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Plot: experimental treatment turns disgraced doctor into homicidal maniac.

Intensive Care is the stuff of legend in the history of Dutch cinema, horror and otherwise. Conceived by the dynamic duo of director Dorna X. De Rouveroy - daughter of Robert Rouveroy, who did uncredited special effects work on David Cronenberg’s Videodrome (1983) – and producer Ruud den Dryver as the Dutch-Belgian alternative to Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980). Announced with big fanfare and extensive media coverage, both televised and in print, Intensive Care failed to do much of anything. Allegedly a hit in Russian cineplexes and sold to 50 countries worldwide Intensive Care bombed spectacularly at home. Only 20 copies were produced for multiplexes, it played only for a week in Dutch cinemas (attracting a mere 5,000 spectators), and never was officially released in Belgium. In Nederhorror circles there were simply plain better alternatives such as Amsterdamned (1988) and De Johnsons (1992) and as such it remains an item of deserved obscurity and infamy and a quaint curiosity.

With an estimated budget of somewhere between 1,8 and 2 million gulden, in part funded by the Dutch Film Fund and private investors, and filmed at the Slotervaartziekenhuis general hospital in Amsterdam with additional location shooting in Belgium and France this was meant to launch a franchise. Since the international market was always the aim it was shot in Dutch and English simultaneously and even the prerequisite faded American star was cast. That star was George Kennedy, winner of the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor and nominee for the corresponding Golden Globe for Cool Hand Luke (1967). He of The Dirty Dozen (1967), Airport (1970), and Earthquake (1974). This wasn’t even Kennedy’s first foray into independent horror as before his career revival with the Naked Gun (1988-1994) he was in Just Before Dawn (1981). Allegedly Kennedy filmed his scenes, totaling in some 8 or so minutes of actual screentime, in a single day taking most of the budget with him.

As for the Dutch and Belgian talent there was Nada van Nie, famous around these parts for her turn in the racy comedy Honneponnetje (1988). Nada put on a few pounds in the three years in between, but they look good on her. Intensive Care pretty much buried her career. From 1999 to 2002 she was regular on Dutch television just the way she was prior to Honneponnetje (1988). Nada has not acted in any theatrical releases since 2004 and 2008 and it appears family life has taken precedence. Koen Wauters was the up-and-coming Belgian teen idol of the day as the charismatic frontman of Belgian pop-rock band Clouseau. Wauters was the subject of a portrait by documentary maker Paul Jambers which elevated his profile considerably. Intensive Care was intended to be his star-making turn and it heavily capitalized on his popularity with the teen set. The movie was marketed in all the usual tabloid and teen rags. Wauters had previously acted in the drama My Blue Heaven (1990). He has since become a veritable media institution in the Flemish television landscape reinventing himself as a host, quizmaster, and general devil-do-all. His band Clouseau has become an implacable monument of contemporary pop, an evergreen, and remains incredibly popular to this day.

Dr. Bruckner (George Kennedy) is a brilliant surgeon on the verge of a scientific – and medical breakthrough that will revolutionize treatments within his field of expertise. After mishandling a standard operating procedure all funding for his research is summarily pulled on questionable ethic – and moral grounds, plus he’s terminated of his institution with immediate effect by his direct superior, the benevolent Dr. Horvath (Jules Croiset). Angrily Bruckner storms off and moments later he’s caught in a fiery road collision. The disgraced doctor sustains third-degree burns on at least 90 percent of his body and falls into a seven-year coma. On New Years’ Eve the heavily disfigured Dr. Bruckner (Martin Hofstra) comes to life and decides to enact his homicidal retribution starting with the resident hospital staff before fleeing into the night. In a nearby neighborhood Amy (Nada van Nie) is babysitting her precocious little brother Bobby (Michiel Hess) while trying to ward off the advances from off-duty nurse Peter (Koen Wauters) and leather jacket wearing bad boy Ted (Dick van den Toorn). As the bodies start to pile and Bruckner singles Amy out for extermination Inspector Fox (Fred Van Kuyk) is put on the case. Will anybody be able to stop the blade-wielding murderous surgeon?

