In the trend to transplant public-domain characters into scary scenarios, Popeye the Slayer Man has made its bold debut.
Directed by Robert Michael Ryan and scripted by John Doolan (from a story by Ryan Cuyle Carvin and Jeff Miller), Slayer Man commences like a 1980s, VHS slasher flick (e.g., Edge of the Ax and Unmasked Part 25), the wise-cracking, splattered trail coming via a young man named Dexter, played by Sean Michael Conway, who wants to make a Blair Witch-type documentary about a spectral sailor, portrayed by Jason Robert Stephens, who haunts the derelict Anchor Bay Cannery. Dexter attracts friends, foes and interlopers during his journalistic venture (portrayed by Elena Juliano's Olivia, Mabel Thomas' Katie, Sarah Nicklin's Adrienne, Jeff Thomas' Seth, Angela Lucio's Margot, Steven McCormack's Joe, Scott Swopes' Angus, Joel Formeta's Miguel and Maria Louise Boisnier's Lisa, with Doug Decker doing a variant Crazy Ralph), but by invading the sequestered turf, its salty antagonist is left no recourse but to strike. (Some who die are mutilated right before our eyes, though for the most part, it's just their remains that are put on display to creep us out. Either way, gorehounds should be pleased, and as for the squeamish, they'd be smart to stay away.)
As far as the plot's parenthesizing segments goes, a short-fused CEO, Richard Lounello's Lex Alistair, wants to tear down the dock-relegated factory (its reputation having been tarnished by spinach contamination) to initiate an urban-upgrade scheme, staging the guy as a fleeting (if not misleading), Lee J. Cobb kingpin. Slayer Man, however, is no On the Waterfront, and even when its tensions reach their stormy summit, the violent content remains humble at heart. Therefore, in the eyes of some, Slayer Man may be worth dismissing for its straightforwardness, but its simple formula woven through countless, tried-and-true marauding-maniac fables, only in this instance, it's a cartoon, spinach-fueled, pipe-puffing hero who's been turned against his chipper, moral grain.
As the movie's antagonist, Steven's Popeye resembles his namesake and utters the expected one-liners, but his embodiment is still in flux. There are times when he invokes Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers and Leatherface, but the slayer's antics could just as well have sprung from Rondo Hatton. In this respect, perhaps a Creeper/Brute Man revival would have proven as viable, considering the movie's many Hatton-esque, outta-the-shadows setups.
The filmmakers could have also opted for a more-or-less standard take of E.C. Segar's iconic characters, transporting them to a modern platform (as was done with the live-action Fat Albert and The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle), but with the likes of Winne the Pooh: Blood and Honey and Peter Pan's Neverland Nightmare hitting the market, the sensationalized slasher path probably seemed more a guaranteed win.
Whether one buys the radical departure, this killer Popeye "is what he is." For those curious about his virulent alteration, the movie is available on Tubi and won't cost any more than one's time, if one's inclined to invest in it. (In my estimation, it certainly can't hurt to give Slayer Man a try.)
No comments:
Post a Comment