Starring: Ashley Laurence, Clare Higgins, Kenneth Cranham, Imogen Boorman, Doug Bradley, William Hope.
Director: Tony Randel.
"Jesus. Wept."
With those lines, brought in from the original film, director Tony Randel starts off his more action-packed follow-up to Clive Barker's visually fascinating love letter to sado-masochism and weird make-up effects. Randel came from a visual effects background, and it definitely shows: Randel focuses all of his efforts on making everything LOOK fantastic. To his credit, he mostly handles the other stuff well, too.
The most interesting element of Hellbound is probably the decision to make Pinhead (or, Lead Cenobite for the purists...he is never called Pinhead, except maybe in passing in one of the later sequels...I think someone tries to be cute by insulting him with the name) the anchor for the entire thing. That isn't to say he's the star-far from it, in fact-as he's really only given another fifteen to twenty minutes of screen time, but two of the most pivotal scenes (perhaps the most emotionally poignant ones) focus entirely on the character and his own personal rules and philosophies...and feelings.
Actually, the star of the whole thing is probably Clare Higgins again. Kirsty(Ashley Laurence) is still our heroine, but Wicked Stepmother Julia is almost certainly our lead, not mention our primary antagonist. Our story does what a lot of the best sequels always do: Pick up where the previous story left off and attempt to expand and extend the story in a natural, logical way. In this case: Kirsty has been taken by the authorities-who are pretty baffled by the multiple murders and Kirsty's story involving hell, demons and her creepy resurrected Uncle-to the Chenard Institute for observations.
Kirsty gains some sympathy from the Lead Detective (who seems like an honestly decent enough guy, actually: I wish we got more of him) and from Young Doctor Kyle (who obviously kinda wants to give Kirsty a very different sort of treatment, if you get what I mean...). Kirsty witnesses a young mute girl solving puzzles named Tiffany, and then a skinless man she interprets to be her Father writing I AM IN HELL HELP ME in blood on the wall. Honestly, it's probably what I'd write, too, under those circumstances.
There's some wonderful-if not a little cliched-contrast going on with the presentation of the Chenard Institute. Outside, it is heavenly looking: it's a sprawling, bright, white structure that positively glows on the (presumably) British countryside, surrounded and brightened further by healthy green topiary. Chenard walks through his gorgeous courtyard, through the mostly benign halls of beds with disheveled but not entirely unhealthy looking patients sitting mildly...and then Chenard enters the bowels of the place: an industrial, sweating hulk filled with writhing masses and cramped cells. It's actually a pretty deliberate homage to Dante-in-reverse: Paradiso, Purgatory(the patient in the room even makes a crack about Chenard not remembering his name even after a hundred years), and Inferno(complete with an inmate who constantly sees himself covered in swarms of insects). It's clever stuff, possibly far more literate than many horror films go.
Chenard is obviously up to no good-the very interesting performance by actor Kenneth Cranham isn't exactly a subtle one-which is made all the more evident when Kyle finds that his mentor has some sort of weird hell shrine...and then watches as said Mentor gives a straight razor to his bugged-out(get it?) patient to carve himself up with...all on the bloody mattress from Kirtsy's crime scene.
Body horror really is the name of the game in this film, starting with the very intense and startling scene I just mentioned: a man carving up his flesh for what seems like ten minutes of screen time. This is followed by the extraordinary looking scene of Julia-now a skinless monster-assaulting said maniac. It's an incredibly effective sequence, and highly predatory: it even has this weird primal, jungle beat music throughout. Kyle witnesses the whole thing from behind a curtain, his face mirroring that of the audience...which is a blessing, because it could have easily become campy(and still very nearly does)or silly. What also helps the sell the whole gory affair is how repulsed Chenard is. It's clear that this is the sort of thing he's been waiting a very long time for, but is horrified when he actually sees it...though my read on the performance has less to do with the reality of it but how...dirty...it all is.
Clare Higgins is a real sport with that make-up: full body suit, dripping with artificial blood. She even describes herself as "strange. surreal. nightmarish." I swear that I'm getting more squeamish in my old age because, despite my having seen this film probably more times than I can reasonably count, for some reason her appearance is actually affecting me. Her seduction of Chenard may be one of the most truly unsettling sequences in film: she's wrapped up in full-body gauze, she dances slowly with Chenard with nary a word spoken...he lifts up her dress, touching her gross, exposed nerves...everything she touches, including his body, becomes covered in a smeared red goop. It's so...exactly what she said: Strange, Surreal, and Nightmarish. I'm not even entirely sure words can possibly do it justice.
