from MAINE CAMPUS, college newspaper 9/00
Hang up ‘After the Beep’
By Brad Rego
‘After
the Beep…’ an awful independent film, created by Edge Productions, is about a
troubled tabloid reporter’s investigation into a series of killings by a
murderer known as “The Twilight Slasher.”
The
reporter Angela Wood (Lynda Gordon) tortured by memories of her abusive
past-dredged up by a local psychic, who she sought out for insight into the
slasher’s identity-eventually comes to be on intimate terms, in the
pornographic sense, with the maniacal killer.
Later,
she is forced to confront her inner-demons and “The Twilight Slasher,” in a
predictable ending that leaves the audience glad the film is only 45 minutes
long. Thank heavens.
Now,
it is understood that some leeway must be allowed to amateur filmmakers as far
as technical quality is concerned, but this film goes far beyond the bounds of
merely having some sound and lighting deficiencies-though, there are, indeed,
some serious problems in those areas.
What
stands out most, apart from the poor acting, is the totally hackneyed script.
Writers
Lucas Knight and Frank Welch show absolutely no imagination in the writing. If
the characters are not speaking words that are predictable and of the
four-letter variety, they are mumbling sentences that can only be described as
trite, at best.
So,
don’t look for any actual substance in this movie-there’s none to be found.
But
then there’s the directing.
The
movie jacket describes this film as being set on a “waterfront city,” with a
murderer who “only strikes as the sun goes down,” but none of these
proclamations are ever confirmed by the action within the film.
Director
Lucas Knight leaves his audience starving for some indication that it is a
waterfront area, neglecting to provide a shot of perhaps some water. (Wait!
There is a puddle.)
But
what’s most baffling that “The Twilight Slasher” does all of his “twilight
slashing” in broad daylight! Not just once, either, but four times! All four of
his devious attempts, only two being successful, take place when the sun
appears to be at its brightest.
Yes,
it could be rationalized that the sun is always sort of going down, but
seriously, would it really have been all that difficult to wait another hour or
two before shooting? Or, at least, rename his character to something more
appropriate.
Now,
Tim Pugliese, who plays the confused “Twilight Slasher,” is first introduced as
a Bible-toting bartender who’s searching for some hope in this mixed-up
life-poor guy.
And,
of course, he finds someone “to talk-chat philosophy with,” in the form of
alcoholic Angela, in a scene that apparently was just too darned complicated to
retake.
The
smooth talking bartender then lures her into bed, for some hardcore sex,
choreographed to music that reminiscent of an eight-bit video game. It’s as if
Knight wants to take his audience to Yoshi Land’s red-light district. But it
doesn’t stop there!
At
this point, Knight finds it necessary to provide further nude shots of
Pugliese, while tackling a bathroom-mirror scene that reveals the bartender’s
struggle with Dissociative Identity Disorder.
This
scene actually shows glimpses of good acting by Pugliese, as he argues with his
alter ego.
This
is all forgotten when Knight decides to scar the audience’s retinas with a
tasteless scrotum-shot, as “The Twilight Slasher” leaps onto an empty bed, in a
frustrated attempt to do a little early-morning, nude slashing.
But,
really, this film shouldn’t even be discussed any further. The potentially
suspenseful scenes are ruined by dopey music, lethargic acting and purely
mechanical “slashing.”
The
sex scene will make even the most desensitized audience-member cringe.
The
flashbacks into Angela’s abusive teen years feature an actress that appears to
be older than the present-day Angela.
And,
for a self-proclaimed “psychological thriller,” there is never any
suspense-except in the film’s most dramatic scene, featuring a squeegee
dropping into a puddle.
Overall,
this film is an insult to any independent filmmaker with a conscience about the
quality of his work. “After the Beep…” is a cinematic disaster, undoubtedly put
together with a cheap camcorder and a small Casio keyboard.
In
order to truly grasp just how repulsive this movie really is, offended
independent filmmaker, Teddy Homer, currently working on “Twelve Steps Outside,”
offered these animated words concerning those involved in the making of “After
the Beep…,”
“They
deserve nothing. They should all be working at gas stations, and they shouldn’t
do anything else, and they should shut the f*** up.”
He
later added, “I’m not so concerned about the movie, as much as about the movie,
as much as about the fact that people that make movies like this exist. Dare I
call it a movie? – Video cassette. How dare anybody who made this film let anybody who hasn’t
seen this film, see this film? Dare I call it a film? –Video cassette”
So,
now you’re been warned. And don’t be fooled-it’s not so bad it’s funny. It’s
worse.
*Web-site Note: Now read Lucas Knight’s thoughts on this
review,
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