Ah, the 1980s. It was a simpler time: a time of magic, miracles, demons and gods. A time when a cult horror director could commandeer a $25 million budget to construct an amalgamation of thoughtful British science-fiction and American horror. A time when Steve Railsback was considered a viable leading man. I speak of the infamous flop Lifeforce.

Loosely based on Colin Wilson’s novel The Space Vampires — fairly on-the-nose for a title — The Texas Chain Saw Massacre director Tobe Hooper and Alien screenwriter Dan O’Bannon cobbled together one of the cinema’s most bizarre achievements. Ostensibly a tale of intergalactic vampires discovered in Halley’s Comet (embodied by Mathilda May, wandering nude through her scenes and helping a few teenagers achieve maturity much faster), Lifeforce switches tones at will, transforming from space opera to vampire flick to chase film, then going absolutely bugfuck to become a zombie apocalypse. At one point, May replicates herself through blood streaming from the faces of nearby victims, and somehow, it just makes sense.

Cannon Films clearly didn’t know what it had signed on for. Lifeforce flopped, with reviews generally negative or worse (although Gene Siskel liked it). But aided through hindsight and extended editions, Lifeforce is a geek classic. Certainly no one involved phoned it in; Hooper’s direction (never better) captures the style and dry wit of the classic Hammer Quatermass films (well worth checking out), the score by Henry Mancini (!) is appropriately quirky and bombastic, and John Dykstra’s (Star Wars) special effects are superb — the desiccated zombie design is wonderful, and the alien spacecraft is a thing of beauty. No CGI here, just craft and skill.

And the cast! Railsback is fittingly hammy as the token American hero, and the rest of the talent is a who’s who of classic British faces, including Patrick Stewart, who may well be a Highlander considering he hasn’t aged a day in almost three decades. Lifeforce ain’t particularly scary, although it has a share of “Boo!” moments. But when you add up its elements — vampires, zombies, mad scientists, astronauts, sex, spaceships, psychics, aliens, Lovecraftian undertones — you have one utterly sui generis film. —Corey Redekop

Buy it at Amazon.

You might think 10 years is a long time to wait before ripping off a wildly successful movie like Alien, but Leviathan was released only three years after the even more wildly successful Aliens, so while the concept wasn’t fresh, it was at least fresh on people’s minds.

One of a half-dozen underwater sci-fi thrillers released in 1989, Leviathan takes place in an undersea mining facility where the crew’s been living for three months. Toward the end of their shift, they discover a derelict vessel whose crew was destroyed by an unusual, dare-we-say-“alien” life form. One of the miners accidentally brings it back on board their ship, hidden inside his body until it’s ready to pop out and terrorize the rest of the crew who are stuck there because the company they work for knows more about all this than they’re letting on.
 
Leviathan does have some significant, although superficial-to-the-story differences from Alien, however. H.R. Giger famously designed the creature in Alien; Leviathan’s beast was created by the great Stan Winston, who unfortunately wasn’t doing his best work here. The early stages of the monster look cool, like a killer eel or something, but as it matures, it turns into an asymmetrical version of the Creature from the Black Lagoon-type character from Mad Monster Party.
 
A better difference from Alien is Leviathan’s cast. The movie is watchable mostly for the gorgeous Amanda Pays and her irresistible accent (and underwear), but also because it has Robocop, Col. Trautman, Winston from Ghostbusters, Marv from Home Alone and Callie’s dad from Grey’s Anatomy trying to fight a fish-man. When I think about it that way, it’s actually kind of awesome. —Michael May

Buy it at Amazon.
 

The premise of The Core would have you believe that the inner core of the earth has stopped spinning, causing massive thunderstorms, electromagnetic surges that stop pacemakers and, well, something that causes birds in London to go absolutely mad. And that’s just for starters! College professor Aaron Eckhart believes that within a year, all life around the world will cease to exist.

