Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on July 23, 2003, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
When was the last time the menu screens on a DVD special edition were given as much attention as the rest of the supplements? It’s not damning with faint praise to say that some of the most fun when viewing Lions Gate’s House of 1000 Corpses disc can be had by not selecting one of the features. On the main menu, Sid Haig comes out in costume as Captain Spaulding, inviting you to select one of the categories. But if you take your time choosing, he regales you with insults while oogling a porno mag and chowing down on fried chicken. Anyone who found Haig’s profane performance to be the movie’s highlight will get a kick out of this extended bonus; Bill Moseley as Otis and Sheri Moon as Baby deliver similar (if somewhat shorter and not quite as funny) shtick on the subsidiary menus, with Moseley ranting differently on each of the several scene selection screens.
House (reviewed here) is, of course, notorious for having been dropped by Universal during postproduction, and as presented here by Lions Gate, it bears all the technical sheen of the studio feature it once was. Without compromising the movie’s down-and-dirty veneer, the 1.85:1 transfer is very slick and sharp, bearing excellent colors, deep, threatening blacks and almost no grain (beyond a few optical shots). While some of the hallucinatory dream and fantasy scenes are intentionally rough-looking, even here the image quality is very fine. The Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround audio is (pardon the pun) full-blooded, with the directional effects punching up the disorienting feel of the later horror scenes. An isolated music track is also included, as befits a film directed by a rock ’n’ roller (who also scored the movie with Scott Humphrey).
Even as his stars camp it up on the menus and a couple of the supplements, Zombie himself is calm and laid-back on his audio commentary track. Resisting any urge he may have had to chastise Universal for abandoning his baby, he instead delivers a very detailed and entertaining overview of the production, shot through with plenty of anecdotes regarding specific scenes. He does recollect the numerous problems that afflicted the shoot, with references to crew members who left mid-production; the biggest problem he recalls with Universal involves shooting on its lot, where the noise from the Studio Tour attractions ruined takes (in particular, the cops’ discovery of the dead cheerleaders and their subsequent murders were interrupted by the Jaws ride!).
While he does reference the “limbo” the movie found itself in, during which he shot those surreal inserts (on locations ranging from his house to the basement of a music venue he was playing), Zombie doesn’t comment directly on the distribution problems—nor does he talk about the ’70s shockers that served as House’s acknowledged inspiration. The only real disappointment of his talk, though, is his mention of numerous deleted scenes (cut for aesthetic, not ratings, reasons) that don’t appear on the disc itself.
The rest of the extras are a mixed bag, and not quite as extensive as the onscreen list makes them seem. The making-of and on-set featurettes are too brief to make much of an impact, and the “Casting” bit (one video take of Dennis Fimple doing a Grandpa monologue) could have been combined with “Rehearsals,” in which it’s fun to watch the actors performing a few intense scenes in the safety of a studio office. Interviews with Haig, Moseley, Moon (who replies to each question with one-sentence answers) and makeup FX artist Wayne Toth are included; no surprise, Haig’s is the best. The highlight among all this material, though, is the still gallery, not only for the breadth of behind-the-scenes FX photos provided by Toth, but for the fact that, in a rare but welcome touch, the shots are individually captioned.
