Video Nasty #10
Don't Go Near The Park
1979
IT'S THE LAST PLACE YOU'LL EVER PLAY!
THEY WERE CURSED TO ETERNAL LIFE AT THE COST OF THEIR SOULS!
Alternate Titles: Nightstalker, Curse Of The Living Dead
NTSC Running Time: 83:23
NTSC Running Time: 83:23
Directed by Lawrence D. Foldes
Written by Linwood Chase and Foldes, from a story by Chase
Produced by George Foldes & Lawrence D. Foldes
Starring: Tamara Taylor, Meeno Peluce, Barbara Bain, Crackers Phinn, Linnea Quigley, Aldo Ray
Body Count: 5, plus an exploding van full of scumbags.
Availability: Region 1 DVD from Dark Sky Films.
BBFC Status
Why it's a Nasty: Attempted rape and gore!
What was cut: Nothing, it was never released in a cut form.
Current UK Status: Uncut version was awarded an 18 certificate on January 31, 2006.
UK Availability: Region 2 DVD available from Anchor Bay. Original 1981 VHS released by Intervision.
Don't Go Near The Park was seized, but escaped prosecution.
Why didn't I think of including the trailer with the review sooner? Derp.
Although it is semi-notable for being one of scream queen Linnea Quigley's earliest films (the opening credits say "Introducing"), Don't Go Near The Park is strictly amateur-hour, a film that, if it was never featured on Mystery Science Theatre 3000, damn well should have been. The script is atrocious, the pacing jumpy, the editing flawed. That doesn't mean there isn't fun to be had, however.
Here's the setup: 12,000 years ago, a prehistoric band of humans living in Griffith Park cursed two of their own, Tra and Gar (Barbara Bain and "Crackers Phinn", a nom de film for minor TV actor Robert Gribbin, respectively), to age rapidly and never die as punishment for eating the tribe's children for the purpose of stealing their youth. (You with me so far?) Their only way out: Wait 12,000 years (one full rotation of the Zodiac, according to the rotting matriarch) and then sacrifice a virgin who is half-mortal and half of their tribe. If they can accomplish this, the cannibalistic pair will gain the eternal youth they have been seeking.
11,984 years later, Gar marries and has a child with Linnea Quigley, whose character is never named. They name the child Bondi and Gar dotes on her, ignoring his wife, who served her purpose as soon as the child was born. Bondi is a daddy's-girl who has no idea that all her father wants is to kill her when she turns 16. He gives her an amulet for her Sweet 16, has a horrible fight with her mother at the party, and he leaves. Bondi is abducted by some creeps in a van who try to rape her. Her father hears her cries for help through the amulet, sends the van careening off a bridge to a fiery explosion...and teleports Bondi (Tamara Taylor) to the side of the road, from which she makes her way into the park of the title and hooks up with some other runaway kids: Nick (Meeno Peluce), an 8-year-old con artist and Cowboy, a teen boy Bondi crushes on. Also in the park is Tra, who (like Gar) feeds on entrails of local children to retain her youth.
Will Gar and Tra sacrifice Bondi to their ancient deity and capture eternal youth, reversing the ravages of time once and for all?
Don't Go Near The Park is not a classic. But like most movies, it has its' charms, and this film's charms are named Meeno Peluce. Upon first discovering Bondi asleep in the abandoned ranch house the runaways call home, he tries to put his hand in her shirt. When she wakes up and slaps at him, his response is genius:
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were alive."
Balls. Big brass balls for an eight-year-old, and a screamingly funny moment in a film that is otherwise a few ripples of muffled chuckles. I also dug the freeze-frame style the film takes when Bondi falls into a coffin in a dream sequence.
Other than that, a little bit of gore and a little bit of gratuitous nudity, all very tame. No wonder they didn't sic the OPA on this film: it would have been laughed out of the Old Bailey as harmless. When finally presented to the BBFC in early 2006, they didn't snip a frame. Not that it would have changed much, there wasn't much to trim anyway. As I tell myself whenever the least bit disappointed by a Nasty, "At least it wasn't Faces Of Death."
Given a choice between unanaesthetized rectal surgery and watching Faces again, I'd have to sleep on it.
Seriously.