What is there possibly to be said about a movie having the gall to call itself Intensive Care, and then place the majority of the action outside of a hospital? The screenplay - a collaborative effort between Dorna X. De Rouveroy and Ruud Den Dryver with input from Leon de Winter - was based on an original script by Hans Heijnen is a series of unfortunate events that abides by most of the subgenre’s 1980s rules while also surprisingly foreshadowing the more sanitized approach of the dawning decade. In what is perhaps its greatest error of judgement the international English-language version tries to pass off the Dutch and Belgian locales as America, Washington state to be exact. The choice of victims is completely arbitrary and random that it gives no insight into the means, motivation, and opportunity of the perpetrator. Horvath never becomes a target despite slasher logic would brand him a prime candidate. Ted and the police officers have nothing to do with Bruckner’s case, yet are sliced for no reason. The special effects – and make-up work from Harry Wiessenhaan, Sjoerd Didden and Floris Sculler, respectively, are often lambasted and ragged upon. Wrongly so, in our opinion. They may be a bit uneventful and colorless in the grand scheme of things and they in no way are a match for, say, Bloody Moon (1981) or Pieces (1982) – but, then again, Nada van Nie was no Olivia Pascal either – but, damn, if they’re not budget-efficient. By 1988 underground directors as Wim Vink were doing far more interesting things on non-existing budgets. Above all else, Intensive Care was a wasted opportunity. This could’ve been grand.

Where else are going to see something as utterly deranged the following: when Peter sustains multiple stabwounds and a beating by Bruckner, Amy runs to his rescue sobbing and panicky, spouting the Dutch line that single-handedly ensured Intensive Care’s elevation into cinematic immortality and enshrining into the De Nacht van Wansmaak Hall of Fame, “do you want me to get some band-aid? Gollygosh!Intensive Care had the gall to make everybody speak English even though the great majority of them either weren’t native speakers or had to learn their lines phonetically. George Kennedy knew what a turkey this was turning out to be, and hammed it up gloriously. Jules Croiset, the serious Dutch actor, is visibly uncomfortable through out – and Nada van Nie is passively resigned to the fact that, yes, her top has to come off again. Not to put too much of a fine point on it, but the budget that went into the ridiculously overblown piece of pyrotechnics for the car accident was better spent on hiring Ted Rusoff and his usual drunk dubbers. If the Italians could hire him for a plate of spaghetti, what’s the excuse here? Even Rabid Grannies (1988) was able to overcome the language problem better or at least was consistently funny in doing so. We’ll defend Johan Vandewoestijne (or James Desert) over this any day of the week. In those days before Calvaire (2004) and Sint (2010) Nederhorror wasn’t what it is today.

To the surprise of absolutely no one Intensive Care was torn to shreds by the Belgian and Dutch press. As legend has it the director’s cut ran 90 minutes, but the theatrical print that saw very limited release only ran for 74. In the thirty years since it has seen very limited, almost collectible-level, select release on various home media here and there. As is tradition it has been shown annually (or closest to it) as part of the traveling De Nacht van de Wansmaak (Night Of Bad Taste) festival across Belgium and the Netherlands. A sequel was briefly talked about, starring Belgian goalkeeper Jean-Marie Pfaff, but understandably never materialized.

So what happened to Dorna X. De Rouveroy? She returned some eight years later with the thriller An Amsterdam Tale (1999) and got an even worse reception. Since then she has wisely turned to television where she has cornered a niche in directing documentaries pertaining military history and the two World Wars. Producer Ruud Den Dryver redeemed himself in the eyes of the press and detractors with the Willem Elsschot adaptation Lijmen/Het Been (2000) (or The Publishers, internationally) from director Robbe de Hert and remains active to this day. Koen Wauters refuses to acknowledge Intensive Care exists. Nada van Nie probably likes to pretend it never happened, and is content living as a retiree/housewife. Will Intensive Care ever be restored to its mythical 90-minute original? Three decades’ worth of hindsight have not dulled the fascinating mystery behind Intensive Care, how it fumbled the slasher so gloriously, and its subsequent unceremonious burial. Did Wauters and van Nie use their collective clout to have and keep it buried? It’s not outside of the realm of possibility – and would explain Intensive Care’s scarcity on any format or streaming service. If you do find it somewhere, pick it up – and be amazed.

