MONSTER DOG (1986)

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological*


Schlock-director Claudio Fragasso had collaborated with his wife Rosella Drudi about four times previous to this entry, but MONSTER DOG doesn't come anywhere near equaling the delirium of the couple's work on that "best worst movie," TROLL 2.  That said, though the script for DOG is weak even for a formula horror-flick, there are at least a few decent scares here and there.

The film is one of the horror-genre's many takes on the "prodigal son," in which a person, usually relatively young, returns to a place he's left behind for many years, only to find sinister forces waiting for him or her. Protagonist Vince Raven (Alice Cooper) returns to his family's country home long after he's made it as a big-time singer, and he brings with him his girlfriend and a video-film crew, all to the end of using the largely deserted house to shoot a music video. But the moment the entourage drives into town, the sheriff and several scruffy locals stop the car, telling them that wild dogs have been besieging the area, often killing residents. The sheriff seems to blame Raven for this event, even though Raven's clearly just arrived. Later Raven discloses to girlfriend Sandra that his late father suffered from a form of dementia that was sometimes mistaken for werewolfism, and that long ago the afflicted man was executed by the locals for both being a real werewolf and for calling troops of dogs in to prey on locals.

There's no surprises here: I'm giving away little to say that the accusation of real werewolfism is real and that Raven has inherited it. The entourage suffers from attacks by wild dogs, by vigilante country-folk, and by a bloody-clothed old man who's probably the best thing in the movie. Even if Cooper had been a better actor, there wouldn't have much he could do with this dull "A leads to B" storyline.

Though Poe has nothing to do with this sort of gory junk, the protagonist's surname apparently inspired someone to use the Alan Parsons Project's 1975 song "The Raven" at one point./ Cooper sings, too, but he's not as vividly theatrical here as in his best-known performances-- possibly because he'd just got out of rehab and wanted to make a simple sleaze-film with no redeeming value.