Frig Off, Frig It, and Frig You: Psycho Goreman

The greatest evil in the universe (played by Matthew Ninaber, voiced by Steven Vlahos) is imprisoned on a backwater planet and is accidentally released by Mimi (Nita-Josee Hanna), a little girl who dominates at the bizarre homebrewed sport of Crazy Ball but cannot really connect with people outside her own family (and maybe not even them). He rises to slaughter the world before heading on to the next, but unfortunately for this intergalactic warlord, the one gee gaw that can keep him in check is in that little girl’s possession. She’s not about to give it up, and she’s not about to let him run amok without her say so. Of course, every girl’s new alien monster friend needs a cool name …

She and her brother Luke (Owen Myre) workshop and come up with the ultimate name: Psycho Goreman. PG for short, of course. As it turns out, the release of Mimi and Luke’s new pal has not gone unnoticed by the religious tyrannical aliens who put him in his grave-prison to suffer eternally. These Templars have dispatched their malicious, cruel leader Pandora (played by Kristen MacCulloch, voiced by Anna Tierney) to destroy him once and for all. As well, PG’s own gang of ne’er-do-wells are on their way to see their old boss, though the interim leader Darkscream (Alex Chung) might have a surprise of his own to announce as well as a crown to reveal …

Writer/director Steven Kostanski offers up heaping helpings of rubber monsters and gooey, gory horror makeup effects in a romp of a science fiction/horror/comedy with the gleeful Psycho Goreman (2020).

There is something charming about a movie that kicks out all the stops while slamming together genre elements in unexpected ways. When I first caught wind of this movie, I suspected it would be unusual. I did not expect it to have quite as much heart as it does, which is kind of silly to say about a flick with a name like Psycho Goreman. However, heart is has and in spades. It also has kids finding something long buried and dredging it up, kids who then connect with an alien in a very deep way. Sure, Spielberg put his stamp upon such material in the 1980s with E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982). Sure, in the forty years since, we have seen other interpretations, some which work (the Stranger Things series on Netflix) and some that aren’t wholly successful in their efforts (Tobe Hooper’s 1986 spin on Invaders From Mars is not as much fun as it thinks it is). 2020 allowed Kostanski the chance to bring yet another riff on the subject and its familiar storyline. It’s neither as sweet nor as nostalgic as Spielberg’s influential film. In fact, for much of the running time Psycho Goreman comes across as E.T.‘s bigger, brattier brother. However, it nevertheless delivers a storyline that builds to a satisfying emotional climax. It’s a movie with two hearts. One is ripped from its opponent’s chest and the other beats away safely inside the picture itself, made evident by both the characters and their storyline as well as the obvious love the filmmakers have for this genre, this picture, and this weird, wonderful medley of practical effects and wonky storytelling.

The real treat of the movie is watching all the moving parts slowly come together over time. We have the dysfunctional family aspect, we have the promise of slaughter, we have the vibe from Empire Pictures’ 1980s era creature features, and we have the ticking clock of a showdown between a space angel and a space devil. It’s a wild little flick that manages to offer up charm, wit, and heart along with its surrealism and gross outs. It’s a mating of low and high art, and although it’s not particularly scary, it is a memorable little flick.

Kostanski kicked off his career with a group of likeminded Canadian horror/comedy afficionados. Known as Astron-6, the group was responsible for a handful of blissfully offensive or shocking features (e.g., 2011’s Manborg and Father’s Day), clever shorts (like 2012’s Bio-Cop and 2018’s Chowboys: An American Folktale), and a few series (e.g., Divorced Dad), each of which lampoon genres and yet are clearly affectionate toward them. A couple of references to those flicks appear here, most notably the inclusion of a Bio-Cop character played by Robert Homer, the same actor who played the titular character in that earlier short. Knowledge of these previous works is not necessary to get and enjoy Psycho Goreman, but it adds layers to the flick and are worth seeking out for their own merits. The Astron-6 productions are all made with an infectious enthusiasm and joy for creature features, stretching low budgets, and impressive levels of creativity. Sometimes they are lovably corny. Sometimes they are disturbing AF. They are never boring, though. Kostanski’s later works have included codirecting the divisive The Void (2016)—a more straight-ahead homage to movies like Hellraiser (1987) and John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness (1987)—and even helming a sequel to a franchise: Leprechaun Returns (2018).

The effects and makeup in Psycho Goreman are a treat to see. There are a wonderful assemblage of characters, all with terrific looks. Sure, the lips don’t necessarily move fluidly on some of these things, a quality that Kostanski is keen to put right in the middle of camera during expository moments but cuts away from during fight scenes. Some will see this as cheesy or cheap, others (like myself) see it as kind of charming.

