I’m not sure if Winterbeast qualifies as a “Halloween” movie. I’m not even sure if Winterbeast qualifies as an actual movie, for that matter. It’s probably because 70% of the time I have absolutely no idea what the fuck is going on in Winterbeast.
What I do know is that Winterbeast rules.
Despite the word “winter” appearing in the title, you’ll be treated to a “Fall Foliage Festival,” a small pumpkin patch and a few plastic jack-o-lanterns here and there for no apparent reason. Halloween is never directly mentioned, and there’s definitely nothing particularly festive about the film, but the Foliage Festival banner claims it’s somewhere between October 11th and 12th and that’s pretty close. Besides, when you have this many awesome stop motion, B-grade-Harryhausen monsters running amuck, a couple plastic jacks and a sign work just fine for The Shindig.
As far as I can tell, Winterbeast revolves around a couple mountain rangers, a haunted totem pole, some demonic Indian mumbojumbo and a gateway to hell.
What you’ll get feels like a half-finished cavalcade of kitchen sink nonsense, awesome over-acting, a script that seems to suffer from Alzheimer’s and more plaid than you can shake a walking stick at.
Ranger Whitman’s hero-mustache game is on lock-down and his New England accent could scrape ice off a frozen windsheild. Mr. Sheldon makes for a formidable opponent in the “who can yell louder in this same argument we’ve been having for the last 40 minutes” showdown that is this movie’s plot.
The ridiculous Sheldon shows up early and takes this production to new heights, before summarily walking away with the picture entirely by the climax. Especially bizarre is his impromptu dance number to the creepiest version of “Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be” that’s ever been committed to vinyl. I love this dude and he’s everything that’s weird and insane and awesome about this movie.
I can’t recommend this to everyone, or even a lot of people. But there’s a certain kind of film fan out there who’s bread and butter consists of exactly the kind of low-budget, amateur madness that is the heart and soul of Winterbeast.
But don’t take my word for it, you can just go ahead watch it yourself!
Winterbeast (1991) from Bo Ransdell on Vimeo.
I give it 2 plastic jack-o-lanterns and 4 stop motion monsters up!
Designation: Treat!