Farmer Vincent (Rory Calhoun) is
renowned for his exquisite smoked meats, which he claims are made
with no preservatives. Unbeknownst to his loyal customers,
however, Vincent has been mixing the pork with a healthy portion of
long pig (human flesh, for those who don’t know). As his
slogan says, “it takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer
Vincent's Fritters.” Ably assisting Vincent in both the procurement
and manufacture of his special treats is his sister Ida (Nancy
Parsons).
One night while out hunting for sausage
makings, Vincent snares a motorcyclist and his girlfriend Terry (Nina
Axelrod). The cyclist is destined for the smokehouse, but the
fiendish farmer believes he has a divine calling to take the girl
home and nurse her back to health. Terry is understandably a bit
confused when she wakes up in Vincent's home and learns that her “old
man” is not only dead but already buried, but she's put at ease
somewhat by Vince's younger brother Bruce (Paul Linke), the local
Sheriff, who assures her such hasty internments are not unheard of in
these parts.
Both Vincent and Bruce have the hots
for Terry, but she likes older men (a makeshift tombstone for her
supposedly deceased boyfriend shows him to be in his late fifties).
Despite Sheriff Bruce's best efforts at courtship, Terry finds
herself drawn to Vincent. That doesn't sit too well with Ida, who
would much rather see Terry become part of the sausage mix than the
family.
In the meantime, a pair of swingers
show up at Vincent’s hotel thanks to a personal add placed by Ida.
Faster than you can say “Oscar Meyer”, the kinky couple find
themselves planted in Vincent and Ida’s secret garden up to their
necks in dirt and with their vocal chords slit. The same fate
befalls a rock group called Ivan and the Terribles (featuring a
pre-‘Cheers’ John Ratzenberger) and a nosy health inspector.
Wolfman Jack also shows up as a televangelist, but goes uneaten.
Anchored by memorable performances from
Calhoun and Parsons, MOTEL HELL is more black comedy than
horror film, but that's fine with me. Aside from the top notch
casting, the film also benefits from a bigger budget than one might
expect. The cinematography by Thomas del Ruth, who would go on to
lens STAND BY ME among
others, gives the film a professional sheen while the orchestral
soundtrack by frequent television composer Lance Ruben adds further
class to the proceedings. And then there are the aspects of the film
that are just fun from an eighties nostalgia viewpoint, like the sort
of curious punk rock/heavy metal/new wave hybrid represented by Ivan
and the Terribles, something found only in movies of this era. Ditto
for the comically over the top swingers.
It
all culminates in a final sibling chainsaw showdown, with Vincent
wearing a pig's head for some unknown reason. Who cares if it makes
sense, though. It was an iconic image that kids too young to see the
movie nonetheless stored away after flipping through the pages of
Fangoria at their local grocery store (at least I did, and I know
more than a few others from my generation who did the same). And
then there's Vincent's final line of dialogue offering one last
ghastly chuckle like the punchline from an EC comics story. It may be a little bit long and have more than a few rough edges, but I like the movie. But don't take my word for it; this was one of a very few eighties horror flicks that Roger Ebert gave his seal of approval to.
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