There are more tips of the hat to other material, as well. The fictional Crazy Ball game (devised by the clever Mimi) with overly complicated rules seems to mate up with either Quidditch from Harry Potter or with Whack-Bat from Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009). A musical number performed by the characters and accompanied by a music video type sequence is a lovely shout out to all kinds of 80s flicks, though the lyrics are pretty terrific bubblegum punk rock. “Frig off,” Mimi sings, “Frig it. Frig you.” She’s mouthy, but never unnecessarily vulgar.

At its best, Psycho Goreman echoes the old tokusatsu shows (e.g., Japan’s Super Sentai franchiseor its American cousin, The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers) where people in rubber armor or monster outfits beat the hell out of one another with flashy special effects. Those were kids shows, however. While Psycho Goreman shares the same aesthetic, it’s not a family film unless the name of your family is the Charles Manson family. A little too much gore for most households.

The characters are surprising, too. The kids, in particular, are a slap in the face of the more “acceptable” characters found in Steven Spielberg type flicks where little girls are sugar and spice and everything nice and little boys are wide eyed and wonder-filled, but generally good kids. Mimi is anything but sugar or spice. She’s a mouthy thing, bossy and brazen and overconfident. When she trades jibes and verbal jabs with her brother, PG, or even a real threat like Pandora, we get the sense that she’s a tough little kid all right. Balancing cuteness and annoying qualities in equal measures. In many ways she is a perfect synthesis of her dad (Adam Brooks) and mom (Alexis Kara Hancey), though leaning a little more strongly toward the paternal side. Like him, Mimi uses attitude to mask profound insecurities. She’s not afraid of anything, just ask her, but she’s also terrified of being left behind. Actor Nita-Josee Hanna plays her well, giving us a surface level character that will turn off many people who think they know how little girls should behave, while also giving the necessary glimpses through the gaps in her armor to the very human core.

Luke is the more laidback of the siblings, the one who’s not very good at the participating in the wilder antics his sister comes up with. He’s friends with her “love interest,” a boy named Alasdair (Scout Flint) who would really rather play video games than hang out with her. He’s the one who loses Crazy Ball all the time and has to “dig his own grave” and stumbles across PG’s mystic charm MacGuffin. He’s the one who owns the big emotional revelation in the final act, which shows just how much these kids have grown over the story, often without our noticing. However, he has a shared wall-tapping language with her, a way to share personal details. Owen Myre plays the character with appropriate burgeoning beta male tags, and his performance is also clever and heartfelt.

Much of the subtlety is hidden away beneath the gallons of fake blood and surreal sight gags, of course. The layered approaches to character are far too easy to overlook in the face of a kid who is turned into a slithering brain puppet of unusually large size, a mouthy brat who insults the shit out of everyone who cares about her, or fight scenes that end with heads smashed to Karo Syrup and chunks. Those layers are nevertheless present, however. They just require a little patience, a little digging.

Psycho Goreman is a movie that is clearly interested in emotional honesty of the sort that those other kids-meet-horror/aliens movies are seldom interested in. It’s a movie that uses the less respectable, the less well behaved, and some might say more believable kids as the ones to save or doom the planet …

On a final note, I laughed so much with the movie that I ended up with a killer headache, the kind that makes the skull feel soft, ready to explode. Not a comfortable sensation, and yet I regret nothing. Psycho Goreman is a movie I would be happy to watch again. That is perhaps the highest praise someone like me can offer: It hurts, but I’d watch again.

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Psycho Goreman is a Shudder exclusive, and therefore available to subscribers to that service. It also has DVD, Blu-ray, and streaming editions. The soundtrack is also available in mp3 and vinyl.

We at Considering Stories have been championing Shudder for years, now. Next to Disney+ (we have a four-year-old running around, after all) that particular service gets the most regular usage in our house. They have an intriguing collection of domestic and world cinema of a darker bent. Mostly horror and suspense, classic and new features, and including non-fiction or funky series like Creepshow or The Last Drive In with Joe Bob Briggs, there’s a little something for every horror fan.

On Friday, we kick off our appreciation of LGBT Pride month with a look at an artistically pleasing, utterly gay, sexy murder mystery from France. Knife + Heart (2018) is set in the 1970s and demonstrates a clear understanding of the elements that made Italian giallos such an interesting form of storytelling. The film is available in DVD, Blu-ray, and streaming editions.

Writing for “Frig Off, Frig It, and Frig You: Psycho Goreman” is copyright © 2021 by Daniel R. Robichaud.

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