Review: I, Madman (1989)

Directed by: Tibor Takács
Starring: Clayton Rohner, Jenny Wright, Randall William Cook
Written by: David Chaskin
Music by: Michael Hoenig
Country: United States
Available on: Blu-ray (Scream Factory)
IMDb

Tibor Takács, who most famously brought the horror genre The Gate (1987) and The Gate II: The Trespassers (1990) before migrating to television, directed this supernatural slasher in between visits to underground suburban gateways to the realm of old gods. I, Madman is about a bookstore employee (Jenny Wright) who grows obsessed with the eponymous novel, written by Malcolm Brand, who was a bit of a, err, madman, and may still be running around killing people in the manner described in his book.

The first thing that struck me about this film was how proto Dark Man it is. They share a very similar art deco aesthetic, and Liam Neeson’s antihero has more than a passing resemblance to Mr. Brand, with their dark cloaks and mangled snouts and maws. Both were released around the same time, so I’m not sure which was the influence on the either or if they both just reached a similar destination via completely different routes. Maybe Takács and Sam Raimi are just wired similarly.

I, Madman opens with a bang, as our heroine has an imaginary encounter with a stop-motion monster out of Brand’s previous novel (a monster that looks suspiciously like a taller, more slender version of The Gate’s minions). But after that, things slow down significantly as Wright’s character investigates Brand’s history. Thankfully, the movie always looks interesting, even if it rarely actually is. Every once in a while, Brand shows up for some violence, collecting a bit or a bob from someone — maybe their scalp or their lips — but even those scenes aren’t staged in a particularly compelling way. Wright, beautiful in a very Virginia-Madsen-in-Candyman sort of way, just isn’t up to the task of leading this movie; her performance is drowsy, and the rest of the cast isn’t any better. Michael Hoenig’s score is overbaked and slips in one ear and out the other with nary any aural residue.

Takács’ Raimisms are the main things setting this film apart, with an odd camera angle here and there, but it’s not enough. The zany, special effects-laden opening is not a harbinger for what’s to come over the next hour, unfortunately — though that stuff does all eventually come back into play for a weird, sudden finale that doesn’t make much sense. I can’t remember the last time I felt so blasé about a film, or noticed my attention drifting so often. But maybe just ignore me, because lots of people love I, Madman, and I’m glad it exists to provide that joy.

Overall rating: 4 out of 10