Plot: boarding school pupil discovers the outside world. Hilarity ensues…

Honneponnetje (released internationally as Honeybun) was the third movie for director Ruud van Hemert who became famous for Schatjes! (1984) and Mama Is Boos! (1988). His two previous movies were satirical black comedies about the dysfunctionality of the typical 1980s Dutch nuclear family and saw the director dealing with his kids and with a particularly nasty divorce, respectively. Honeybun is much lighter fare as it is a rather straightforward raunchy teen comedy. Despite its naive charm and innocuous outlook on modern city life Honeybun would effectively bury van Hemert’s cinematic career for a good 17 years. Honeybun launched the career of Nada van Nie, the titular starlet – but in retrospect ended hurting her as she was typecast almost immediately after.

During the credit sequence we are introduced to Honneponnetje (Nada van Nie) in the middle of bathing. Since this aims to be a somewhat respectable movie Honneponnetje (Dutch word for Honeybun, or sweetheart) - a pupil at the strictly Catholic Anna Regina boarding school for girls, an elite institute presided over by a convent of uptight, pedantic nuns - is covered in a semi-transparent gown. Ensuring that the audience knows exactly the kind of humor Honeybun is aiming for, van Nie’s chest pops out, much to the chagrin of the nuns in congress, while reading a penny dreadful by the name of “Annet’s Liefdeszang” (“Annet’s Lovesong”) during morning mass. We learn that it’s Honeybun’s 16th birthday, and the tacky novel pushes her to discover the many wonders of the big city, in this case: Amsterdam.

Nada van Nie was a young television actress whose star had risen high enough to warrant an excursion into cinema. Van Nie was the daughter of filmmaker René van Nie, who wrote/directed 5 movies from 1974 to 1982. In the late 1980s, and mainly thanks to her work in Dutch and German sitcoms, Nada van Nie (who, like many a starlet, attempted to launch a singing career parallel to her acting) was held up as the new promise for Dutch cinema. Unfortunately her choice of roles would effectively kill her career in 1991. After the disastrous Intensive Care (1991) van Nie reinvented herself as a TV host (for RTL 4 and SBS 6), columnist (for Top Santé, Femme, and the saturday edition of VROUW Telegraaf) and as an ambassador for MYBODY. Van Nie has only acted sporadically since the early nineties. Not that her semi-retirement should be considered an irreparable loss for Lowlands cinema.

The screenplay, which isn’t exactly high art and banks almost entirely on van Nie’s considerable natural assets, is rife with running gags and stock characters. Van Nie’s Honeybun is your stereotypical good-natured but naive and not terribly bright small-city girl. Half of the movie’s gags revolve around the fact that van Nie has breasts. This is thoroughly emphasized when after having fled the boarding school Honeybun sheds her restrictive school uniform for the latest in candy colored 1980s fashion. The camera takes a good long look at van Nie’s plump chest ensuring that we’ve noticed that she’s wearing a crucifix, but not a bra. This is supposed to convey that she’s a good but naive Christian girl. Every male character, with exception of Harry (Marc Hazewinkel), almost without fault acts as a potential predator. At the end of the second act Honeybun meets an actual sexual predator, the entire thing is played for laughs for the most part. Another running gag is that every male, including Harry, will take a good long look at Honeybun’s chest, cos that is supposedly what passes for humor. Authority figures, be they law enforcement, the convent at the institute, or even parental figures, are more of a hindrance than help. Minorities are drawn in broad, often derogatory strokes.

Characterizations mostly depend on all the known stereotypes. Harry is painted initially as a denim, leather jacket wearing bad boy – but he turns out to be the nicest male character by a wide margin. When Honeybun meets Apollo Romanski (Herbert Flack), a thinly-veiled caricature of Polish-American director Roman Polanski (who in 1977 was arrested and charged with statutory rape of a 13 year-old girl), a producer of adult entertainment who very much wants to audition Honeybun, is a sleazebag of the highest order. Flack is visibly having a blast playing the part as he parlays himself into giving Honeybun an oil massage in his ornately decorated loft. Both parents appear estranged from their daughter. In a scene that serves to set up a third act running gag Honeybun is urged to call home. When she does, her father interprets her demand for “loose change” for “ransom” in the movie’s cleverest linguistic joke. The script never bothers to explain why the disappearance of a random 16 year old girl would be a concern of National Security, nor why it would warrant a citywide lockdown, complete with the police force and military working together, and aerial support.

