The Films of Frank Henenlotter, Part 1: Basket Case (1982)

Blu-ray release.

Trying to pick my favorite Frank Henenlotter film is like trying to choose which one of my children I want to save from the flaming wreckage of a 16 car pile-up on the interstate. OK, maybe that's extreme, but writing about Henenlotter calls for it. He almost single-handedly revived exploitation cinema, bringing it out of the big pants of the 70's and into the big hair of the 80's. And while I certainly can't pick a favorite, I do know where to begin. Follow me, oh reader, back to the magical year of our lord nineteen hundred and eighty-two...

Oh, Basket Case. It's the classic story of romance we've heard again and again: Boy goes to the city; Boy meets Girl; Boy kisses Girl at the Statue of Liberty; Boy and Girl are tormented by Boy's hideously deformed and psychotic conjoined twin turned autonomous mass of flesh with teeth and claws.... Meh, maybe not so much. If you've not seen Basket Case, then here's the plot in a nutshell (or shall I say... basket? *titter*): A young man with amazing hair named Duane Bradley (Kevin Van Hentenryck) travels to New York City with his deformed twin brother Belial, whom Duane keeps locked in a large wicker basket. The psychically linked formerly conjoined twins begin to seek revenge on the trio of doctors who separated them over a decade prior. There are some twists and turns along the way, including an unlikely love interest and a very lengthy (and gruesome) flashback, but that pretty much sums up the lot of it. But hey, no one goes to the grindhouse for complex story and nuanced characters. We go for the blood and guts! And the gratuitous nudity! THAT's what makes a movie, damn it. And while Basket Case never wastes an opportunity to deliver on both these fronts, I'd argue that's not what keeps viewers coming back again and again. Rather, it's something about the very world that is cultivated in the film. There is something about the atmosphere, a word  we rarely get to use when discussing the exploitation genre, that feels totally seamless throughout. It's the music, the off-putting and awkward characters and performances, and, most importantly, the film's visual portrayal of New York City in the early 1980's.

Oh shit, THAT'S what's in the basket.

Because let's face it. New York City was, and for the most part is, filthy. Sorry New Yorkers, but it's true. It's grimy and dank, and certain pockets of the city capitalize on this more than others. And when we see our bright-eyed young Duane—having made his way from the quaint upstate township of Glen Falls—check into the seedy Hotel Broslin, we are truly made to feel the textured grime of the place, much in the way that Duane himself must be taking it in. This effect is partly due to the director's insistence on on-location shooting. Henenlotter knew that no designed set could possibly match the nuanced dilapidation of the old 42nd Street and various locations around Greenwich Village and Tribeca.

Kevin Van Hentenryck has excellent hair.

True, Basket Case was filmed on a shoestring budget. And as such couldn't have afforded studio space if they'd wanted it. But don't let the necessity of the filming process lead you to believe that the overall grunginess of the picture wasn't intentionally thematic. I've already mentioned the contrast between the scenes shot in Glen Falls and those shot in the city, but if you start to look more closely you'll see more disparate elements than the incidental details involved in shooting in two starkly different locations (I.E. trees in town vs. skyscrapers in the city). For example, the homes in which the Glen Falls shots take place are considerably open in the amount of space they provide and are often very sparsely furnished. This is in direct contrast with the spaces we see in the city, which are small and often overwhelmed with things. Knicknacks, food wrappers, etc. Sure, the city is claustrophobic. But it seems that Henenlotter went out of his way to really show us just how claustrophobic it can seem. Another trend is the portrayal of locations most viewers would regard as "clean" or "sterile" environments as having decrepit nature no different from the rest of the city locations. Both doctors' offices are presented this way: cramped, graffitied, covered in soot and mold. I mean, if I were to roll up to Dr. Needleman's office in real life, I would think he was probably not even a licensed doctor, but rather some fucking derelict who's set up shop in an abandoned building, put on a white coat, and is trying to give out "discount prostate exams."

 I may never even have realized just how dirt-caked this film was if it weren't for the most excellent Blu-ray release from Henenlotter's own Something Weird Video in cooperation with Image Entertainment. Apparently, Henenlotter discovered a long thought destroyed original negative and was able to transfer this version from the original 16mm. And it truly pays off. When the colors are popping and the mass amounts of detail are overwhelming you, it's hard to understand how you were able to watch that bootleg VHS your weird cousin gave you back in the early 90's. And when the effects look cheap, they look very cheap. And that's all a part of the appeal, because Basket Case was obviously a very personal project, Frank Henenlotter's love-letter to the exploitation movies he grew up watching and admiring. I'll also say the sound track was much clearer on this version than any other I've seen. Dialogue is crisp, and the spooky Herschell Gordon Lewis-esque organ theme is leveled just right. And, at like 13 bucks on Amazon, you really can't go wrong.

1982 poster art.

Basket Case is one of those movies that has earned its space in the zeitgeist of American cinema. Despite its being of the horror/gore/exploitation mode, it has kind of cemented itself in the minds of people who are film-conscious but not necessarily into "that kind of thing." I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone who is interested in films over the last 30 years or so who hasn't at least heard of Basket Case. Though whether or not he or she took the initiative to seek it out is an entirely different story. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's a great indicator as to where independent film was during its time. Besides this, it's legitimately fucking scary. I've seen it again and again, and I always feel on edge when the lights go out and the strange noises begin. Check it out, and I guarantee you'll find yourself praying for an opportunity to ask someone, "What's in the basket?"