Ten Nasties down! I should celebrate. With pie. Dutch Apple, cold. With a large glass of whole milk, colder. And some Girl Scout cookies. Thin Mints, frozen. I should also figure out what comes next. Maybe something with Nazis, vile. Or perhaps a werewolf, hairy.
Wherever we go next, it'll definitely be unpleasant, nihilistic, lecherous, gratuitous, gory, morbid and malevolent. It will be a place that is, as I'm sure you know, Nasty. So keep away from that fucking park. Steer clear, lest ye be disemboweled and feasted upon. I'm taking that advice too, my friends, because my name's Justin. JustinCase.
Why didn't I think of including the trailer with the review sooner? Derp.
Although it is semi-notable for being one of scream queen Linnea Quigley's earliest films (the opening credits say "Introducing"), Don't Go Near The Park is strictly amateur-hour, a film that, if it was never featured on Mystery Science Theatre 3000, damn well should have been. The script is atrocious, the pacing jumpy, the editing flawed. That doesn't mean there isn't fun to be had, however.
Here's the setup: 12,000 years ago, a prehistoric band of humans living in Griffith Park cursed two of their own, Tra and Gar (Barbara Bain and "Crackers Phinn", a nom de film for minor TV actor Robert Gribbin, respectively), to age rapidly and never die as punishment for eating the tribe's children for the purpose of stealing their youth. (You with me so far?) Their only way out: Wait 12,000 years (one full rotation of the Zodiac, according to the rotting matriarch) and then sacrifice a virgin who is half-mortal and half of their tribe. If they can accomplish this, the cannibalistic pair will gain the eternal youth they have been seeking.
11,984 years later, Gar marries and has a child with Linnea Quigley, whose character is never named. They name the child Bondi and Gar dotes on her, ignoring his wife, who served her purpose as soon as the child was born. Bondi is a daddy's-girl who has no idea that all her father wants is to kill her when she turns 16. He gives her an amulet for her Sweet 16, has a horrible fight with her mother at the party, and he leaves. Bondi is abducted by some creeps in a van who try to rape her. Her father hears her cries for help through the amulet, sends the van careening off a bridge to a fiery explosion...and teleports Bondi (Tamara Taylor) to the side of the road, from which she makes her way into the park of the title and hooks up with some other runaway kids: Nick (Meeno Peluce), an 8-year-old con artist and Cowboy, a teen boy Bondi crushes on. Also in the park is Tra, who (like Gar) feeds on entrails of local children to retain her youth.
Will Gar and Tra sacrifice Bondi to their ancient deity and capture eternal youth, reversing the ravages of time once and for all?
Don't Go Near The Park is not a classic. But like most movies, it has its' charms, and this film's charms are named Meeno Peluce. Upon first discovering Bondi asleep in the abandoned ranch house the runaways call home, he tries to put his hand in her shirt. When she wakes up and slaps at him, his response is genius:
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were alive."
Balls. Big brass balls for an eight-year-old, and a screamingly funny moment in a film that is otherwise a few ripples of muffled chuckles. I also dug the freeze-frame style the film takes when Bondi falls into a coffin in a dream sequence.
Other than that, a little bit of gore and a little bit of gratuitous nudity, all very tame. No wonder they didn't sic the OPA on this film: it would have been laughed out of the Old Bailey as harmless. When finally presented to the BBFC in early 2006, they didn't snip a frame. Not that it would have changed much, there wasn't much to trim anyway. As I tell myself whenever the least bit disappointed by a Nasty, "At least it wasn't Faces Of Death."
Given a choice between unanaesthetized rectal surgery and watching Faces again, I'd have to sleep on it.
Seriously.
Ten Nasties down! I should celebrate. With pie. Dutch Apple, cold. With a large glass of whole milk, colder. And some Girl Scout cookies. Thin Mints, frozen. I should also figure out what comes next. Maybe something with Nazis, vile. Or perhaps a werewolf, hairy.
Wherever we go next, it'll definitely be unpleasant, nihilistic, lecherous, gratuitous, gory, morbid and malevolent. It will be a place that is, as I'm sure you know, Nasty. So keep away from that fucking park. Steer clear, lest ye be disemboweled and feasted upon. I'm taking that advice too, my friends, because my name's Justin. JustinCase.
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