Do you know, I’d almost forgotten that Waxwork even had a sequel? After checking back through this site’s records, it seems that I’d certainly forgotten to review the bloody thing – which is extra strange because I absolutely bloody love Waxwork.
For those of you playing catch up, Waxwork was a horror comedy made back in 1988 as the directorial debut of Anthony Hickox, which erred on the goofier side of horror as it told its tongue in cheek tale about college kids getting possessed by the exhibits of a supernatural waxworks. Taking the form of sort of a loose anthology film, every time a member of the hapless teens entered one of the horror themed exhibits they were transported into that world to meet a gruesome end by the creature that inhabits it. What that meant in more simplified terms was that in a single film, Hickox managed to hurl vampires, werewolves, zombies, mummies and even the Marquis de Sade at us with campy abandon. In 1992, Hickox gave us a sequel that promptly fell through a time hole of its own and was swiftly forgotten – but did the sequel to one of the awesomest/silliest films of the 80s truly deserve such shoddy treatment? It contains an extended sequence where Bruce Campbell is brutalised repeatedly for no reason – what do you think?
After the events of Waxwork, we find the titular attraction burning down with all of the monstrous inhabitants roasting alive within it. The only survivors, Mark Loftmore and Sarah Brightman, escape thinking that they’ve narrowly saved the world from disaster, but following them out of the rubble is a severed zombie hand that’s out to cause some digity mischief. Following Sarah home and murdering her abusive stepfather, the hand is eventually destroyed thanks to a trip down the waste disposal, but that doesn’t stop the timid girl from being accused of his murder and facing life imprisonment, or worse.
Figuring out that the only way they’re going prove Sarah’s innocence, Mark suggests using a supernatural compass named Solomon’s Locket, that’ll enable them to travel to other dimensions and possibly find some proof to exonerate her. However, once they travel through one of these portals, they have to try and keep hold of their own personality lest they get swallowed up within such cinematic pocket adventures as Frankenstein, The Haunting, Alien and many others. But while hulking experiments, malevolent ghosts and rampaging extraterrestrials do their best to stop Mark and Sarah on their quest, it’s a trip to another dimension named Kartagra that causes the most trouble thanks to the sadistic rule of the being known as Scarabis. If Mark and Sarah are to save the world while stuck in the middle of “God’s Nintendo game”, can they save this magical kingdom, obtain Sarah’s evidence and fend off further incidents involving the likes of Nosferatu, Jack The Ripper and Godzilla?
While Waxwork was a perfectly ridiculous example of 80s horror/comedy cheese, it’s practically inevitable that the sequel couldn’t quite match that original energy. In trying to come up with a way to get both a returning Zach Galligan and newcomer Monika Schnarre (filling in for an absent Deborah Foreman) back into more inventive horror parody scenarios, the sequel comes at us with an overabundance of plot that eventually log jams somewhere around the halfway point like an overcrowed flume. However, before we get to the ponderous Kartagra segment, Hickox manages to deliver yet more impish mini-remakes that pay goofy respect to past classics and deliver a surprising amount of cameos for such a forgotten film. Is the copious gore levels from the original not as cool as the original? Nope, not really, but when it’s playing to its strengths, Waxwork II proves to pretty damn fun.
Right off the bat, Hickox shows that he’s in a decidedly Sam Raimi-ish kind of mood thanks to an opening, severed hand attack right out of Evil Dead II, that sees George Buck Flower battered to death with a hammer and Schnarre squirted with mustard and pelted with hotdog buns. But after a cheeky set up that squeezes in a cameo from Patrick Macnee’s Sir Wilfred (last seen having his head pulled off by a werewolf) and delivers a whole new slew of lore to justify a sequel, we’re off to the races, and whenever Hickox gets to lovingly take the piss out of undisputed classics the flick rarely misses. First up is Frankenstein, and it’s something of a miracle that Hickox hadn’t already tackled this horror titan the first time round (I mean, there was a random cameo in the big battle at the end, but…) and it’s truly a strange sight to see none other than Spandau Ballet’s Martin Kemp as the Baron himself as his lantern-jawed monster squishes his skull until his teeth, eyes and brain pop out.
From here Hickox stages a truly fabulous reimagining of Robert Wise’s The Haunting that sees a pipe chomping Bruce Campbell and a turtle neck clad Marina Sirtis fall foul of a tortured spirit. Needless to say, it ends up being the best segment of the bunch primarily due to Campbell absorbing about as much punishment than he’s ever received in a non-Evil Dead environment, but the following Alien segment is also suitably squishy. However, once we head into an Edgar Allan Poe fantasy-land seemingly inspired by The Raven, the fun almost immediately screeches to a halt as Hickox forgets the parody aspect and goes full sword and sorcery. Alexander Godunov proves to a disappointingly listless baddie, considering he once brawled to the death with Bruce Willis in Die Hard, and the entire segment just drags, and not even the latest of a long string of shitty wigs that Galligan has been forced to wear can break the fact that the movie has practically died on its arse.
However, saving the day is a suitably idiotic conclusion that sees Galligan and Godunov to clumsily sword fight their way through various scenarios that allows British effects guy Bob (Hellraiser) Keen to go all in with yet more rubbery interpretations of classic movie monsters. In fact, any one of the worlds spotted during this raucous finale would have been far more exciting and fun than the Kartagra bits – why couldn’t we have just stayed in the awesome looking Dawn Of The Dead segment a while longer, or the shoddy godzilla-inspired universe that renders the dialogue of a bowl-cutted Galligan crudely dubbed into English? Why couldn’t we have more instances of the universes cross pollinating like when Jack The Ripper ends up face to face with Nosferatu? It’s just weird when a franchise that’s enjoyable because of its zany energy, suddenly pumps the breaks to deliver a bunch of lore it never really needed.
While it’s unrepentant, goofy and balls to the wall silliness may deter some like the plague, if you manage to get on Hickox’s devil may care wavelength, you’re sure to have a fair amount of wacky fun. However, while plainly inferior to its predecessor and despite featuring no actual Waxworks whatsoever, Waxwork II mostly proves to be a fitting effigy of the original.
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