1786180,z+Bg4oJPl3Uow68TZvwwLwUroV4SU8PL9AvPW44uu0r37f0lxjx99739iAnbLhL0RGx37Cc1sqYCy1AsbIYeeA==To its credit the screenplay does play up Honeybun’s interaction with the world and the people inhabiting it for maximum comedic effect. Most of the jokes are derived from the good Catholic girl's naiveté and sheltered upbringing. The most prominent of these are that every time another character says something racy/tacky/dirty, Honeybun will do the Sign of the Cross (as they do in prayer). In return, every time Honeybun says something unintentionally racy/tacky/dirty, Harry will spit out his drink/food. Parental - and authority figures are cursing all the time with a specific word, which roughly translates to “damn!” or “darn!" The police detective assigned to the case will always tell what time it is by looking at the arm opposite of the one his watch is on.

When walking around in a bad part of town, Honeybun is repeatedly offered drugs, or mistaken for a hooker – although not always in that order. Men and women alike lust after Honeybun. It's all charming and innocuous, if it weren't so downright insulting. The entire second act is contingent on conjecture by Mother Superior (Nora Kretz) that Honeybun must have been kidnapped following her disappearance from the institution. No one bothers so much as to canvas the perimeter, or talk to Honeybun’s friends at the Anna Regina boarding school. Then again, Anna Regina is such an elite institute that the nuns have to work construction in a wing under renovation during the off-hours. One of the second – and third act b-plots is that Anna Regina urgently needs a cash injection to finish up said renovations on some of its wings. As it turns out Honeybun’s parents (Hans Man in ’t Veld and Marijke Merckens) are, of course, the prime benefactors. An eleventh hour ecclesiastical rescue mission would be lifted almost wholesale in Sister Act (1992).

Scene-to-scene continuity is shaky in parts. In a chase scene early on the weather is alternatively either a torrential downpour or completely dry. Harry sustains a minor head lesion that curiously changes place as the movie progresses. As a lead up to one of the gravest continuity errors (one perhaps kept in to appease the censors) Honeybun sheds her figure-fitting pink top in Harry’s apartment. This leads to the iconic scene where she observes her magnificent globes in the mirror for the first time to her own general wide-eyed bewilderment. Later when Honeybun is sleeping Harry gives in to temptation and snaps a polaroid picture of his half-naked and uninhibited guest. Even though she was clearly topless when the picture was taken, the finished polaroid strategically covers her most visible assets. For some reason Honeybun’s top is back on when she wakes up the next morning. As Honeybun was aimed at a teen audience it never becomes sleazy or smutty. It would have benefitted tremendously from abstaining from its heavy-handed moralizing.

Honeybun is regarded as the second to worst Dutch movie ever, even though it attracted a respectable 300,000 viewers at the box office. Filmed in Amsterdam, the Netherlands and at the abby Bonne-Espérance in Vellereille-les-Brayeux, Belgium – it launched the brief career of starlet Nada van Nie. Open casting sessions were held at Hotel Krasnapolsky in Amsterdam, van Nie won the part without having officially auditioned. Nada van Nie was 21 at the time of the shooting. The wide-eyed, and nubile Nada van Nie isn’t much of an actress and is more famous for her considerable chest and posterior than her acting skills. Kenneth Herdigein was cast for the role of Harry, but he hurt his knee jumping off a ladder for a scene. He was replaced at the last minute by Marc Hazewinkel. The movie was distributed in North America by Cannon Films, the (now-defunct) company owned by trash moguls Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, as Honeybun. Cannon Films specialized in action b-movies, but dabbled in a variety of other exploitation subgenres. Honeybun was released the same year as the Jean-Claude van Damme actioner Bloodsport. Nada van Nie would star in the infamous Dutch-Belgian horror co-production Intensive Care (1991) some three years later. No wonder van Nie would act only sporadically after crashing so legendary and so spectacularly...