The comedic stylings of Jackie Vernon might not be as popular as they once were – I doubt anyone under the age of 60 even remembers his shtick – but his voice will live on forever because he provided the pipes for the eponymous Frosty the Snowman(1969), that old Rankin/Bass childhood favorite. The man had a face made for radio, and the lack of acting credits to his name proves he wasn’t exactly cut out for the land of leading men. Still, that didn’t stop him from starring in the terrible and tasteless Microwave Massacre (1983), a movie that switches between awful and entertaining so frequently you won’t be able to look away. It’s like watching a 76-minute car accident you are absolutely powerless to halt. The acting – across the board – is among the worst I have ever seen. The gore effects look like someone poured food dye on discarded mannequin parts. The editing will make you wonder if someone didn’t just cobble the footage together using a pocket knife and some old chewing gum. The story is incredibly stupid, stretching the very limits of its own ludicrous plot.
But I’ll be damned if it isn’t some of the most fun I’ve had watching a bad movie. This thing would slay with the right crowd.
Vernon stars as Donald, a construction worker who shuffles through his day afraid of what horrors lurk within his lunchbox. His wife, May (Claire Ginsberg), is a nagging wannabe gourmand who cooks up revolting dishes in her brand-new Major Electric microwave oven, all of which are easy fodder for Donald’s constant barbs. So endless is May’s needling that Donald has fantasies of killing her with a sword. Late one night, after tying one on at the local watering hole, Donald comes home and snaps, beating May to death with a comically oversized salt shaker (making sure to toss a little over his left shoulder mid-attack… you know, for good luck). When he wakes up in the morning Donald doesn’t remember a thing… until he finds May’s hacked-up corpse in the microwave. Then, for reasons only clear to Donald, he decides to set the microwave for “slow broil” before heading off to work for the day.
After putting in a long day of sitting around and chasing tail with his pals Roosevelt (Loren Schein) and Phillip (Al Troupe), Donald comes home and wraps up the parts of May’s body in foil, storing them in the garage freezer. Late at night, delirious from sleep, Donald grabs a foil-wrapped food item and begins to nosh before realizing it’s actually May’s hand. Intrigued by this new flavor, Donald begins to experiment with different ways to prepare his wife, sharing his results with the unwitting Roosevelt and Phillip at work. When his appetite increases, even though supply isn’t running low, Donald decides to go out and kill more women to satisfy his hunger.
Where to begin? I would accept any argument from even the most seasoned horror fan that this is the worst film they have ever seen. It’s that bad. But there are chunks of pyrite in this earthen turd. Some of Vernon’s one-liners are actually funny; the problem is his deadpan, monotonous delivery robs the punchline. Director Wayne Berwick basically confesses in the bonus features that each scene was a “one and done” take, due to the time constraints for each shooting location, and it seems obvious Vernon did whatever he wanted to once “action” was called. He’s like that loveable old uncle you have who constantly cracks bad jokes but every now and then one actually works.
If Vernon’s performance seems odd – and it is – his character’s journey is even weirder. Donald kills his wife in a drunken stupor; a crime of passion. May had been nagging him for presumably decades, as he recalls the last time they had sex was “April, 1962”. In his blind rage he inexplicably carved her up as well before placing the pieces of her corpse in the microwave, possibly to spite her since he hated that machine. Then he cooks her. And inadvertently eats her. He now has a taste for human flesh. Where this goes off the rails is when he decides to kill other women, this despite having a fridge absolutely filled with May’s succulent, slow-broiled body. An argument could be made this motivation was purely sexual, since Donald has no problem getting down with women so far out of his league they may as well exist in another galaxy, as long as he imagines them as food. Then again, logic doesn’t have much of a place in a film called Microwave Massacre, so…
There is a surprising amount of comedy here, too. You could say the entire film is an unintentional comedy, but there are many gags that are clearly meant to be funny. Donald’s lunch at the construction site is an entire (clearly plastic) crab, served on a bun the size of a tire. There’s a running joke about macho, muscular guys being gay. When a hobo finds an arm in Donald’s trash, rather than report it or freak out he uses the detached appendage as a scratcher for his back and balls. Women are either old nags or topless sluts. Donald makes a dish he calls “Peking chick”. At some point you have to accept this is an awful movie and try to get on Vernon’s level to ease the pain of watching him act.
This is a… special film; a mentally handicapped approximation of a slasher. It’s the kind of movie you would see during weekend runs to the local mom & pop video store and think, “Damn, that big box art looks sweet and with a title like that it has to be gold!” And, really, if you watched this at any age under 17 it probably was. I will say there are bad movies that are just horrid through and through; Microwave Massacre the very least has the luxury of being awfully entertaining in an oddly endearing sort of way.
It’s one thing for a specialty video label, in this case Arrow, to release something so awful, but it’s another thing entirely when that awful film is given such lavish treatment. The 1.85:1 1080p transfer for Microwave Massacre – in a word – beautiful. The restoration work done for such a sleazy slice of cinema rivals what major studios do with their catalog titles – in fact, the big guys could learn a thing or two from Arrow’s results. The picture is vibrant and incredibly clear, like you’re watching a Discovery Channel special called “Construction Worker Cannibals”. Given the film’s vintage and exceedingly low budget, the fact it can be made to look this good is shocking.
Audio-wise, it’s a bit less exciting. The English LPCM uncompressed 1.0 mono track is sufficient, although the sound mix is dreadful. Like the film, it comes across as choppy and amateur, lacking the polish of most feature films. Pops can be heard on occasion, and there is a slight hiss when vocals or effects register high. On the plus side, composer Leif Horvath’s synth score stands out as something done well. Subtitles are available in English SDH.
On to the bonus features, where viewers will find an audio commentary with director Wayne Berwick, “My Microwave Massacre Memoirs” featuring new interviews from the cast & crew – along with some great, hilarious anecdotes, an image gallery with behind-the-scenes and promotional photos, and the film’s trailer. Additionally, there is a booklet with an essay by Stephen Thrower and lots of color photos. The cover art is reversible, both options are
Special Features:
Brand new 2K restoration of the original camera negative
High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) and Standard Definition DVD presentations
Original Mono audio (uncompressed PCM on the Blu-ray)
Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
Brand new audio commentary with writer-producer Craig Muckler moderated by Mike Tristano
Brand new making-of featurette including interviews with Muckler, director Wayne Berwick and actor Loren Schein
Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork
First pressing only: fully-illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Nightmare USA author Stephen Thrower\
The Film:
3 out of 5
Special Features:
2 ½ out of 5
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