Poor Kyle. You just don't last long. It's an interesting triumph of function over form, though: Kirsty doesn't really need a love interest, and Tiffany ultimately ends up being a much better foil for her later on. Kyle provides a functional audience proxy until Kirsty is able to jump into the narrative fully formed. Then Julia firmly establishes herself as the "evil queen"(part of the fairy tale motif the movie toys with but never seems to commit to one hundred percent, but it is present) by taking something from Kirsty, and we can get on with the show.
The fairy tale motif...we might as well talk about it now. The film opens with the discussion between Kirsty and The Detective about fairy tales: The Detective is tired of hearing them, seeing them as excuses, while Kirsty asserts that some of them do come true, just only the bad ones. Julia is referenced as both a wicked stepmother and an evil queen, and refers to Kirsty as Snow White. Even as Tiffany opens the box the score sneaks in some flutes, which lends it a fantasy feel. Even the central plot is mostly a twisted version of The Wizard of Oz or Alice In Wonderland: characters enter a world that is fantastic and magical, even as it is profoundly dangerous and horrific. Tiffany(looking very much like the aforementioned Alice) enters hell and finds herself in a carnival-almost a "wonderland" if you'd like-where she is confronted by funhouse mirrors which show her deeper pain and cause of her psychosis in a manner that mocks her. We see that there is magic, and illusion, and it's even playful: it's just entirely against the explorer.
Hell is so wonderfully rendered, even if it is mostly just dark hallways...but the wide lens shots, showcasing some really extraordinary mat paintings and miniatures-patterned after a lot of M.C. Esher-are breathtaking. I almost wish I could see them on a big screen.
I had mentioned earlier that a lot of this film rides on the strength of its visual effects, and I wasn't kidding. The sudden flashes in Chenard's head(the bright red room, the blood, the brains) is this fantastic shock of imagery, followed by the creative devices that envelope, torture and ultimately overtake the good Doctor. It's worst sin is that it might look a little dated to a younger viewer, but it's really fantastic stuff.
The scene of Frank's return, the sensual nature of his candlelit hell, and his aggressive sexual intimidation of Kirsty would be right at home in Barker's original film, but largely seems out of place here. The scene actual descends into some pretty dumb territory, and seems like it was only included because they felt it needed to be. It was a base that needed covering (it does show who sent Kirsty the message, since her finding her Father would actually present some sort of resolution, which is anathema to this particular franchise), but it just doesn't entirely work. It feels very much like a moment that jumps the shark for the film as well(a term I've never been very comfortable using, but it does apply here): I heard somewhere that there's a documentary detailing how Clare Higgins left the production which necessitated the need to re-write the final act without her involvement. As such, a lot of things kinda fall apart here at the end of it all...despite a wonderful line read by Chenard: "To think. I hesitated."
Of course, he follows this with "The Doctor is in" which...boy, we didn't need that, or any of his villanous puns. Tiffany finding her voice with "shit" has it's charms, though.
If nothing else, the last act features what is probably my favorite Pinhead scene. Bradley gives an excellent performance when Kirsty hands him a photo of his past life: at first it's just a glimpse of recognition, of thought, and then it expands. Both he and the Female Cenboite(Barbie Wilde, not ever given enough credit) give some wonderful facial expressions underneath all of their prosthetics, as they realize with not a little horror that their identities were taken from them...and then Chenard shows up. It's my favorite moment in the series, if not one of my favorites in horror history, because it's a moment of real humanity in a monster: Pinhead and his troops take one moment to take in the scenario and then decide to turn on this new interloper. Chenard makes quick work of them(accentuated by a very nice moment when Tiffany witnesses Chatter's demise...and sees that he was once a child), leaving only Pinhead. Pinhead looks at Chenard, looks back at Kirsty and Chenard removes his signature look, leaving him his mortal self. Now human, Pinhead looks at Kirsty once more, and she looks back at him with a look of pride. So proud of his small revolution that she nearly misses his subtle intimiation that she really ought to be running for it. It's easily the most emotional sequence in the flick, existing at it's core...really kind of grounds things, and helps us understand the greater mythos just a little more.
Y'know, there's a slight sense that maybe...Kirsty wasn't able to rescue her Father, but in freeing Pinhead, maybe she kinda did save someone after all?
The thing that sticks out of Chenard's head looks like a big dong. Just saying. I'm sure that isn't an accident.
As is almost inevitable for a film on this scale, things all but completely fall apart from there. The conceit of Tiffany solving the puzzle box more or less makes sense, even if it isn't entirely earned and feels very much like it was a course-correct. I'm impressed at Kirsty's ability to so handily toss on someone else's skin.
Final Thoughts: Despite a somewhat frustrating ending, Hellbound offers some great moments and some really intelligent and thought-provoking themes and motifs throughout. A few minor, but fascinating literary references, some fun fairy tale motifs, a boatload of excellent visuals, interesting characters...and very little plot. The good that it offers far outweighs the bad. To think, I hesitated.
Final Rating: Three Stars.
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