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Category: Stormi Maya

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Plot: vigilante cop purges town of criminals and other undesirables.

In the eight years separating War Machine (2010) and Death Kiss (2018) there has been exponential evolution in the work of California writer-director Rene Perez. Not only did he helm the lucrative The Dead and the Damned (2011-2015) and Playing with Dolls (2015-2017) franchises, he also has started paying homage to classic titles that were influential on his own work. A benefit of sort is that Little Red Riding Hood (2016) appears to be the last of his European fairytale adaptations. It genuinely makes you wish Perez would branch out of horror a little and try out different genres. With an average of two-to-four productions per year Perez dedicated the first half of 2018 to paying tribute to his favorite movies, namely The Punisher (1989, 2004) and Death Wish (1974, 2018) with The Punished (2018) and Death Kiss (2018), respectively. Death Kiss is, for all intents and purposes, the best Rene Perez production thus far.

Written, photographed, directed, and scored by Rene Perez Death Kiss oozes with that grime retro aesthetic of urban decay and sparse production design that defined the best, or most memorable, of 70s exploitation. Death Kiss’ most obvious forebear is the Michael Winner directed Charles Bronson actioner Death Wish (1974) and there’s a fair bit of the Clint Eastwood western High Plains Drifter (1973) to even things out. In other words, Death Kiss is an old-fashioned vigilante justice action-thriller. Death Kiss is minimalist in every respect. The premise is as basic as these things come, and the main cast is all but four people with only a handful of extras. The greatest asset to the production is Hungarian actor Robert Kovacs who has the Bronson style and mannerisms down to a T. It’s uncanny how close of an approximation Kovacs is to the late Bronson, and the resemblance is striking, even if he might not be half the actor Bronson was back in the day. It seems that Perez has found a muse in Kovacs (who subsequently took up the Robert Bronzi alias) as he returned in future Perez features.

In an act of penance rogue cop K (Robert Kovacs, as Robert Bronzi) has taken to the streets of an unspecified California town and vowed to rid it of its criminal element; be they drugdealers, human traffickers, and other assorted undesirables. Years ago a shootout with druglord Tyrell (Richard Tyson) resulted in a number of civilian casualties and property damage, something which he greatly regretted and he has been working to make amends for ever since. For the past several years K has been delivering money to the mailbox of Ana (Eva Hamilton) and her wheelchair using daughter Isabel (Leia Perez). With the help of Justice Radio host Dan Forthright (Daniel Baldwin) K has been able to track down Tyrell and his gang. He draws the ire of Tyrell by extracting helpless platinum blonde Tanya (Stormi Maya) from their heavily guarded compound. In the resulting gunfight K manages to dispose of Torch (Reese Austyn) and Tyrell’s bodyguard (J.D. Angstadt) sending the druglord into hiding with his girlfriend Malorie (Malorie Glavan). With the threat of bodily harm still looming over Ana and Isabel a confrontation between K and Tyrell seems all but inevitable…

Before anything else Death Kiss is a tribute to the 1970s grindhouse exploitation and more specifically a valentine to Michael Winner’s revenge fantasy Death Wish (1974) and its gradually underwhelming sequels. Shot to next for nothing in California Death Kiss is a near-plotless pastiche of every known convention and recreation over every recognizable scene from the Winner original with an added dose of gunfire and gore to drag it into the 21st century. To drive the point home Kovacs’ character has a similar build and wardrobe as the late Bronson and that he simply calls himself K (no doubt in reference to Paul Kersey). As with the original Death Kiss wants nothing more than to be a taboo-breaker and Daniel Baldwin’s Justice Radio host discusses everything from institutionalized disenfranchisement, violence and crime, racism, to the merits of vigilantism, law enforcement malfeasance, and widespread corruption in politics and the electorate. Baldwin delivers his monologues on these hot button issues with near-religious fervor and zeal giving credence to the idea that Perez cares about these topics. If anything, it gave a good hint of Perez’ likely political affiliations, something which his manifesto The Insurrection (2020) (especially egregious and strangely prophetical in light of the actual January 6, 2021 Capitol insurrection) and Pro God - Pro Gun (2022) have served to strengthen. Perez is the polar opposite of Neil Breen and he’ll let you know at every turn.

