Horror fans can be so fickle. Every negative review I’ve read of Hellraiser: Revelations hinged on Doug Bradley not playing Pinhead for the first time in the franchise, now nine films deep. That’s a ridiculous reason to hate a movie; consider how many times they’ve assigned a new guy to be Batman or Bond. Besides, Pinhead has little more than an extended cameo in these things; he’s the Special Guest Star of his own series. So hate it for other reasons, like piss-poor acting.
Steven (Nick Eversman, Vampires Suck) and Nico (Jay Gillespie, 2001 Maniacs) are best buds, bro — “a couple of preppies reeking of privilege” (as a hobo calls them) heading from California to Mexico on a mission to get Steven’s “dick wet.” At a dingy bar, said hobo gives them that infernal puzzle box, and Nico has the bright idea to open it while shirtless, making it all the more easier for the Cenobites’ hooks, y’know.
Pinhead (Stephan Smith Collins, The Darwin Awards) makes Nico look like the strips of uncooked meat at a Mongolian barbecue. To reverse his asshole pal’s unfortunate situation, Steven must provide him with fresh souls on which to munch. Let the whore-chokin’, face-peelin’, sister-seducin’, pop-shootin’, baby-crackin’ action begin!
Truth be told, Hellraiser: Revelations ain’t that bad. For a rights-retaining rushed production made in two weeks for $300,000, it’s at least competently and professionally directed by Victor García (Mirrors 2), apparently shot at the producer’s house and on a cheap set meant to resemble a Mexico venue where one might take in a donkey show. Speaking of taking, try and look at the Revelations cover without thinking of Pinhead taking a dump. —Rod Lott