Review: Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (1981)

(aka Night Warning)
Directed by: William Asher
Starring: Jimmy McNichol, Susan Tyrrell, Bo Svenson
Written by: Stephen Breimer, Boon Collins, Alan Jay Glueckman
Music by: Bruce Langhorne
Country: United States
Available on: Blu-ray/DVD (Code Red)
IMDb

I knew, from horror movie water cooler talk, that Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (BBNM) was a bizarre flick. Its abstruse title and artwork only amplified that perception, even as they kept me at a distance. I finally put aside my apprehensions about its purported incestual undertones and dove in, fully expecting something that would fuck me up. What I did not expect, however, was something that’s actually pretty fantastic. Susan Tyrrell is Cheryl, the kooky aunt who’s been taking care of high schooler Billy since his parents died in a car accident. Within the first 10 minutes, it’s apparent Cheryl loves our little Billy a bit too much for mixed company. She dotes over him, and she’s plotting to sabotage his basketball scholarship so he won’t fly the coop. She lingers a little too long when Billy’s getting ready for a shower. When Cheryl’s loneliness starts to push her to murder, things get nasty. BBNM is a pervasively uncomfortable movie, and its ability to squirm under your skin and make larval babies lies in Tyrrell’s wonderfully psychotic performance. She’s equal parts Norman Bates, Aunt Martha, and Baby Jane. She has some truly creepy moments, from the way she throws herself awkwardly, desperately at the TV repairman, to the care with which she laps spilled milk from Billy’s neck and chin, to her final moments before death, when she’s compelled to consummate her feelings for Billy via mouth-kissing. Though there are plenty of psychological assaults to be found here, the physical violence is just as keen, as foreshadowed in the first 5 minutes. Though BBNM is not especially graphic, its violence is frequently brutish and sudden, and looks genuinely painful thanks to some acting that, despite exaggeration, works really well. All that aside, what’s really fascinating about the movie is its leading-edge depiction of queer characters. At its core, BBNM explores attitudes about homosexuality, through the vehemence of the detective who suspects Billy of his aunt’s killings and Billy’s teammate, played by Bill Paxton in an early role. Both Billy, who’s not actually gay, and his basketball coach, who is, face near-constant verbal and physical harassment for their perceived and actual sexual orientations. But the film depicts these characters against type at a time in American culture when outward hatred towards homosexual men was not only accepted but encouraged. Tom’s coach is not portrayed as a pervert preying on high school boys, as he would have been by lazier filmmakers; he’s an encouraging, caring presence for his team and he’s in a consensual adult relationship with another man. Billy doesn’t think twice about his coach’s orientation. It’s a surprisingly thoughtful and progressive story element, considering the film’s generally exploitative leanings. Everything about this film is kind of disarmingly superlative (except its tacked on epilogue); I expected something crazy but silly. While there’s definitely a current of stylistic hyperbole, BBNM is much more than its eccentric reputation.

Overall rating: 8.5 out of 10