Cold Fusion Video Reviews

• Directed by Dennis Petersen and Devin Hamilton
• Written by Devin Hamilton
• Starring
  • Debbie Rochon
  • Danny Wolske
  • Allen Nabors
  • Orly Tepper
  • Ronnie Gene Blevins
• Produced by Jennifer Kessler
• Executive produced by Charles Band

During the period when Charles Band was producing features through his “Shadow Entertainment” company, he had abandoned a lot of the signature style, in terms of genre and subject matter, which had characterized (and would again characterize) his output under the Full Moon label. Part of the reason is that he literally could no longer afford himself; the budgets for his DTV features had gotten so ridiculously low that his time was more productively spent working the distribution and finance side of the business, and relegating the production particulars almost entirely to a stable of young and hungry filmmakers who had come up through the trenches of micro-budget production. (This is usually thought of as the “Tempe-era” of films, but Band was also writing the checks for productions via other channels, either partly or wholly separate from Tempe Entertainment.) In one sense this was a good move, as the typical Full Moon flick had fallen so far in the estimation of fans that churning out even more of the same would have resulted in even further diminished returns; it also resulted in surprisingly good movies outside the normal Full Moon spectrum, such as Speck (2002) or Dead & Rotting (2002). On the other hand, whatever brand loyalty mays have remained effectively evaporated, as the renters now had absolutely no idea what to expect from a Band-produced flick in terms of subject matter or storyline. Which probably justifies the use of the “Shadow Entertainment” label as much as any behind-the-scenes corporate machinations.

Even a quick look at the cast list for Bleed reveals the very different appeal that this latter cadre of directors and producers hoped to generate. Unlike Band himself and his older partners and employees, who had trickled down to the world of low-budget B-movies from higher in the food chain, the new crop of filmmakers came from the underground of indie genre film production, where a name like Debbie Rochon is well-known. Include “special appearances” by Julie Strain, Brinke Stevens, and Lloyd Kaufman, and you know that they were hoping to catch the attention of a special breed of cult movie aficionado, instead of the average rental-rack customer. And the fact that the movie is a middle-of-the-road slasher-thriller, with no supernatural elements or mad science or even doll-sized critters running around… This ain’t your father’s Full Moon.

“Doo-de-doo… de-doo…”

This is pretty clearly shown by the pre-credits scene: A couple of guys leave a party, more than a little drunk, and split up to find their vehicles. (Making things more interesting is the fact that both were dressed in drag for a costume party.) One of them is met near his car by a figure in black coveralls and a white plastic mask, who lays him open with a knife from neck to groin.

Elsewhere: Rochon plays Maddy, a single woman just starting a new job at Generic Office Place under well-mannered hunk Shawn (Danny Wolske). (No mention is ever made of the company’s name or nature of business, but judging from all the framed poster lingering on the walls of most shots, I’d have to say they were in the business of distributing Full Moon movies.) Maddy’s intelligent, personable, and more than a little introverted, but Shawn’s enough of an all-American good-natured type that he soon gets into her affections, and soon thereafter into her pants. (The fact that he is technically her superior at work, and that therefore any such relationship is strictly verboten by the standards of workplace sexual harassment laws, is never alluded to, even obliquely.)

By the weekend, Shawn’s ready to show her around to his friends at a pool party. By the end of the evening, the guest list has dropped to Shawn, Maddy, and the four friends in Shawn’s tight circle: Chris (Allen Nabors), the class clown of the group, and… um… three others, a guy and two girls. Their genericism shouldn’t be counted against the movie, though; it’s certainly more realistic than the “one jock, one brain, one slut, etc.) character profiles that inhabit too many horror movies, with no reason for such disparate characters to maintain a relationship. Here, it’s a bunch of young professionals who look good in bathing suits, and everyone’s related by being a current or former co-worker or roommate or paramour. It’s Friends Lite.

“Honey, relax! They look perfectly real — honest!”

Anyway, once in the hot tub, Chris broaches the subject of their little secret club — the “Murder Club.” According to Shawn and all of his enthusiastic friends, they’ve been longtime participants in a little thrill-ride system that starts with theft, moves on to armed robbery, and culminates in murder of random victims. Maddy finds herself caught between disbelief and a strange fascination for the idea.

Because Maddy is something of a disturbed puppy. She wakes up screaming and gasping all the time, and at quiet moments hears the hateful voice of her mother in her head calling her “slut” and “murderer.” Which is why, when Maddy gets into a parking-garage argument over a door ding with the World’s Thinnest-Skulled Woman that ends bloodily, she wavers between disgust at what she’s done, and a triumphant declaration to Shawn that she’s a full-fledged member now.