To his everlasting credit Rene Perez always knew how to stage and lens an action scene, even as far as back as his laughably inept Little Red Riding Hood (2016) (thankfully Alanna Forte and Irina Levadneva provided the proverbial fireworks there). This being a Rene Perez feature there are a few headscratching moments. In the first act it is established that Ana feels unsafe and during the second act K instructs her how to handle a rifle. The lack of thematic follow-through in the closing act makes you wonder why the entire subplot was introduced in the first place. Had there been a third act scene where Ana saves K from certain death thanks to her newly-acquired marksman skills then at least there would have been some kind of narrative payoff. In another scene K has Stormi Maya’s Tanya bloodily kill her captor, but the scene seems to exist solely to have Maya wield a gun, as K never again (either before or after) will be seen exacting such punishment. Daniel Baldwin’s Dan Fortright acts as both as a Greek chorus and a replacement internal monologue for Robert Kovacs’ K, very much in the same way as Richard Tyson has done, and continues to do, for the Playing with Dolls (2015-2017) franchise. Except that Fortright has no arc of his own and mostly exists to humanize the cipher-like K. The special effects from Marcus Koch and Oliver Müller are put to good use once again. For an action-thriller the gore is either excessive or absent.

As these things go any Rene Perez feature is measured by the quality of the babes and here Eva Hamilton and Stormi Maya raise the temperatures. Stormi has been with Perez since Playing with Dolls: Havoc (2017) and Perez debutant Eva Hamilton (apparently the new brunette Perez muse with Nicole Stark notably absent) would be seen again in The Dragon Unleashed (2018) and his other exploitation tribute Cabal (2020). It wouldn’t be a Rene Perez film without at least one topless scene and Death Kiss has both Hamilton and Maya flaunting their bust. Death Kiss is the sort of stylistic exercise that makes you wish Rene Perez would finally helm that long awaited LETHAL Ladies imitation we know he has been pining to make. Imagine what a director like Perez could do with a stretch of beach, palm trees, a warm color palette and a female ensemble cast in pastel-colored bikinis. If Andy Sidaris could do it in the 80s and 90s with the LETHAL Ladies and Jim Wynorski made a career out of boobs, so can he. All it takes is some perfunctory story to line up Alanna Forte, Elonda Seawood, Eva Hamilton, Spring Inés Peña, Jenny Allford, Omnia Bixler, Irina Levadneva, and Stormi Maya; Breen babes Jennifer Autry, Victoria Viveiros, and Danielle Andrade or low budget genre queens as Samantha Robinson, Fulvia Santoni, Madeline Brumby, Ellie Church or Alyss Winkler against his usual team of stuntmen. Hell, he could call it B.U.S.T. (or Branch of Unity, Strategy & Tactics). Just make it happen, Rene. Eventually someone’s gotta do it.

If Death Kiss is proof of anything it’s that Perez has finally come to the point was he has assembled the necessary skills to convincingly imitate the very films he was inspired by. Death Kiss effectively captures the misanthropy, the nihilism, the gratuitous violence, and rampant urban decay that made Death Wish (1974) the cinematic classic that it is. The ambiguous open ending leaves the door wide open for potential sequels, but if Perez is smart he’s not going to dilude Death Kiss by any unnecessary sequels. After all it were four sequels that directly sent Death Wish to its death throes. Death Kiss is a fine piece of low budget filmmaking exactly because it is a stand-alone feature. If Rene Perez does want to do capitalize on a trend he’d better put a gun in Eva Hamilton’s hand and make his female-centric action flicks as Furie (2019) or Maria (2019). Given his penchant for helming derivates or imitations of classic action cinema, it makes you wish how Perez would fare in doing a Die Hard (1988), The Terminator (1984), Above the Law (1988), Under Siege (1992), Commando (1985), or Hard Target (1993) imitation. That, a much overdue Nemesis (1992) sequel, or that Ginger (1971) or Hard Ticket to Hawaii (1987) derivate he was destined to direct. In little less than a decade Perez has become a suprisingly effective and brutally efficient low budget filmmaker. Bravo, Rene.

