Pumpkinhead

Toward the end of the '80s, special effects artists had literally get gods. They had instigated and then escorted in the genre revisionism of the geological era, while pickings their physical art form as far as the pre-computer years would reserve. Such names as Tom Savini, Rob Bottin, Chris Walas, and Kevin Yeager were all championed by a burgeoning collection of horror geeks giddy o'er their latex paint and Kayro skill correct. By 1988, the recent Stan Winston was as well a member of this visionary Valhalla. His play on Terminator, Aliens, and Predator made him a creature-creating b. B. King. And as with many in his order, it was thinking he could translate his talent into the field of view of guiding. Pumpkinhead proven them right.


Ed Harley (Lance Henriksen) is a single father functional a pocket-size grocery store along the outskirts of town. He loves his little boy Billy (Matthew Hurley) and dotes over him ceaselessly. When a group of teenagers wander into ithiel Town, motorcycles in tow, Harley senses trouble. Sure enough, an fortuity involving his son turns fatal. Devastated, our parent turns to a bushwhacker family for help. Seems they know the whereabouts of a legendary hag who tin can unleash a vengeful spirit known as Pumpkinhead. Knowing he volition never pillow until something is done, Harley makes the necessary blood sacrifice, and unleashes the deadly demon. Little does he know that while his boy will be avenged, his own soul is in mortal danger.


Relying heavily on both rural folklore and yet another leading performance from B-movie maverick Henriksen, Pumpkinhead is a near classical monster movie. Filled with mood and atmosphere, it only suffers from a limited production budget and Winston's relation inexperience behind the camera. Clearly, the F/X whiz understands the basics of the genre. We get voodoo black magic, late night visits to a fog-covered burial ground, the standard array of aggressive adolescents, and one helluva of a beastie. With its firm storytelling and attention to art blueprint and detail, what we wind up with is an supra average attack at transcending the Greed decade's fast, cheap, and cheesy fright ideals.


It's impossible to tell enough good things almost Henriksen. He owns every aspect of this film, his emotional depth providing the grief, the madness, and the regret that comes with his actions. Though many consider him a sultan of shlock, the role player actually got his take up in high profile transportation such as Dog Day Afternoon, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and The Right Stuff. Yet thanks to his work with James Cameron (where, oddly enough, he met Winston), he has suit synonymous with movie sick -- and that rattling doesn't do him justice. As Ed Harley, Henriksen comes off as poor, proud, and protective of what he has. When his only child is taken from him, his reaction is so nuanced and natural that we'd buy any response -- including a 10-foot-tall terror sprung straight from his id.


While the teen characters are comparatively interchangeable, Winston does a good job of reconciliation their sloppiness with consideration. A duet of the gals even challenge the boys for their reckless ways. But once the title devil is unleashed, the photographic film has to rely on the customary shocks and nighttime action scenes to get by. It's a testament to Winston's underlying talent that he manages to pull them off with small logistical error. Indeed, without his involvement behind the lens and Henriksen's in front, Pumpkinhead would have been a serviceable if subpar monster-on-the-loose exercise. But thanks to both of these certified creepshow legends, what could be platitudinous comes off as hideous, and quite honorable.