One one problem: There is no Murder Club. They made it up. Shawn doesn’t immediately tell her, but she overhears him on the phone because the doors in their office suite are possibly even thinner than the skull of the World’s Thinnest-Skulled Woman. Shawn’s friends are flabbergasted that she took them seriously, and while I can agree that the idea that a bunch of career-minded yuppies are so bored that they use bloodshed as their hobby, I do need to point out three things:

Once again, thanks go out to the entire corn sweetener industry.

1. They didn’t sound as a group as if they were bullshitting. Everyone’s story jibed with everyone else’s. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment gag; they would have had to practice it. So they shouldn’t blame Maddy if they proved successful.
2. Is this something they pulled out special for Maddy, or is this a gauntlet through which every new prospective boy/girlfriend is run? What, exactly, were they looking for as a reaction? I mean, the only viable responses are either complete disbelief, disgust and horror, or enthusiasm to join up. None of which are what I’d call “positive.”
3. Remember the guy who got slaughtered in drag before the opening credits? He worked at Generic Office Place; in fact, it was his position that Shawn filled, leaving his old job for Maddy. (The guy’s girlfriend, played by Julie Strain, also got killed by the white-masked killer — worth mentioning because, since this is Julie Strain, she spent her minute on screen topless.) With real murder so close to their circle of friends, it seems a little ghoulish to be using murder-for-fun as their basis for a prank.

So Shawn and the ersatz Murder Club have a choice: Do they go to the police? Do they tell Maddy it was all a gag? Or do they play along, letting Maddy think she’s “one of them” when she’s really the only murderer among them? The problem, obviously, is that they have to be unanimous in their decision, because if one of them decides to go to the police alone, not only will Maddy be sent up the river, but the rest of them could easily be charged as accomplices after the fact. And unbeknownst to them, Maddy’s been following and listening from a distance, to find out what they plan to do with her.

Could be worse, Debbie. You could be in one of the movies whose poster art graces the walls of the office.

Oh, and in case they don’t have troubles enough, the white-masked killer is still at large, and keeps killing people connected to the Murder Club — first some of the other guests at the pool party, then members of the Club itself. (Does an extension cord with its plug end cut off carry enough juice to electrocute someone in the average suburban-sized swimming pool?? I’m doubtful, but it’s unlikely I’ll explore my concerns experimentally.)

Now. The first half of the movie has its problems, but it sets up an interesting scenario. But the last twenty minutes or so ride right off the rails, right about at the point where Maddy starts accusing Shawn of being the killer, based on circumstantial evidence so flimsy as to be transparent. (Granted, as audience members, we’re used to the most unlikely possible suspect being the real killer, but the character of Maddy presumably doesn’t know she’s in a movie.) And the suddenness with which Maddy reaches that conclusion shows up the major flaw: We really don’t know Maddy at all.

Debbie Rochon is probably one of the most skilled actresses stuck in the micro-cult cinema ghetto, and she can bring a well-written character to life very effectively. But Maddy is inconsistent and vaguely-sketched; rather than being the viewpoint character as one would structurally assume her to be, she remains a cipher to the point where we don’t know if she’s accusing Shawn honestly, or whether she’s trying to throw others off her own trail. Her trauma is eventually shown to be over an abortion she had, and her parents’ (Brinke Stevens and Lloyd Kaufman) reaction to it, since they’re “Jesus people” — which, in movie shorthand, means that they’re vindictive hypocrites who care only what the other members of their congregation would think. That’s traumatic, I’m sure, but it doesn’t explain Maddy’s sudden violence in the parking garage, or her placid acceptance of her boyfriend and his friends as murderers.

“Okay, now I just have to hold this steady while the epoxy sets…”

And then, when the real killer is revealed… I have no intention of spoiling it, but I must declare that my reaction was one of flat disbelief. To make such a revelation work, this character’s personality had to be so different for the last ten minutes than it had been up to that point that I felt cheated. It’s a cheap way to treat the audience, after they’ve played along for over an hour already.

I have to give those in charge kudos for putting together a very different film than had been Charles Band’s standard product; I can’t fault the impulse. More than anything, Bleed resembles an Italian giallo, only without the visual experimentation for which the best of that genre is known. Unfortunately, the gialli’s main strength was in their visuals; their plots often made little or no sense, and in that respect, Bleed is like followed too closely.

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 8 (plus 1 in the DVD’s deleted scenes)
• breasts: 8
• male butts: 3
• explosions: 0
• dream sequences: 3
• ominous thunderstorms: 0
• springloaded boyfriends: 1
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0 (co-director Dennis Peterson worked as a sound recordist on DS9, Voyager, and Enterprise, but that doesn’t quite count)