He convinces enough military bigwigs that the situation is real and deadly, if they don’t do something — namely, drill down to the center of the earth and jump-start the planet. Hey, whaddaya know, Delroy Lindo’s been working on just such a machine in the middle of the desert! So the two get in the ship with astronaut Hilary Swank, pompous scientist Stanley Tucci and a few others, and get down to business.

For a while anyway, The Core plays it straight enough that you just buy into it. It’s not until the mission is well under way that said suspension starts falling apart, probably because the movie is just too darned long. And the mission — its Armageddon half — is actually the least interesting part of the movie. I much more enjoyed the setup — the Deep Impact half — where the disaster scenes carry a little mystery, the Space Shuttle is forced to land in a Los Angeles sewer ditch, and citizens panic as all of Rome’s monuments are blown to model bits.

The acting isn’t all that bad, just the dialogue. Eckhart makes for a likable all-brains hero, although this must be one of the easiest slum jobs for an Academy Award winner, as Swank has to do little more than sit in a chair and rattle off some numbers. The weakest link here, however, is Road Trip freak DJ Qualls as a hacker named Rat. He likes Xena: Warrior Princess and Hot Pockets, and can do anything with computers — and is just plain annoying. He’s this film’s Jar-Jar. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

In In the Year 2889, fashions have devolved to the late 1960s. Oh, and nuclear war has occurred, leaving an old, curmudgeonly military man and his pretty daughter alone and holed up in their quiet, isolated valley home. He has just enough rations for three people: himself, his daughter and her fiancé, for whom they’re waiting to show up.

At the first knock at the door, however, some random, radiated, bacon-faced guy falls into their entryway. Capt. John gets out his Geiger counter and is concerned about the radiation, but his daughter insists on letting him stay. Oh, well, okay — since you asked nicely, honey.

Then, immediately following, four others show up and weasel their way into the compound. It all serves to piss off Capt. John, who promises to settle arguments with the trusty gun hanging in a holster from his tan jumpsuit. It’s not long before the group is bickering and at each other’s throats.

To complicate matters, such as a shortage of food and no more alcohol, there’s a mutant monkey monster on the loose. Or so they say it’s descended it’s from monkeys, but the budget only allows for a grampa mask with added fangs and one hollow eye socket. What else would you expect from Mars Needs Women schlockmeister Larry Buchanan? —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

There’s no need to watch Altered States while in an altered state, because crazed director Ken Russell appears to have done that for us. That very well could be why the science fantasy goes awry shortly after setup.

Professor Eddie Jessup (William Hurt, in his first starring role) is studying man’s ability to enter other forms of consciousness, but his time in the floating tank only takes him so far. So he goes to Mexico to partake in some ritual involving a tribal magic-mushroom concoction that looks like fecal stew. It causes him to have überkooky hallucinations of a seven-eyed goat, rape, sand lizards, a lava closet — in other words, Russell’s mid-morning daydreams and happy thoughts.

Eventually, the effects of the poop soup strengthen when Jessup soaks in a sensory-deprivation tank, causing him to regress into a primal, ape-like man. Speaking of apes, Blair Brown’s armpits are razor-neglected; she plays his love interest/wife/ex-wife (all in the span of about 15 minutes) who had a big, red flag not to continue their relationship when he admits to envisioning a crucified Christ when he orgasms.

Then 5, Drew Barrymore plays one of the Jessup children. (I didn’t check the credits, but perhaps she consulted on the hallucination scenes?) The most interesting portion of the film is when Hurt’s arms and torso start to bubble up mid-morph — nothing a little tough-actin’ Tinactin couldn’t fix — and eventually goes full-devo Darwin, turning the local zoo into his personal Golden Corral. He leaves quite a mess, which is the most apt description for Russell’s film — one full of big ideas, but little coherence and lots of, in the words of one shouting character, “Kabbalistic, quantum, friggin’ dumb, limbo mumbo-jumbo!” —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.