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FATAL GAMES (1984)
Directed by Michael Elliot
Media Home Entertainment VHS
Reviewed 04.27.06
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba
THE FILM
I don't just live life, I attack
it. So when the theme song from
Fatal Games grabbed my
shoulders and wailed, "Take
it all the way," "Winning
isn't everything, it's the only
thing," and "Take it to
the limit," I jumped off the
couch, ran a two minute mile, and
invented an alternative to gasoline.
That's how PUMPED it got me.
Fatal Games takes the locker
room rulebook and pisses all over
it. Steroids are legal. People wear
leg-casts over their slacks. Hot
dogs land in laps. This is a sports
team slasher that's blissfully unconcerned
with the concepts of reality and
filmmaking aptitude...Not counting,
of course, the lesbionic gym teacher.
That's real. So are the buzzsaw
synths that'll cut you in half.
The resulting intoxica celebration
will last for weeks to come and
Graduation
Day is positively not invited.
To The Nationals, tout de suite!
If you're expecting a plot recap,
forget it. All I know is that a
group of random olympic hopefuls
are training for a competition called
"The Nationals," which
never happens. Instead, a fashionable
killer in shiny workout pants skewers
the homely kids with a very large
Javelin pole. In the pool. In the
weight room. In the sauna. For some
reason, everybody wants to know
what happened to Nancy. There's
something about a sex change and
a poor GPA in there too, but I didn't
get it. Obviously, I was too busy
takin' it to the limit.
Fatal Games sounds average,
but I assure you: This film is anything
but. The whole thing might climax
with the riveting quest of a guy
on crutches, but we need
that downtime. One time director
Michael Elliot (the best kind) shoots
it long and singular. The camera
rarely moves and has a gift for
capturing important moments from
two miles away. It makes sense though,
considering how much insanity Elliot
has to squeeze in. Whitey-tightys
that look like adult diapers. Javelins
that travel the length of a football
field. "Retardation injections."
Heartwarming scenes of inept father-daughter
bonding, followed by a nude woman
running through a school for five
minutes. You'd think it would all
peak with the greatest bogus leg-breaking
of all time, but no! The dirty sets,
retardo inspirational speeches,
and rampant nudity refuse to give
up.
There might've been consistency
issues with Fatal Games,
but my mind was impervious. That's
what happens after you bench press
a thousand pounds and discover a
solution to the nation's deficit.
God, I'm PUMPED.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
You can always count on Media for
a dark picture and a slightly weathered
print. Fatal Games looks
clearer than To
All A Good Night and Terror
On Tour, but it still scrubs
the bathroom floor on a regular
basis. The mono sound crackled from
time to time. What VHS tape doesn't?
EXTRAS
The Nationals are nowhere in sight.
FINAL THOUGHTS
In the grand tradition of Girls
Nite Out, Fatal Games
is a throw-it-all-in, perverted
slasher that is not of this Earth.
You’ve got to take it all
the way, even if it kills you. Find
a copy or die trying.
Thanks to Eric Robitaille for
providing a copy of this film! |
So immature
Seeking the limits
Pillow talk
Bustin'
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