The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy (24 page)

ELDER COP: I have the distinct impression I told you to fuck off. Unless I miss my guess, you’ve just disobeyed an officer of the law.

CLOSER ANGLE ON PINHEAD

—as he emerges into the (dim) light in the alley.

PINHEAD: I am the law.

ANGLE ON COPS

—as they halt in shock at this awesome presence, both of them instinctively drawing their guns. And both instinctively beginning to back up.

ELDER COP: You’re one butt-ugly son of a bitch and you’re about to be put down.

DIFFERENT ANGLE—ALL THREE

PINHEAD: I am the son of eternal night and you are about to discover pain has no ending.
¹¹

The first line of dialogue is so synonymous with the comic book character of Judge Dredd it would be hard to imagine Doug Bradley delivering it seriously (even if this was four years before the Sylvester Stallone movie). And the latter, though beautiful in its own right, jars against the utterances of the cop. The idea of turning the entire alleyway into a torture alley is a tantalizing one, though, and forcing the elder cop to pierce his own tongue with a handcuff bracelet counts as one of the most original torments in the entire
Hellraiser
canon.

The sequence where the Cenobites chase Joey down the street is gone, and while the controversial church scene is present it is the priest who faces Pinhead alone. All this is happening as Joey races home in her car, to find Pinhead waiting for her, “Like a spider or a lizard ... flat against the ceiling, his arms outstretched for balance.”
¹²
This is a little too reminiscent of one of the best scenes in 1990’s
Exorcist III
(William Peter Blatty), where one of the patients in the hospital looks down on George C. Scott’s character from the ceiling.

Joey lures Pinhead through the window of her apartment, which she used to travel to Elliott’s dream plane earlier. As in the film, it is in the Quonsett Hut where Elliott first opened the box that the final confrontation takes place. In this version both Pinhead and Elliott “erupt,” then their essences merge together in the reflection of Elliott sitting cross-legged on the floor. The frozen scene comes to life and as Elliott works the box again in 1921 the box opens in 1992. In a replay of the first scene from
Hellbound
, the hooks and chains take hold of Elliott and Joey finds herself back in her apartment, alone.

Yet a number of extra twists await. Because the box is now open in her time, when Joey walks through to the kitchen she finds herself in Hell with Pinhead waiting for her. “Oh, no kiss of welcome after seventy years?” he says.
¹³
This is where we meet the Cenobitized versions of Monroe, Terri and Doc, Joey’s cameraman. In one of the most dramatic and, I think, more satisfying changes, Joey must make her own Faustian deal with the Devil. The script has her dressed in Hell’s bridal gown, “bound tight in a black leather bustier with decorative metal attachments.... The only flash of color amidst all this black are her blood red elbow-high gloves ... no ... as she gets closer we see it’s real blood, as if she has dipped her arms elbow deep in a pool of blood. The skin exposed between blood and bustier is a rich Cenobitic blue.”
¹⁴
Joey walks up the aisle of her own accord, taking Pinhead’s hand—and then the camera pulls out through the circle of the puzzle box, just as it did at the end of
Hellraiser
. We discover the box is in “Ms. Summerskill’s Office,” on a plinth inside a bell jar. Seated behind the desk is a more confident and successful variant of Joey. All her dreams have come true, she is now a TV celebrity with her own show. Brad, her boss at the station, is now beneath her. A final bit of dialogue ends the movie perfectly:

SUMMERSKILL: You have to ask yourself, Brad—What do I really want ... and what am I prepared to pay? You have to ask yourself ... The Question.

BRAD (off): The Question?

SUMMERSKILL leans her elbows on her desk, interlocking her fingers and leaning her chin on the bridge they make.

She stares straight ahead—at BRAD and us. A mysterious smile plays about her lips.

SUMMERSKILL: What’s your pleasure, sir?
¹⁵

A backwards nod to the previous films, the lines also make more of the romantic possibilities between Elliott and Joey. This was also an undercurrent in the Pinhead/Kirsty relationship and because, to all intents and purposes, Joey takes Kirsty’s place in
Hell on Earth
, one option was to make her the bride.

