(1982) Written and directed by Frank Henenlotter; Starring: Kevin Van Hentenryck, Terri Susan Smith, Beverly
Bonner, Robert Vogel, Diana Browne and Lloyd Pace; Available on Blu-ray and DVD
Rating: ***½
“Duane Bradley is such a charming character with a really
nasty, sadistic streak in him. And I really like how Kevin’s (Van Hentenryck)
wide-eyed innocence gets nasty in this.” – Frank Henenlotter (from 2001 DVD
commentary)
“…And you know what else? He talks to me, up here. Without
words. I just hear him whispering to my brain. Sometimes he talks for hours and
won’t shut up. I used to be able to talk to him like that, but that’s when we
were still connected…” – Duane Bradley (Kevin Van Hentenryck)
We’ve all probably met or know about family members that are
a little too close for comfort. If not for one, the other might have a fighting
chance to lead a happy, well-adjusted life (In theory, of course. If you know
someone who’s happy and well-adjusted, please alert me.). Writer/director Frank
Henenlotter, one of the true independents, presents for our enjoyment, a
twisted tale of co-dependency and revenge, which takes the term “brother’s
keeper” quite literally. Shot in 16 mm on a $33,000 budget (according to
producer Edgar Ievins), Henenlotter filmed Basket
Case* in New York City without permits, off and on over the course of a
year. Because of the production’s miniscule budget, he wore numerous hats,
pitching in for gore effects, stop-motion animation, and cinematography.
* Fun Fact: upon the film’s initial theatrical release,
distributor Analysis Films removed the sequences containing blood and gore,
marketing the film as a comedy. In his DVD commentary, Henenlotter credited
former New York Times columnist Joe Bob Briggs with championing the release of Basket Case in its original,
unadulterated form.
Duane Bradley (Kevin Van Hentenryck), has just arrived in
the big city, and carries around a large wicker basket, prompting the
inevitable question “What’s in the basket?” The few individuals who find out wish
they hadn’t. Duane seems harmless enough after he checks into a seedy hotel,* but
he harbors a sinister purpose – to exact bloody revenge against Drs. Needleman,
Kutter and Lifflander (Lloyd Pace, Diana Browne and Bill Freeman), the
physicians that conspired with his father to separate him from his deformed conjoined
twin, Belial. In a gory flashback sequence, we have a front row seat to the covert
surgical procedure. Duane recuperates in bed, while his brother is
unceremoniously discarded in the trash. Duane and Belial share a psychic bond (with
the exceptions of grunts and the occasional shriek, Belial is essentially mute),
with each experiencing the other’s feelings.
* Fun Fact: Contrary to popular reports, there was no Hotel
Broslin (the myth is perpetuated, thanks to the end credits, thanking the staff
and tenants of the Hotel Broslin). The “hotel’s” exterior was actually the lead
actor’s apartment building, with a prop neon sign added.
Kevin Van Hentenryck is perfectly cast as Duane, quiet,
gawky and socially awkward. Duane does terrible things, but we’re with him
anyway. When he falls for Dr. Needleman’s receptionist Sharon (Terry Susan
Smith*), we want him to escape the crushing shadow of his brother, get the girl,
and lead a normal life. We know this isn’t in the cards for Duane, but we’re
secretly rooting for him.
* Fun fact: Smith sports an unconvincing wig in the film,
because she had her head shaved for a punk band.
The practical effects are quaint by today’s standards, but
they do the job, adding to the film’s considerable charm. Due to the limited
range of movement for the Belial puppet, some of his actions were rendered in
crude stop motion.* Considering the level of his deformity he really gets
around, leaping on the faces of people foolish enough to take a peek inside the
basket. Arguably, Belial gets around a little too well, but it’s one of those
things you don’t pause to think about too much.
* Let’s face it, folks, Henenlotter is no Harryhausen, but
in his words, he “had the patience level of a gnat.”
Basket Case works
well at face value, as a story about a “malignant Jack-in-the-box” (in
Henenlotter’s words), or as a metaphor for sibling enmeshment, taken to an
extreme. Belial doesn’t want to share
his brother with anyone else, and becomes a rage-filled id monster. Of course,
being regarded as a monster is strictly in the eye of the beholder. He never
had the opportunity for any semblance of normalcy when he was viewed as something
less than human from birth (the only ones that treat him with any compassion
are his brother and aunt). It’s not nature that made him a monster, but the
experiences that shaped his behavior. For Belial, becoming a monster was merely
a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Henenlotter did so much with so little, introducing the
world to everyone’s favorite homicidal parasitic twin. Sure, Basket Case is rough around the edges,
but the flaws only make it more endearing. Filled with humor and little quirky
touches (Beverly Bonner shines as Duane’s concerned neighbor), it’s an example
of low budget horror done right. In Henenlotter’s words, “It holds up because
it’s a real piece of perverted nonsense.” Basket
Case gained its small but dedicated fan base, thanks to a simple but unique
premise, told with minimal restraint. It’s got it all: a warped story, idiosyncratic
characters, greed, lust, sex, blood and gore. What more could you want?
