THE BLACK SHEEP is an ongoing column featuring different takes on films that either the writer HATED, but that the majority of film fans LOVED, or that the writer LOVED, but that most others LOATH. We’re hoping this column will promote constructive and geek fueled discussion. Dig in!
RUMPELSTILTSKIN (1995)
DIRECTED BY MARK JONES
As per usual, let’s start with a bit of brain-buster to get the blood circulating. Straight up, what is your all-time favorite horror movie based on a classic literary fairytale?
After racking the old noggin, I might just go with Neil Jordan’s BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF as my favorite. Or maybe even the subversively sinister 1986 horror anthology DEADTIME STORIES. It’s a tough call. So tough in fact it’s hard to ignore the chintzy, campy, kitschy, and ultra-schlocky B-grade appropriation of Mark Jones’ frightening and fun-filled fairytales. And while LEPRECHAUN tends to get all the publicity in this regard, one movie that has gotten a short shrift among both Jones’ filmography and that of macabre retellings of classic children’s stories is the 1995 release of RUMPELSTILTSKIN. I love this little infant-pilfering-pointy-eared-elfin-ghoul! As RUMPELSTILTSKIN nears its 24th anniversary this Thanksgiving, let’s revisit the film and assess why it’s been a F*cking Black Sheep after all these years!
Believe it or not, RUMPELSTILTSKIN was produced by Joe Ruby and Ken Spears, the two men who created the iconic Scooby-Doo cartoon for Hanna Barbera back in the day. Ruby even co-wrote the film with Mark Jones. Now, knowing this going in ought to let you know exactly what to expect, a silly and cartoonish piece of pabulum that shouldn’t be taken seriously at all. But chances are, given the embarrassingly paltry box-office take of just $306,000 in the U.S. (against an estimated budget of $3 million), not a soul knew this tidbit or cared much about it when the movie was released on November 24, 1995. But the point is, the movie was always intended to be a light and breezy affair not to be taken with the gravity of THE EXORCIST, for example. Of course, Jones’ film canon leading up to the release should have tipped viewers off to this as well.
Story-wise, the flick picks up in the 1400s. The indecorous legend of RUMPELSTILTSKIN, a baby-stealing murderous munchkin, begins when the hunchbacked homicidal homunculus tries to kidnap an infant from a small village. The soulless little bastard is consigned to a jade figurine shaped as a skull for all eternity. However, in present day L.A., a bereaved widow named Shelly Stewart (Kim Johnston Ulrich) stumbles into a curiosity shop with her pal Hildy (Allyce Beasley), where a gypsy-witch woman informs them of the accursed figurine. The woman claims the jade statue can grant wishes, according to lore. Shelly, desperate to return to the arms of her beloved fallen police officer Russell (Jay Pickett), makes a wish to have her husband home and healthy. Unfortunately for her, the wish doesn’t come without the physical manifestation of Rumpelstiltskin (Max Grodenchik), a wise-cracking, shit-talking, baby-stalking murderous-muppet donning hobo regalia and a dangly joker’s hat. Cue the mother*cking carnage!
What I love about this bald and blissful B-movie bomb is how relentlessly confrontational it is. Very little time is wasted setting up the story, so, much of the action features Shelly evading and consequently showing-down with “Uncle Rumpel” head on, directly, every step of the way. The stalk-and-slash template remains focused and indefatigably concentrated throughout the well-paced runtime, with the singular-minded mission of the murderer kidnapping Baby John (played by twin girls Brianna and Brittani Ferrero mind you) coming across as unrelenting as a goddamn TERMINATOR flick. Those movies are obviously superior, but in terms of their narrative thrust, a similarity can be sensed. So often with a low-budget horror film, due to necessity, the creature or villain remains shrouded until the end. But here, Shelly is forced to confront the little evil-elf at every turn, which makes for a fun-filled experience during nearly every scene.
Speaking of fun, who can front on some of the ludicrous lines Rumpelstiltskin spouts throughout his riotous reign of terror? True, many lame lines induce nothing but eye-rolling groans, but come on, “Fucketh me” as he goes plummeting down the mountainside into a fiery crash, MacGruber style? Classic. Or how about nonchalantly squealing “Took care of that bitch” after waylaying one of Shelly’s closest friends? Or how about when promised a close look at an innocent newborn, only to be denied: “Bastards! She gave me her word!” the terrifying troll retorts. Between these campily-delivered but mean-spirited quotes and the recurring theme of Rumpelstiltskin being injured without pain, the humor alone is good enough to atone for some of the misgivings the movie betrays as its progresses. The scene where the little bugger loses an arm, only to shake the maggots of the socket before slamming back into place, is an example of where the horror and humor admirably marry. The core takeaway, you cannot kill someone that doesn’t have a soul!
Where the movie truly stands out though is in the superb makeup led by industry master Kevin Yagher (THE HIDDEN, TRICK OR TREAT, SLEEPY HOLLOW, etc.). Yagher was solely responsible for the makeup of Rumpelstiltskin, which, although remarkably similar to that of Howie Mandel in LITTLE MONSTERS, is both oddly humorous and eerily disquieting at once. There’s even a line of dialogue in the film from Hildy, who says, “no more little monsters,” surely a reference to the aforesaid 1989 film. Still, the physical aesthetic of Rumpel – crouched, hunched, leathery-skinned, huge and pointy-eared with rows of jagged tiny teeth – is unnerving to look at, but also alleviating to listen to. The mean maniacal midget is funny and frightening at once, which is a testament to Yagher’s conception of the character and concomitant performance by Grodenchik.
While the light tone and comedic air take center stage, the violence in the flick is nothing to sneeze at. Rumpel is a vicious little tyke who throws himself around with abandon, landing on victims before gorily gouging throats, ripping off heads, impaling flagpoles, and the like. He punches and bashes his way through walls and windows, and even when he gets hit by a car and has his arm ripped off, he responds by using his severed hand to flip Shelly the bird. What’s most alarming however, surprisingly so given the overall silliness, are the scenes of Rumpel physically advancing on and threatening Baby John. It’s a cheap and easy ploy endangering an infant, I know, but to see Rumpel delight over the thought of devouring John is pretty damn unsettling.
Adding to the merits of the movie is DP Douglas Milsome, who worked as a lighting cameraman on FULL METAL JACKET and second unit director on THE SHINING for crying out loud. What he’s able to capture visually on location in L.A. with such a small budget ameliorates the entire endeavor. The same can be said for the music in the movie composed by Charles Bernstein (CUJO, THE ENTITY, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, etc.), a horror heavyweight who understands how to manipulate emotions through certain soundscapes. These creative aspects don’t make the movie great, by any means, but without them, the movie would likely deserve its atrocious reputation.
Listen, RUMPELSTILTSKIN is no award-winner, we all understand that. However, the movie is much better than the 10% box-office return it suffered on its already modest budget. It’s fast, fun, funny, gory, and knowingly pokes fun of itself as nothing more than a dark farcical fairytale. Mark Jones has created and owned this lane for quite a while now, and knows how to properly balance tongue-in-cheek camp with blade-in-throat kills. RUMPELSTILTSKIN is a F*cking Black Sheep of a horror movie fairytale everyone should be grateful for this Thanksgiving!