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Plot: vacationers run afoul of escaped masked serial murderer.

It’s been a strange and confusing journey going from the barely there slashing of Playing with Dolls (2015) to the functional competence of Playing with Dolls: Bloodlust (2016) only to arrive at the utterly minimalist and brutally utilitarian Playing with Dolls: Havoc. Rene Perez is a director with authorial intentions, dangerous enthusiasm, but rarely the means to realize his visions. Since debuting in 2010 Perez has become something of a successor to Albert Pyun as he churns out several micro budget epics every year. Along with The Dead and the Damned (2011-2015) his Playing with Dolls (2015-2017) franchise has proven resilient despite its rampant banality and overall redundancy. None of the installments are particularly strong by any metric one chooses to employ and it’s anybody’s guess why Rene chose this to expand upon. After Playing with Dolls: Havoc the ongoing franchise was duly rebranded to the much shorter Havoc with the next sequel simply dubbed Cry Havoc (2019) arriving a scant two years later.

Under any of the usual circumstances the slasher is the easiest of horror subgenres to produce and direct. In its most typical and standardized form there’s little that can go wrong, although that occasionally does happen as Dutch-Belgian slasher Intensive Care (1991) went on to prove so historically and catastrophically. Rene Perez always stacks his movies with beautiful women and compared to the surrounding entries the women in Playing with Dolls: Havoc (2017) are not as pneumatically-enhanced as they usually are. Nicole Stark, Wilma Elles, and Malorie Glavan (a poor man’s Melissa McCarthy) all are normally proportioned and Glavan is the rare plus size actress in Perez stock company. A nice change of pace, all things considered. This movie’s prerequisite ditzy blonde is Playboy Croatia and Venezuela Playmate (October, 2015) and Penthouse Pet of the Month (March, 2022) Stormi Maya (not sporting her usual aphro puff) who – in tradition of Alanna Forte and Elonda Seawood before her – gets to show off her impressive fake ass titties. Like Russ Meyer, Pete Walker, Andy Sidaris, and Jim Wynorski before him Rene Perez loves large breasted women, especially if they are platinum blondes. Any day now we’re expecting Rene to helm that long awaited LETHAL Ladies derivate (one we’d very much would like to see) with roles for Forte, Seawood, Maya, and other assorted bosomy Perez babes.

Platinum blonde Annabelle (Stormi Maya) follows clues and is rewarded with stacks of money until she reaches her destination point. There she’s attacked by known mass murderer Prisoner AYO-886 (J.D. Angstadt) who the Echo para-military unit securing the caves simply refer to as Havoc. As Havoc breaks free from his chains and escapes into the densely forested region that the caves are in the soldiers embark on a perilous quest to contain the situation to the best of their ability. Much of which will prove fatal. Meanwhile married couple Sara Curry (Nicole Stark) and her husband Timothy (Kyle Clarke) have retreated back to the country to spent a romantic weekend at their remote luxury cabin. Coming along are maintenance man Bob (John Scuderi) and housekeeper Alicia (Malorie Glavan). In another part of town Mia (Wilma Elles, as Jade Ellis) is experiencing car trouble and soon finds the vehicle and herself stranded near the cabin. Mia’s unexpected intrusion brings to light long simmering problems in the couple’s marriage and before long all three are at each other’s throat. What they don’t know is that Havoc has escaped into the nearby woods and soon will be at theirs…

