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.
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Still amateur low budget horror filmmaking perfection from Frank-the-Tank Henenlotter. The awesome effects, the insane performances, the seedy NYC atmosphere, everything is so genuine and endearing. The scalpels-in-the-face scene gets me every time, too; incredible visual and tip-top overacting that registers as an 8.2 on the Richter scale. Belial, I love you, you disgusting little cockblocker.
There's something maniacally impressive about a movie where the only good performance comes from a screaming flesh basketball.
no fucking way i'm ever going to new yorkThe perfect midnight movie—a cult classic ripe with sleaze, a basket dwelling maniac, and Frank Hennenlotter’s magic touch of low budget cult craft mixed with dark humor draped in a crusty layer of scuzz. Basket Case made its way from the grime crime streets of 1980’s New York City to the box on the video store shelf that I was more curious about than any other, with Belial peeking out at me while I wondered what exactly was in that basket. Dunno what else to say other than whenever I’m in a shitty mood and worrying about things like death or bleeding out of my ass as a result of nuclear fallout, I turn on Basket Case. For some reason Belial and Duane’s tale always puts this basket case in a better mood. Much like the MoMa restoration of Night of the Living Dead, the work they did here on this Arrow Blu is phenomenal and a must see.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" - Belial, Basket Case (1982)
the real monster is ableismA tale of love gone both right and wrong within and without a family. How monsters are defined, not born. How good intentions sometimes cannot divert disaster. Why letting your ex-conjoined twin talk you into a campaign of murderous revenge is more than likely a terrible idea, with lasting consequences beyond what may or may not have been intended. A warm and lovingly rendered portrait of early 1980's NYC Times Square Culture, from low-rent hotels with stairwells full of trash to adult theatres that show Kung Fu Triple Features to grimy bars that are a home away from home to seedy doctor's offices with poor lighting. Basket Case is not a film that offers any answers to how we should be with ourselves, our families, our loved ones, our neighbors, but it is one which honors the difficulties in mediating the tensions within all of our relationships, and does so with honesty and compassion.
I don't believe in any actual discrepancy between high and low art. It's all art, you're just anxious about stupid shit. No hierarchy of art actually exists in nature, deal with it. That said, I'm not an idiot. I know what people mean when they use those terms and I understand where Basket Case sits in a cultural context. You can do so much when you're making something "bad" or "trashy." You can really stretch your legs out and breathe, like when a guy with a soul crushing job makes his family go on a boring vacation out to the country, only cool. There's such an amuse-bouche of performance styles in this movie, from broad vaudeville Drunky the Hiccuping Rummy performances…
74 Basically the grind-house splatter version of Ted. Loud, exhausting sleaze, even at a mere 90 minutes, yet packed with audacious low-budget effects and a staggering commitment to the material. Our lives would all be better if we collectively decided to chill the fuck out and watch rollercoaster rides like this every once and awhile. So many marbles were lost in the making of Basket Case, and I couldn't be happier.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.An absurdly gross and grimy no-budget splatter movie about conjoined twin brothers (one a normal upstate dork, the other a murderous meatball attached to his abdomen) forcefully separated from each other by (and getting revenge on) their abusive father and a collection of New York's filthiest medical professionals that eventually transitions into a weird, bleak midnight movie melodrama made under the same conditions as some of the best NYC gutter trash guerilla filmmaking of the 70s, and that to my surprise is actually fairly emotionally invested in the humanity of the giant shrieking meatball monster that shreds peoples faces to a bloody pulp. Almost as sad as it is seedy. Full discussion on episode 143 of my podcast SLEAZOIDS.
The tenant in room 7 is very small, very twisted and very mad! The thing I love most about Basket Case is for the first half of the movie we know there’s something in Duane Bradley’s wicker basket, he feeds it burgers, whispers to it, when will we see it? What’s in the basket? And when we finally see it, it’s stop motion madness at full-force and I love it so dearly. What I would give to watch this for the first time all over again. Brotherly love, gritty New York City streets, that Belial claw, sweet tragic revenge and eccentric characters! Basket Case has it all and is pure B-movie magic. I can always count on Frank Henenlotter to get me out of an emotional funk, mainly because I forget all my problems exist after hearing Belial screaming and reigning terror on those who fuck with his little mutated self. We ♥️ Belial
"I get off at 7 . hint hint!"
The story of Leo Sayer impersonator Duane Bradley (love that crazy hair) who goes to 80's sleazy New York (which you can literally smell through the screen) with bunch of rolled cash notes and a big basket with something special in it, so he can get revenge on a bunch of doctors - as you do! I just love how amateur this is and the fact it does not give a crap about the fact, with dodgy stop motion effects, crappy creature effects and pretty bad acting to boot.
*But given the choice I'd rather watch a movie like this with bad practical effects, than one with bad digital effects any day!
