|
DISCONNECTED (1983)
Directed by Gorman Bechard
Active Home Video VHS
Reviewed 11.01.06
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba
THE FILM
Alicia works in a video store. Her
apartment is decorated with a poster
for the film Neighbors
and a novelty bust of Groucho Marx.
She listens to lo-fi, Squeeze-esque
powerpop.
I think I'm in love. At least, for
most of the time.
For exactly half of its running
length, Disconnected gets
fresh. It's Driller Killer
for the 'burbs; sparse, experimental,
mysterious and grotty, yet obviously
forged with timid hands. The first
feature from still active writer/director
Gorman Bechard (Psychos In Love,
Cemetery High), Disconnected
is an unique and consuming experience
in zero budget, early 80s weirdness.
Again -- for most of the time. At
some point, the script ran out of
pages, but everyone kept shooting.
Vague charms went stale as events
churned on like a broken record.
Somebody smash that goddamned phone!
An old man uses the telephone at
Alicia's apartment. He leaves. Nighttime.
The cops are searching for a sex-killer,
whom they dub "The Slasher".
Alicia hangs out at a bar with sister
Barbara Ann (dual action from the
terrific Frances Raines), boyfriend
Mike, and some other guy. The aforementioned
powerpoppers rip through an entire
song. Is Mike sleeping with Barbara
Ann? Strange telephone noises and
eavesdropping conversations tell
Ms. A: YES. Meanwhile, femme-creepoid
Franklin pines for Alicia at her
video store. They date. He has a
secret. Scary telephone skronk-ringing
is relentless. Eventually, Alicia
does smash the phone, but
it's too late. For her and for us.
Mourn the build up; curse the ending.
Disconnected had it so
right. Unlike the shameless wanking
of The
Jar, this is an artsy,
bedroom horror-thriller that tinkers
in the midst of an unsettling set-up.
Ambient noises, crazed camera placements,
and sudden, unexplained editing
tricks work well with the cold visuals,
skewed sex, and splattery creep-outs.
Acting is surprisingly earnest.
The Autumn flavor is in full swing.
That's why the derailment left me
so mopey. There's no pay-off, no
explanation. Just a repetitive series
of questions that get less and less
intriguing as the climax comes 'round.
When it does hit, answers are completely
withheld. Trash films can thrive
within loose ends, but Disconnected,
at least initially, was clearly
better than that. Kind of a pity.
It was nice knowing you, Alicia.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
A little shabby. The print is clean,
but low on color saturation and
high on contrast. Clarity was a
no show. The mono sound was extremely
muffled, making dialogue often hard
to understand. Normally, all of
this would be right up my alley,
but the film's difficult leanings
didn't need any help.
EXTRAS
Zippo.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Disconnected is a distinct
alternative to most every other
indie horror film from this era.
Yet, it's not fully formed or fleshed
out, which leads to a slight let-down.
Still worth seeing for the interested.
Thanks to Eric Robitaille for
providing a copy of this film! |
Mi casa es su casa
Alicia can do it
Depression sets in
Red grime
|