As before the opening setpiece has nothing to do with, or will have no bearing on, everything that follows, nor will it ever be referenced again for that matter. While Playing with Dolls: Havoc is by far the most technically solid entry thus far - even if it takes a few liberties with what little previous two episodes took ages to establish – there’s plenty of wasted potential abound. Prisoner AYO-886 or Havoc has been reduced to a brute, mute force of nature and this chapter would probably have been far more effective as a siege horror movie in tradition of Night of the Living Dead (1968) or The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976). The sense of isolation is palatable and while the occupants of the cabin do their fair share of bickering amongst themselves, it’s never the reason why they end up butchered in short order by Havoc. Havoc still has the tendency to become practically a ghost whenever the script paints itself in a corner. Moreover Perez’ screenplay categorically refuses to offer any explanation for anything. Why hasn’t law enforcement gotten wise to the case yet? Why does nobody come looking for any of the previous victims? Who is Havoc and why does he kill? By what criterions does Havoc let his victims live? What became of or happened to the elderly Dane that owned the cabin in the original? Even by lowly American slasher standards Playing with Dolls: Havoc has treacherously little story. On the plus side, it’s also the first Playing with Dolls chapter wherein Richard Tyson and Marilyn Robrahm are unaccounted for. His Scopophilio is never mentioned by name, but only referred to as “the master”. Probably for the better too as Perez had no interest in developing said subplot further as it slowly started bogging the franchise down.

The only thing besides Stormi Maya (and her willingness to take her top off) that Playing with Dolls: Havoc has going for it is the special effects work from Marcus Koch and Oliver Poser (as Oliver Müller). Koch and Poser provide mostly gratuitous fountains of blood and even a few admittedly good looking prosthetic effects. Most of it will probably appeal to fans of masters of gore Olaf Ittenbach, Andreas Schnaas, and Alex Chandon. Stormi Maya Jellison is the third curvy African-American girl (preceded by Alanna Forte in tbe original and Elonda Seawood in the first sequel) in as many episodes and like the other characters here her cold opportunist doesn’t remotely deserve to die as gruesomely and bloodily as they inevitably all do. Of all the Playing with Dolls episodes up until this point this set of characters was by far the most sympathetic.

The dismantling of the victims takes a turn for the creative while Perez’ writing remains as thin as always and his direction finally seems to approach what can be cautiously called competent. Perez could probably built a steady career with either The Asylum or TomCat Films and at this point it would be interesting for him to try his hand at different genres. The whole jilted lovers main plot is something out of a classic gothic horror and Nicole Stark would have been stellar as a Barbara Steele surrogate. With access to Castello di Amorosa in Napa Valley the plot would have worked as a Castle Of Blood (1964) or Nightmare Castle (1965) reworking, either as a period piece or in a contemporary setting. Perez would be the ideal candidate to give Blood Of the Virgins (1967), The Devil’s Wedding Night (1973) or Nude For Satan (1974) a much-needed make-over.

You have admire the tenacity and sheer force of will that Rene Perez puts into each and every one of his mini-epics. Like Albert Pyun before him Perez is never shy about imitating a popular brand or doing his own demented take on an established formula. Perez had the cojones to helm Death Kiss (2018) and The Punished (2018), his take on Death Wish (1974, 2018) and The Punisher (1989, 2004), respectively. In all honesty, we tend to like Perez’ take on classic European fairytales far more than the rest of his repertoire at this point. The Wishing Forest (2018) seems to be the halfway point between his fairtytale yarns and Playing with Dolls. While working on the fringes of cinema can have its benefits there’s more than enough precedent in America alone that a lack of budget not necessarily precludes a lack of talent and resourcefulness. Lloyd Lee Barnett’s Ninja Apocalypse (2014) was able to do a lot with very little and Benjamin Combes’ Commando Ninja (2018) not only was the perfect throwback to over-the-top 80s action, what it lacked in budget it made up in sheer inventiveness and enthusiasm. Neither of which Playing with Dolls has displayed three episodes in. There’s not many ways to do a slasher wrong, but Rene Perez has apparently done just that. If Playing with Dolls: Bloodlust (2016) had a pulse, then Playing with Dolls: Havoc sees Perez’ beast lumbering around with blood on its hands and murder on its mind.