But as with
Hellbound
, there would be more drafts and the screenplay eventually fell in line with what we saw on the screen. It wasn’t an easy process, something Atkins confirmed when the task was completed: “Every time someone made a stupid suggestion, I would ... give ’em an earful. And, thank God, they listened—even if it did take four different versions of the script and more drafts than I care to remember to get it where it is now.”
¹⁶
This would filter out some of the components mentioned, completely revamp the climax, add two more “Pseudo Cenobites”—C.D. and Barbie—an on-foot pursuit through the streets, the construction site scene, a deception involving Joey’s father, and her triumph over Pinhead. The box also became more of a driving force for Pinhead, because if it is in his possession he cannot be sent back to Hell, and it would be the catalyst for turning the office block not yet built into a veritable shrine to the Lament Configuration.

There is just one more point to mention with regard to the script: the wavering between English and American settings completely disappeared.
Hellraiser III
is told against a backdrop of an American City—unnamed in the first drafts of the screenplay, but most definitely New York when it came to filming. Those holding the purse strings were insistent this time. Besides which, it would be virtually impossible for the film to cling to its English origins now that almost all the cast were American and the movie was slated to be shot in North Carolina. But, ironically enough, the director chosen to replace Tony Randel at the very last minute, though he lived in the U.S., was in fact British himself.

Born in 1964 in London, Anthony Hickox came from a family of successful cinema people. His father was Douglas Hickox, who directed
Entertaining Mr. Sloane
(1970) and
Zulu Dawn
(1979). He was also the man responsible for
Theatre of Blood
(1973) starring Vincent Price, which he helmed at the behest of his horror- and Hammer-loving son. His mother, Anne V. Coates, edited such well-known classics as
Lawrence of Arabia
(David Lean, 1962) and
The Elephant Man
(David Lynch, 1980). Both Anthony’s brother, James, and his sister, Emma, followed her into this line of work: James was assistant editor on two of Anthony’s movies (
Waxwork II
and
Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth
), and Emma also edits for a living. As if that wasn’t enough, Hickox’s great-grandfather was none other than Lord J. Arthur Rank, founder of the famous Rank Film Company. Hickox’s contributions to cinema were slightly more modest; indeed, he began his career in front of the cameras rather than behind them.

After some commercials, television and film work as a child, Hickox thought about pursuing acting when he grew up, and this explains why he always makes cameo appearances in his own films (in
Hell on Earth
he’s a dying Vietnam soldier in Joey’s dreams). But his father had other ideas, “When I was young I vividly remember my dad throwing down the
Spotlight
book (an actor directory used by casting agents), saying, ‘Most of these people are starving! Is that the sort of career you want?’”
¹⁷
He bought Hickox an 8mm camera to experiment with and took him to work, in order to steer him towards making movies. Hickox decided to go to film school, but with no A or O levels, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Thankfully, the London College of Printing gave him five days to make an 8mm short as part of the entrance exam. Hickox used Ralph McTell’s famous song, “The Streets of London,” as inspiration and his father helped him to acquire a photographic model for the film. The College liked what he’d done and he was accepted onto their Foundation Course, which lasted four years.

After all that hard work, Hickox dropped out two months in and changed direction completely. The club scene was taking off in the early eighties and he tried his hand at this. While this experience would make him eminently qualified to get inside the head of J.P. Monroe’s character later on, he almost wound up running nightclubs for the rest of his life. It was his girlfriend at the time who provided the impetus for change. Daughter of actor Simon Ward, Sophie Ward convinced Hickox to direct again. He wrote and filmed the 16mm short
Rock-A-Bye Baby
, which he financed with his own money and which Sophie starred in. Helping out again, his father also facilitated Vincent Price’s role as narrator.

