If you asked me what my favorite sub-genre of horror is, it’d probably land somewhere between slasher and the less heralded “found wreckage” film. This is where a rag-tag crew of salvagers or stranded survivors stumble upon a long-abandoned wreckage that holds some dark and less idyllic skeletons. Once aboard, the proverbial shit begins hitting the fan and one by one people begin dying in harrowing fashion. Films like ALIEN, DEEP RISING, LEVIATHAN, EVENT HORIZON, and the like often take multiple genres—notably sci-fi and horror—and blend them till they’re a palatable mixture of equal parts horror and mystery, giving audiences a puzzle-box of whodunit (or whatdunit) terror that expands the further it explores the confines of its setting.
One such wreckage is DEATH SHIP, a barnacle covered piece of oceanic horror directed by Alvin Rakoff that very loosely takes cues from Val Lewton’s 1943 fog laden THE GHOST SHIP (itself loosely remade in 2002) that follows an officer newly aboard a ship that contains a hauntingly dark secret.
Veteran exploitation filmmaker Jack Hill (SPIDER BABY, FOXY BROWN, PIT STOP) penned the story with David P. Lewis—both having previously worked on Rakoff’s urban disaster film CITY ON FIRE—that features a rusted ex-Nazi freighter scouring the ocean in search of, what else, blood! Caught in its crossfire are the survivors of a sinking cruise ship (a casualty of the freighters lust for blood) who take shelter within the twisted and decayed bowels of the titular ship, only to slowly fall prey to its maddened mind.
Leading the pack of survivors is George Kennedy as crotchety Captain Ashland and Richard Crenna (speaking of LEVIATHAN) as his replacement Trevor Marshall, two seasoned actors who share as much on-screen friction as a pair of parachute pants. Seriously, there’s an ocean of material to be mined from these two characters, yet DEATH SHIP‘s script—written by John Robins, whose claim to fame is directing a handful of The Benny Hill Show—gives neither the time nor the consideration into creating characters who feel like men of the sea.
Even when Ashland loses his mind after donning an old Kriegamarine jacket (the Nazi’s raven black naval uniform) while hearing a German radio transmission, it’s hard to believe him when he informs Trevor that they’re sailing “into eternity;” a line that carries as much worth as a broken sand dollar.
Fleshing out the remnants of the downed cruise liner is Marshall’s wife Margaret (Sally Ann Howes), their two kids Robin and Ben (Jennifer Mckinney and Danny Higham), a young officer (Nick Mancuso, whose piggish squeals terrified a sorority house in BLACK CHRISTMAS), his love interest Lori (Victoria Burgyone) and poor old Mrs. Morgan (Kate Reid), whose face ends up crusting into a tatter tot like the dozens of zombies in the bonkers Umberto Lenzi flick, NIGHTMARE CITY. Which is an unfair comparison, given the level of extreme presented in Lenzi’s eurotrash nightmare; one that barrels forward at breakneck speeds compared to the serviceable doggy paddling that DEATH SHIP musters up.
For the better half of its runtime, we’re treated to shot after shot of the ship’s rotted out exterior as it plunges through ocean or the ships engine as it chugs to life with splashes of red and yellows. Colors that pop amidst the corroded steel that makes up the labyrinthine corridors of DEATH SHIP‘s prowling freighter, where we frequently twist and turn with the camera as it mines the depths of this salt bucket.
Yet unlike the best found wreckage films, we hardly get a feel for DEATH SHIP‘s surroundings. Not because Alvin Rakoff seems disinterested in exploring the horrors of an old ship—rooms are discovered with decayed bodies and a cabin clad in Nazi regalia is stumbled upon—but because their potential constantly treads water. Ashland informs Trevor that the spirits of the crew now possess the ship, scouring the sea for sailors or passengers who can sustain their hunger for blood, which on the surface is ripe for so much plundering.
Except what we’re treated to is far from the blood-soaked fever dream pitch that must have conjured in the mind of Jack Hill—instead limply offering up a zonked out George Kennedy as he terrorizes a ship the way a cup of Jell-O terrorizes the elderly’s lunch tray at a Hollywood retirement home.
This isn’t to say that the blood doesn’t flow liberally through the rotted pipes of Rakoff’s only claim to fame in the horror genre. One unlucky survivor is dropped into the flooded cavity of the ship where dozens of decomposed bodies remain, while another is trapped in a shower that begins raining blood – a scene that cribs specific shots from PSYCHO‘s infamous shower scene. It’s just that these moments in DEATH SHIP sadly arrive too little too late, nearly stumbling on the heels of what essentially amounts to waterlogged ambition.
Tags: 1980, Alvin Rakoff, Danny Higham, David P. Lewis, Death Ship, George Kennedy, Ghosts, Horror, Jack Hill, Jennifer McKinney, John Robins, Kate Reid, nazis, Nick Mancuso, Richard Crenna, Sally Ann Howes, Saul Rubinek, Victoria Burgoyne
No Comments