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Basket Case will either encourage multiple viewings or a swift retreat from the theatre, depending upon one's frama of mind. Spooky young Kevin Van Hentenryck arrives in the big city, with a basket under his arm. Confined in that basket is a hideous mutation, which we soon learn is Van Hentenryck's twin brother. Angered over being separated at birth from his sibling, Van Henteryck intends to wreak vengeance on the doctors who performed the operation. Just when you're about to write Basket Case off as a horror spoof, it clutches you by the throat and refuses to let go. Though it's purely a matter of taste, Basket Case is far superior to its many sequels, which tend to gild the lily with too much self-conscious silliness.
A young man carrying a big basket that contains his deformed Siamese-twin brother seeks vengeance on the doctors who separated them against their will.
Basket Case Director Frank Henenlotter made a name for himself among horror genre fans for gruesome, low budget efforts like Brain Damage (1988) and the infamous Frankenhooker (1990). But before both of these gems he was responsible for this tacky, outrageous and highly entertaining no-budget shocker.
Basket Case tells the tragic tale of Duane Bradley (Kevin van Hentenryck), a young man who arrives in New York's Times Square and checks into the seedy Hotel Broslin carrying a big wicker basket containing his deformed Siamese (sorry, conjoined) twin brother Belial (played, in turns, by a rubber puppet and some clay sculpture). Of course, everyone he encounters asks Duane "what's in the basket?" and he is rather coy about it. What's surprising is that no-one asks him how he gets his hair that big and fluffy. My guess is lots and lots of Pantene. Anyway, their NY jaunt is anything but a sight-seeing affair.
Duane and Belial were cruelly separated years earlier by some quack doctors at the behest of their father (Richard Pierce), and now they've come to the Big Apple to enact some vengeance on these butchers. While tracking down the doctors and doing away with them one by one, Duane happens upon a love interest in one of the doctor's receptionists, Sharon (actress Terri Susan Smith, who apparently went a little bonkers shortly after making this film and now goes by the name "Ahu" and is a gypsy artist who makes "bowls of empowerment"… okay, moving on... ). Sharon throws herself (rather comically) at Duane, he falls for her, and this in turn enrages little Belial, who sees Sharon as nothing more than competition for Duane's affection.
Basket Case is a great example of the good old days of "guerilla film making". Henenlotter and his small cast and crew went to New York with a wad of cash (the entire budget of the film, which can famously be seen in Duane's hand as he checks into the hotel) and the determination to make a small horror film. Pretty much all of the film was shot without permits; the crew would show up on the street and rush through a scene so they could scamper off before someone called the cops. As well as being a fine example of low budget horror, Basket Case is a great snap shot of early 80's NY; there is no set dressing here because they couldn’t afford it, this is 1982 New York, and what a deliciously seedy, dirty, gritty place it is.
Now, don't get me wrong here: Basket Case is no 2001 or Apocalypse Now. The acting is, to put it mildly, not great, and the special effects are pretty cheesy, but it holds a special place in my heart and on my DVD shelf because… well, I'm not really sure. I just know that when I put it in the DVD player and press play, I get a goofy grin on my face every time. I look forward to the tremendously silly and gore-drenched scenes of Belial offing people (the thief who absconds with the basket from a movie theatre, almost instantly regretting doing so, and the female doctor's encounter with scalpels are particular favorites), and having some dinner (Duane throws cheeseburgers into the basket, foil-and-all, and we are then treated to some wacky sound effects of Belial chowing down), the incredibly bizarre conversations Duane has with the other tenants of the Hotel Broslin, and of course, the rubber puppet with the glowing red eyes that is little Belial. Up close it resembles those little rubber stress balls, you can even see the seams where the rubber was joined together. This is not to say Henelotter and his crew lacked talent, far from it. In fact the film is very well made for it's budget - the editing is crisp, the direction solid, and the pace pitch-perfect. Everyone involved had a blast making the film, and it shows.
Now, some people will think me a basket case for over-analyzing what is essentially a piece of trashy genre filmmaking, but I'm going to anyway. Like with the anti-drug statement Brain Damage, there are some underlying themes in Basket Case that become apparent after you've watched it as many times as I have. Or maybe they're clear from the first viewing and I'm just dense. Anyway, I'm referring to one scene in particular, where Belial pays a midnight visit to Sharon. In this bizarre sequence we see a naked Duane running down a New York street in the bitter cold. This is how Belial sees himself: a naked version of Duane. My heart aches for the little guy - he sees himself as "normal"… no wonder he gets the shits with people treating him like a freak! It's a testament to Henelotter's unique vision that although he does some heinous stuff, Belial is never a complete "villain"; indeed he is a character worthy of sympathy. Despite the fact that he is nothing but a head with two misshapen, clawed hands attached, Duane genuinely loves his "little" brother (they even share a telepathic connection) and this infuses the film with some surprisingly poignant moments, particularly concerning Belial's jealousy over Duane's growing relationship with Susan.
Frank Henenlotter, despite obvious talent, seemed to all but disappear from the filmmaking scene after Frankenhooker. Thankfully, in 2008 he made a comeback with Bad Biology. It's a welcome return and a bonus for all horror fans who like their flicks cheap, gruesome, and very, very weird.
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