This is an updated version of a review that was originally published in Bleeding Skull! A 1990s Trash-Horror Odyssey.
The first thing you need to know about Hellspawn is that it’s based on a true story, though “some material was dramatized.”
The second thing you need to know is that Hellspawn is about a half-ape, half-Satan monster with severe daddy issues who vows to kill everyone in his family.
Of course, what it’s really about is the need to feel loved.
The time is “The past . . .” A mother is giving birth. Congratulations! She’s given birth to Hellspawn, a tiny devil that definitely does not look like an off-brand action figure from Family Dollar. Hellspawn, just a wee babe, kills the mother, doctor, and the presiding priest.
Now it is “The present . . .” Someone takes a relaxing soak in the tub. But wait! Someone—or something—is inside the house! Soon a body floats face down in the tub and a hair dryer bobs in the bubbling, red water. Hellspawn is responsible.
Hellspawn has now grown into a full-sized adult, and then some. It’s got the body of an ape and the head of a bug-eyed devil. It’s got long bony fingers and sharp, deadly claws. It’s wearing a tattered plaid flannel shirt, because why not? It’s 1993.
Two cousins named Matt and Jack house-sit, which is my favorite way to earn money. Matt has a slight mullet and wanders around the living room without any pants. Jack sleeps with his shoes on and wakes up with beer cans under a dirty comforter. In other words: hunks.
Meanwhile, graves are being dug up and there are reports of cannibalism and necrophilia. People are getting murdered and a dog gets strung up from the rafters. A quiet town in Pennsylvania is being attacked by a ruthless monster! Now Matt and Jack must stop this bloody rampage. But how? The answer is simple: skip rocks on a lake, stare meaningfully in silence, wonder if you have a drinking problem, look for things in a garage, and yell at your cousin, “Sure, walk out on me like everyone else did in my life!”
The Polonia Brothers have gifted us with dozens of films, and they all have a staggering amount of passion, sincerity, and joy. Also red corn syrup. But, with such a large output of films, there will a handful of “lesser works.” Hellspawn is one of them. This film lags whenever Hellspawn is not on-screen, and Hellspawn is not always on-screen. The script is weighed down by dialogue and melodrama. Jack comes to grips with his alcohol problem, which he does by staring listlessly. He assesses his life and wonders how he got this far, which is not very far at all. There are plaintive flutes and too much acoustic guitar, and—if I’m being honest, any amount of acoustic guitar is too much. Jack and Matt’s inane conversations eat up precious screen time, which means we only get fleeting moments with Hellspawn. Still, when the monster is in the frame, there’s nothing else to care about or understand. Hellspawn is entertainingly ferocious and gory. He mauls and bites and forces someone to read a story to him. He picks a lovely flower and smells it and, at some point, he sheds a single tear. He also holds someone down and vomits in their face. And to answer your question, yes, he had corn for lunch.
Still, even Hellspawn can’t save Hellspawn from boring oblivion. The film does have many of the Polonia trademarks—DIY gore, thick Pennsylvanian accents, stills that sub in for exterior shots, and tube socks—but it doesn’t quite land. It’s outlandish, but not outlandish enough. It’s gory, but not gory enough. It’s surprising at times, but not surprising enough. The problem with Hellspawn, then, is that it’s just not enough.
