Main cast: Rick Herbst (Brian), Gordon MacDonald (Mike), Jennifer Lowry (Barbara), Theo Barnes (Morris Ackerman), and Lucille Saint-Peter (Martha Ackerman)
Director: Frank Henenlotter
Born from the delightfully twisted mind of Frank Henenlotter, Brain Damage hit theaters in 1988 as a follow-up to his earlier cult hit, Basket Case. Mr Henenlotter, who seems to have a particular talent for exploring the seedy underbelly of New York City with a tongue-in-cheek approach, created this film as an offbeat blend of body horror and dark comedy.
The movie isn’t just a standard B-movie gorefest; it’s a bizarre and oddly thoughtful exploration of addiction, laced with camp, gallows humor, and graphic practical effects that leave an indelible mark on the psyche.
The story centers on Brian, a seemingly average young man who wakes up one morning to find his life forever changed by a new “friend”, a parasitic creature named Aylmer (or Elmer, to keep things casual). Aylmer is no ordinary parasite; he’s a phallic-shaped, blue-hued slug that speaks with the sophisticated voice of a 1920s vaudeville performer. He injects a hallucinogenic blue fluid directly into Brian’s brain, sending him on euphoric highs in exchange for a simple service: feeding him human brains. As Brian’s addiction to Aylmer’s fluid deepens, he becomes increasingly complicit in a series of grotesque murders.
It’s a darkly comedic take on the horror genre, with Brian’s struggle to break free from Aylmer’s grasp mirroring the plight of drug addicts trying to “detox.” Naturally, it’s easier said than done when your drug of choice is a talking brain-munching parasite.
The film revels in its camp and gore, never shying away from the absurdity that defines it. There’s no shortage of visceral, over-the-top scenes, such as the infamous “oral fixation” moment that takes place in a grimy alleyway. It’s shockingly graphic, involving Brian’s encounter with a woman whose head meets a gruesome fate. One can’t help but wonder whether a scene like this would make it past today’s censors without raising a few eyebrows—or lawsuits. The movie embraces its 1980s origins with everything from big hair to hideous tighty-whities, adding to its retro charm. It feels like an acid trip with none of the side effects, offering a wild, visual spectacle from start to finish.
Without question, Aylmer is the true star here. His incongruously charming voice and perverse sense of humor contrast brilliantly with his horrific nature. One moment, he’s offering Brian a hit of his addictive blue juice, and the next, he’s eagerly devouring a victim’s brain. His sophisticated tones and gleeful sadism elevate him beyond mere B-movie monster status, making him one of the more memorable horror creatures of the era. Mr Henenlotter’s decision to make Aylmer a charismatic “dealer” is a stroke of brilliance, adding layers of twisted comedy to the horror.
The movie’s allegory for drug addiction is about as subtle as being whacked over the head with a sledgehammer. Brian’s euphoria, withdrawal symptoms, and increasingly desperate attempts to regain his highs make for a compelling if heavy-handed, exploration of substance abuse. Rick Herbst gives a surprisingly effective performance as Brian, nailing the disoriented highs and agonizing lows with a level of commitment that grounds the film’s more absurd elements.
There’s also a noticeable homoerotic subtext throughout. Take, for example, the scene in a shower where Brian encounters a muscular nude man. It’s straight out of a Tom of Finland work, and it’s hard not to see a suggestion that Brian might end up hustling for his next fix. Yet, the film shies away from explicitly exploring this direction, as if saying, “Sure, an alleyway ‘oral fixation’ scene is fine, but let’s not go too far with the gay stuff.” It’s an intriguing 1980s double standard, where certain taboos could be broken with gory flair, but others remained off-limits.
The film is undeniably fun, provided you can look past the dated aesthetics that scream “1980s” louder than a hair metal ballad. The wild ride from start to finish is filled with colorful visuals, gooey practical effects, and a genuinely wacky premise. Mr Henenlotter clearly set out to create something that defied the conventional horror mold, and Brain Damage succeeds in being as unique as it is utterly bizarre. It’s a movie that’s just as much about the experience as it is about the story—a trip of the most bizarre variety.
When the credits roll, you’re left with an ending that’s as bizarre and over-the-top as the rest of the film. But considering the madcap journey that Brain Damage takes you on, it feels only fitting to wrap things up in an explosion of insanity. Mr Henenlotter’s brand of B-movie magic delivers a final scene that’s both bewildering and perfectly in line with the deranged spectacle that precedes it.
If you’re a fan of offbeat horror and don’t mind indulging in a bit of brain-melting madness, Brain Damage is a must-watch. It’s a grimy, slimy little treasure that’s as ridiculous as it is entertaining, a twisted carnival of gore and humor that only the 1980s could have produced!