It eventually came to the attention of stage and film producer Michael White, best known for
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
(Jim Sharman, 1975), who asked Hickox to come in for a meeting. White wanted to know if he had anymore projects lined up, and Hickox told him about a cheap sci-fi flick he was trying to get off the ground called
Death Star
(which coincidentally Bob Keen was set to work on). Hemdale had agreed in principle to finance the picture for $800,000, so White paid for Hickox to travel to Los Angeles to close the deal. The director flew to New York instead and took the Greyhound bus on to L.A., due to his notorious aversion to flying, but he heard nothing after the meeting. Fortunately, White backed him to the hilt, telling him that he’d sort out anything he needed over there.

Finally Hickox got his lucky break when he met Stefan Ahrenberg of Vestron Pictures, who showed interest in yet another project he was developing. This one was called
Waxwork
, about students who visit a waxworks chamber of horrors in an old dark house, only for the exhibits to come to life. On the same day Vestron agreed to make the movie, Lorimar made an offer, but his loyalty was with the former company, which put $1 million into the venture. The 1988 movie starred Zach Galligan—famous for his role in Joe Dante’s smash hit
Gremlins
(1984)—as Mark, and cult starlet Deborah Foreman as his companion Sarah. It also featured ex-Avenger Patrick Macnee, while Bob Keen was called upon again to re-create the gallery of famous monsters from filmland.

Waxwork
definitely set the tone for Hickox’s early work: derivative, but well-paced, visually stimulating, with interesting camerawork, and tongue firmly placed in its horror-comedy cheek. It was something the director justified by stating, “When we made
Waxwork
, horror comedies weren’t the big thing aside from
Monster Squad
, so I felt it was quite original to spoof the genre.”
¹⁸
He also saw it as a clever way of getting around the ratings system. The movie was due to be released in 1,200 cinemas, but then Vestron’s title
The Unholy
did badly at the box office and Vestron got cold feet. Nevertheless, the movie found its niche on video, doing extremely well financially. This had two consequences: first, Vestron were impressed enough to payroll Hickox’s next venture, a spoof vampire-western; and second, Electric Pictures bought the rights to
Waxwork
and offered Hickox $2 million to direct a sequel. The first of these,
Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat
(1991), was a self-confessed homage to Polanski’s
The Fearless Vampire Killers
(1967) that revolved around a peaceful vampire town called Purgatory. Enter the great-grandson of Van Helsing (a bespectacled Bruce Campbell) who has tracked down the oldest of them all, The Count (David Carradine). Throw in a splinter group threatening to destroy the community, and you have the essence of the movie. Interesting ideas, such as six-shooters that pack wooden bullets, sit well alongside jokey one-liners (when she becomes a bloodsucker, one woman moans, “What am I going to tell my mother?”). But there are some distinctly soap opera moments—exacerbated by the presence of
The Colby
s’ Maxwell Caulfield—and the action appears overblown and staged. If it did nothing else, the director claims it taught him the “real nuts and bolts of film making,”
¹⁹
although the more relaxed method of filming would prove time-consuming and led to his next film being made at breakneck speed.

Waxwork II: Lost in Time
(1992) was another parody. Gallagher returned to reprise his role from the original, but with model Monika Schnarre replacing Foreman. The protagonists are not confronted by waxworks of the monsters on this occasion, but are transported via a time bubble to meet them personally. Martin Kemp’s Dr. Frankenstein rubs shoulders with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Godzilla, and a shopping mall full of zombies. Hardly the credentials, you might think, for a
Hellraiser
director—a concern broached by Barker himself. “I was nervous about this choice. I wasn’t a fan of his previous efforts.... He’s a slick cameraman with movements to match and he makes great-looking pictures. But I didn’t have a great deal of faith in his story abilities. I made this quite clear when he came round my Hollywood home to discuss the film. I told him in no uncertain terms that I hoped, (a) it wasn’t going to be funny, and, (b) he told the story properly. These were the two main obstacles in my view.”
²⁰