It can be a difficult task making it to a midnight film after a long night of drinking whiskey. So congratulations must be given to Gorehound Features for successfully drawing myself and other drunken people with fine taste in cinema to The Byrd on Saturday, April 16. It was indeed a privilege to watch one of the sleaziest films of all time in one of the classiest theatres in the country. So…
It can be a difficult task making it to a midnight film after a long night of drinking whiskey. So congratulations must be given to Gorehound Features for successfully drawing myself and other drunken people with fine taste in cinema to The Byrd on Saturday, April 16. It was indeed a privilege to watch one of the sleaziest films of all time in one of the classiest theatres in the country. So…
Say hi to Frank Zito: Vietnam vet, landlord, serial killer. Part Norman Bates, part Travis Bickle, Frank has mommy issues. When he was a child his mother, a prostitute, repeatedly locked him in a closet while she turned tricks. When she wasn’t doing that, she burned him with cigarettes. Little of this is actually shown in the film, but instead given as soliloquy while Frank wrestles with delirious fits of guilt after each murder he commits. Frank’s special brand of sickness derives from a habit of scalping female victims and then attaching the bloody hairpieces to the mannequins crowding his dingy apartment. His only friends are these mannequins until he meets fashion photographer, Anna. The two start dating and, well, it doesn’t work out.
Before going further, a warning must be issued. If you are an attractive young female and you are in this movie, take heed. If you are a hooker who needs to make rent, don’t sleep with Frank Zito. He will kill you and take your hair. You’ll know him by his beer gut, his bad fashion sense, and his acne scarred face. If you are a nurse leaving your shift at the hospital and Frank is following you, do not hide in a subway station bathroom stall. He warned you (in his head) not to go out tonight. But you did it anyway. Scalped. If you are a pretty fashion model and Frank Zito rings your doorbell late at night, do not answer it. And finally, after a long night of disco dancing do not, under any circumstances, park under the Verrazano Bridge in Brooklyn and make out with Tom Savini. Savini was, of course, the make up and effects artist for Maniac, and anyone who has followed underground horror cinema in the last three decades knows he is a legend both as an effects artist and actor. The scene under the bridge is one of the most famous in film for it’s groundbreaking, no-bullshit, depiction of a head being blown to pieces.
Joe Spinell, who also co-wrote, plays Frank. Spinell had a too-brief career as a character actor during the ‘70s and early ‘80s. Some may remember his brief appearances in the Godfather films, and as Rocky Balboa’s loan shark boss in Rocky. All reports of his off-screen persona counteract the seedy image of the characters he played: a generous man who helped struggling actors, including a young Stallone. Yet no one could play a sleazebag like Spinell. His performance is the glue. As repulsive as the Zito character is, it’s nearly impossible to stop watching the screen. Talent like this can’t be taught.
Despite stretches of disturbing violence, there is a certain comedic charm in the sheer ludicrousness of the relationship that develops between Frank and Anna. Anna is a fashionista and a drop dead (pun!) beauty. By way of a pick-up line Frank offers this gem: “I’m an artist. I paint landscapes, still lifes, abstract.” Anna likes artsy types and after reciprocating his advances, Frank (in a nod to Taxi Driver) squeezes out an awkward “You talkin’ to me?” All this is even more hilarious considering how bad of a dresser Frank is. She shoots fashion. Get it? They have dinner. Gut hanging over his belt, Frank makes terrible jokes. Anna laughs, enthralled by his charm. One is forced to wonder whether this portion of the film was not entirely in Frank’s head. Of course, it is also possible that the thread was introduced simply as a way of drawing the film to a climax and inevitable end. There are, after all, only so many scalpings one can watch in an evening. As the finale approaches, the story takes a turn toward the supernatural, and descends into a bloodbath that should have proved more than satisfactory to any militant feminists of the day.
It didn’t. Maniac was picketed and panned by uptight movie critics and feminists nationwide upon its 1980 release. How many of these people actually saw the film remains debatable. All this only served to make the movie more of a financial success and guaranteed it a place in cult film history. But Maniac still resonates, not just for the reaction it received upon release, but for a variety of crucial ingredients. One, of course, is Spinell’s performance. Then there are Tom Savini’s brilliant low budget effects (he supposedly used leftovers from the crew’s catering table for some of the gore). Savini was a Vietnam Vet who witnessed first hand the brutal impact of bodily injury, an unfortunate circumstance that, perhaps ironically, helped in building a career in film. The camerawork is also, at times, brilliant. Certain scenes invoke a sense of actually being in the room with this psychopath. You can almost smell the grossness of his apartment. Director William Lustig had worked on some serious hardcore porn shoots before Maniac, and he has a knack for close-ups. There are flashes of charisma in some of the female characters as well. The role of doomed model Rita is played by beautiful adult film actress Abigail Clayton. But, most importantly, this is a film for outsiders made by outsiders. It’s a sleazy affair created by a crew of fearless, tough, people and it shows. Simply put, as the portrait of a tormented man, it works. And those who whine about a lack of redeeming social value in any art form should know this: real life characters like Frank Zito exist, especially in New York, where the film was shot and set. If these disturbed people all learned how to take their thoughts and agressions out in a creative format then we might be able to save more hot women from getting scalped.
