My Bloody Valentine (1981)

Very few slasher films have improved with age, but My Bloody Valentine is one of the rare exceptions. In fact, it arguably looks better today than it did when it first appeared in 1981 as what many dismissed as just another conveyor-belt Friday the 13th or Halloween imitation.

At the time, producers were falling over one another trying to secure the rights to any significant date on the calendar. With Halloween and Friday the 13th proving enormously profitable, there followed a mad scramble to exploit every conceivable holiday and occasion. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Graduation Day, Happy Birthday to Me and countless others raced into production as studios sought a quick slice of the slasher pie.

The formula was perfect for the era. Low budgets, quick shooting schedules, enthusiastic young audiences and, most importantly, profits.

Paramount had struck gold with Friday the 13th, while Halloween had already cemented its reputation as the most successful independent film ever made. Unsurprisingly, the producers of My Bloody Valentine informed director George Mihalka and his crew that one thing mattered above all else: they had to make their release date.

That release date, naturally, was Valentine’s Day.

The film arrived in theatres on schedule and I happened to be standing in line during opening weekend in Boston, thoroughly excited about this latest slasher offering. Fangoria had already featured several deliciously gruesome photographs from the film, and expectations were running high.

Unfortunately, as happened with Friday the 13th Part 2, the censors got involved.

My Bloody Valentine suffered particularly badly. The MPAA reportedly demanded extensive cuts to virtually every major death scene. Horror films can survive the loss of a few seconds here and there, but removing vast chunks of the very sequences audiences are paying to see is a different matter entirely.

As a result, I must confess to feeling somewhat underwhelmed upon first viewing. The film seemed uneven and oddly restrained, particularly considering the outrageous publicity surrounding its gore.

More than thirty years later, however, watching Lionsgate’s magnificent Blu-ray restoration is a completely different experience.

The film has never looked better.

Viewed today, My Bloody Valentine possesses all the expected ingredients of a traditional slasher movie, but there are several important differences. Firstly, the victims are largely adults rather than teenagers, giving proceedings a slightly more mature flavour. Secondly, the mining town setting is genuinely distinctive. The dark tunnels, claustrophobic shafts and endless underground passages provide a perfect hunting ground for a masked killer.

Even now I still feel the film is slightly uneven, with the first half considerably stronger than the second, but the atmosphere generated during those early scenes is exceptional.

The image of the miner in his gas mask carrying a rusted pickaxe through darkened streets remains one of the most striking visual creations of the entire slasher boom.

The death scenes, so brutally abbreviated by the censors back in 1981, have now largely been restored to their original glory. Seeing them finally reinstated is a joy for horror fans. The effects work remains wonderfully nasty and surprisingly effective even today.

The film also borrows a page from the Grimsdyke segment of Tales from the Crypt, creating a wonderfully oppressive atmosphere of doom and dread. The killer’s silhouette cuts a genuinely frightening figure, while the amplified breathing through the gas mask is every bit as unsettling as Michael Myers’ silent stalking.

For a slasher movie, My Bloody Valentine is surprisingly handsome to look at. The cinematography, lighting and camera work frequently rise well above what one expects from a quick cash-in production. Compared to many of the disposable slashers flooding cinemas during the early 1980s, there is a noticeable degree of craftsmanship on display here.

The acting is also better than one typically expects from the genre.

The plot, of course, follows the classic slasher blueprint. A tragic incident from the past creates a damaged outsider who eventually returns to exact vengeance years later. In this case, a horrific mining disaster occurs on Valentine’s Day when supervisors abandon their duties to attend the town’s annual dance. Several miners perish underground, while the lone survivor, Harry Warden, emerges psychologically shattered.

Confined to a mental institution after the tragedy, Harry eventually returns on the anniversary of the dance to exact his grisly revenge.

Nineteen years later, memories have faded and the townspeople decide to revive the Valentine’s Day celebrations for the first time since Warden’s murderous rampage.

The obvious question remains:

Will Harry Warden make another unwelcome appearance?

Like all good slashers, the film even includes its own version of Friday the 13th’s Crazy Ralph — the local prophet of doom warning everyone not to ignore the legend of Harry Warden.

Where My Bloody Valentine truly succeeds is in its atmosphere. The prowling sequences are genuinely unsettling, the moody lighting is superb, and the photography consistently elevates the material beyond its modest origins.

Today the film is considerably more enjoyable than it was upon its original release, largely because audiences can finally see the restored death scenes as they were intended to be seen.

At heart, My Bloody Valentine remains a fairly standard early-80s slasher. Yet there is enough style, atmosphere and technical competence on display to lift it comfortably above most of the countless Halloween and Friday the 13th pretenders that crowded video store shelves during the decade.

A surprisingly strong slasher film, and one that has endured far better than most of its contemporaries.