segment takes a jab at the classic "man in the back seat" urban legend, which would later make for the opening scene of 1998's teen slasher "Urban Legend" (I have to wonder if this film served as inspiration, to be honest). While this segment seems to get a fair amount of dislike from audiences, I have to say that it's actually my favorite. The story itself is classic, and there are some genuinely scary moments in this. It's a bit anticlimactic, sure, but Raines is great on screen, and the late-night convenient store run gone horribly awry is both relatable and scary.
Segment two, "Bishop of Battle," stars Emilio Estivez as an arcade game addict who is obsessed with reaching the mythical level 13 of the titular arcade game— little does he know that level 13 is far more real than he could ever imagine. Boasting some "Tron"-era special effects, this story is silly but perhaps the most memorable of the bunch, and highlights include Estevez's constant rocking out with his portable cassette player, and the haunting voice-over of the digital antagonist. The final scene is clever, outrageous, and still somehow unsettling at the same time.
This is followed by "The Benediction," which has Lance Henriksen as a fallen priest who leaves his Southern desert parish after renouncing the church. The problem? A pickup truck driven by Satan is on his tail. There are some great sequences in this one, including car chases and trucks emerging from under the ground. Henriksen's performance is great here and, although it's not even slightly scary, it's an entertaining ride. Comparison's to Stephen King's "Duel" are apt.
The final segment, "Night of the Rat," stars Veronica Cartwright as a suburban housewife who seems to be battling a gigantic rat in her home— it tears apart the house, kills the family cat, and one night, attempts to kill the family. While this segment is inarguably the most ridiculous of the four, it's actually a joy to watch. Cartwright is perfectly cast here and the silliness of the story is overshadowed by the level of engagement with the audience. The special effects with the blown-up, screaming mouse at the end are laughable, but how often do you see that on film? That's right, never.
Throughout each of the "Nightmares" we have here, the television production qualities shine through, but this is part of what I think makes the film so charming; it belonged on the small screen, but somehow, even gathered together as a feature film, it's still a delight to watch— kind of like a gift bag marathon of cheap '80s TV movies that get screened around Halloween time. Each segment also seems to end with some sort of moralist lesson; for Cristina Raines, it's "smoking kills"; for Estevez, it's the slippery slope forewarning of a technology-obsessed culture; for Henriksen, it's that good and evil do exist; and for Cartwright, it's that... well, I suppose even oversized rats have feelings, too.
Overall, I'd recommend "Nightmares" to fans of aforementioned '80s television films, as that's really the core audience here; stringent horror fans may be disappointed by the relative lack of scares or violence. The film is remarkably difficult to find which is unfortunate. I had to spend a pretty penny just to get a copy of Anchor Bay's now-fifteen year old DVD, as it looks like this film may not be re-released anytime soon, if ever. It's not a standout film by any means, but it's a charming piece of oddball '80s nostalgia that deserves a bit more. Bottom line: If you're up for a large dose of the TV horror of "The Breakfast Club" era, tune in; it's just like those mediocre but deliciously entertaining midnight specials of your childhood. 7/10.