Much of the promotional material for A Return to Salem’s Lot features the caped, grotesque figure of Barlow, the head vampire from Tobe Hooper’s adaptation of the Stephen King novel ’Salem’s Lot. Fans of that 1979 TV miniseries will be disappointed to learn, however, that Barlow does not actually appear in the sequel, which strays pretty far from King’s source material.

Written and directed by Larry Cohen, creator of satirical horrors It’s Alive, Q: The Winged Serpent and The Stuff, among others, the film teases a few interesting ideas about the origins (and symbolism) of vampires in society, but never fully ties these concepts together.

The plot follows anthropologist Joe Weber (frequent Cohen collaborator Michael Moriarty), who must look after his troubled, foul-mouthed yuppie son, Jeremy (Ricky Addison Reed, in his only onscreen role). The father and son decide to restore a house left to Joe by his deceased Aunt Clara in the little town of Salem’s Lot, Maine.

They of course quickly learn that the townsfolk are all vampires, led by Judge Axel (Andrew Duggan), and they have a proposal for Joe: Study their ways and create a “Vampire Bible” to formally introduce the oldest race of creatures to the rest of the world. Joe appreciates the anthropological implications of this proposal, but isn’t sure about helping the bloodsuckers out.

Meanwhile, the vampire children of Salem’s Lot, primarily Amanda (a young Tara Reid), tempt Jeremy with a life of eternal youth, and a crusty Nazi hunter (cult director Samuel Fuller) comes snooping around town. Will Joe and Jeremy choose evil over good, or will they “do the right thing” and fight the vampires?

Ultimately, the film isn’t sure what the right thing is, and thus, neither is the audience, leaving viewers more confused than ponderous. On top of this, A Return to Salem’s Lot is neither scary nor funny, making it a rather tepid entry in Cohen’s otherwise outstanding body of work. —Christopher Shultz

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Who doesn’t love a good old fashioned evil kid movie? From bona fide classics like The Bad Seed and The Omen to “trashier” fare like Bloody Birthday and the underrated Devil Times Five, there’s just something special about seeing prepubescent boys and girls slaughtering those around them.

Situated somewhere below the line of quality and good taste is Mikey, which bears the tagline “Remember, Jason and Freddie [sic] were kids once, too,” which lets you know exactly what kind of movie this is. Though it never gets quite as violent as the films in those franchises, the intent is clear: We’re here to see a psycho child off people in increasingly creative ways.

Mikey never really gets as creatively brutal as it could, giving audiences a movie that no doubt ran mostly uncut on basic cable back in the ’90s. Starring as the titular bad boy is Brian Bonsall, known primarily as the youngest Keaton child on Family Ties and from the Disney fever dream Blank Check. The audience is tipped off pretty quickly that Mikey is disturbed when he kills his entire foster family within the first 10 minutes.

He claims an intruder committed the crimes, and is hurriedly placed with another couple, played by John Diehl and Mimi Craven. The question then becomes: How soon will little Mikey kill again? We don’t have to wait terribly long, as the boy soon becomes obsessively infatuated with his friend’s older sister (Josie Bissett, All-American Murder), and plots to get rid of her boyfriend the only way he knows how. Ashley Laurence of Hellraiser fame plays the boy’s teacher, the only adult who knows something about Mikey just isn’t right.

If you’re looking for a frank exploration of child psychology and patterns of violence, don’t look here. Also, don’t look to Mikey if you prefer that good triumphs over evil in your entertainment, because you won’t find any of that here. Watch this movie only if you’re in the mood for some pure-grade schlock wrapped up in a nasty, 90-minute package. —Christopher Shultz

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From director Peter Brophy and co-writer Rod Bishop comes Body Melt, a goofy, goopy Australian body-horror splatter fest that plays like the unholy love child of Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive and David Cronenberg’s Rabid, with some Lynchian weirdness and a throbbing techno score thrown in for good measure.

It follows the citizens of Pebbles Court in Homesville, Melbourne, who all fall victim to an experimental body-enhancing vitamin sent to them in the mail by an unscrupulous pharmaceutical company. The filmmakers are concerned less with character and plot and more worried about grossing the audience out, which they achieve in spades. True to its title, the film is a smorgasbord of nasty death scenes as hilarious as they are disgusting.

There’s not a single protagonist in Body Melt. Rather, the film is comprised of several characters who almost all meet gnarly ends. There’s a detergent-guzzling man whose throat opens to sprout tentacle-like growths. Another resident of the quaint Pebbles Court suffers hallucinations from the drug until his face melts away, leaving only his bloody skull. A family vacationing at the very health spa that produced the vitamin suffers all matter of slimy, mucus-dripping indignities, while one of the spa’s workers — an oversexed muscle man — gets an erection so turgid his penis explodes. But perhaps the most vomit-inducing scene involves a pregnant woman, whose fate is best left for sick viewers to see for themselves.

In addition to all the madness listed above, Body Melt features a clan of possibly inbred service-station workers who torment two teen boys from the court, a clear nod to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. To say that the film is bonkers is an understatement. It can be a bit tricky at first to follow all the seemingly disparate storylines, but then again, the stories aren’t exactly the point. The practical effects are the true star here, and they are every bit as convincing now as they were in 1993.

Body Melt is a perfect midnight movie — just be sure to watch it on an empty stomach. —Christopher Shultz

Get it at Amazon.