We hope the answer will prove totally out-of-left-field like one of the cops assigned the case ( Christopher George‘s Lt. Another is dismissed early after being shown with different shoes than the killer via a quick cut (the film still tries to milk him as a probable fit an hour later anyway). One potential candidate is easily crossed off because he’s the obvious red herring. Our only mode of engagement becomes guessing what character is behind it.Įnter the plot flubs, randomness, and abject stupidity. The victims are relatively nameless, the motivation to pick them simply a byproduct of convenience. From there another murder and then another. The interstitial displaying “Forty Years Later” disappears and we move directly to another death at the end of a chainsaw. And we never learn how his switch from assumedly regular citizen to maniac was flipped. We never find a connection between this new town and the old one. We never hear anymore about his father or aunt-both specifically mentioned by the woman who found his mother’s head in the closet. Overlong (and I mean overlong) segues showing the “Man in Black” putting that old puzzle together become our only link to his past. Where has he been? Apparently living a normal life.
The prologue becomes inconsequential beyond inferring that the boy is now inexplicably seeking to re-make his mother with body parts of fresh victims. Rather than construct a history for this killer and give us something substantive, they remove his identity altogether. Unfortunately, that’s not what Randall, Loyola, and Simón care to provide. Fast-forward forty years and we settle in our seats to wait and see what triggers this now grown-up predator to kill again-if he ever stopped. She screams threats of murder (“You’ll become just like your father!”) and he replies with an ax.Īdd the psychopathic genius of his playing the victim for police to not raise suspicion beyond a homicidal intruder sparing his life and the set-up truly captivates. The imagery is disquieting as he puts each piece in his mouth while singing “Humpty Dumpty” and chaos ensues when Mom catches what he’s doing. You don’t have to look further than the effective opening scene depicting a young boy on his bedroom floor putting together an X-rated jigsaw puzzle to see potential. While they have a handle on crafting an intriguing mythology to build upon, their execution of its present-day relapse is all over the place. What makes Pieces so bad is the script from Dick Randall and Roberto Loyola (aka “John Shadow”). If the problem was just bad acting, I could look beyond it. Sadly that’s all I could do while watching Juan Piquer Simón‘s Mil gritos tiene la noche. When a film is desperate to deliver dramatic terror, it craves a reaction that isn’t simply me rolling my eyes. The opposite is true for the latter as my laughter arrives at the detriment of what the filmmakers hoped to accomplish. Since laughter and fear go hand-in-hand (just listen to the giggles following most jump scare jolts of shock), it enhances what’s happening rather than distracts. I appreciate the former because the comedy is intentionally applied for enjoyment. The disconnect lies between those laughing at themselves and those that aren’t.
While I often see the appeal, I don’t always find them winning me over. The book says get the killer.”Ĭult classic horrors are a special breed. Studio: Internacional Films Distribución / Artists Releasing Corporation / Film Ventures International Rating: NR | Runtime: 89 minutes | Release Date: August 23rd, 1982 (Spain)
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