In the 80’s, thanks to the invention of home video, movie enthusiasts could now pore over their favorite VHS tapes and laserdiscs, pausing and rewinding scenes to discover deeper meanings within even the most dubious of entertainments. The advancement of the internet brought about streaming, thereby allowing movie buffs to cast an even wider net to snag rare and strange titles that weren’t available at Blockbuster or their local mom & pop video stores (mine was VisArt Video, by the way. RIP). Rather than waiting years for your local cinema to hold a special screening of a particular film, you can re-watch any movie you want to your heart’s content. With this ability, it’s unsurprising that films which were once thought to be garbage could be regarded as significantly deeper, even profound pieces of art. Edward D. Wood Jr.’s Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) famously “won” the award for “Worst Film Ever Made” in the controversial Medved Brothers’ Golden Turkey Awards book, but nowadays, Plan 9 is not only beloved, but deemed an impassioned, albeit ineptly made, anti-war picture. I wouldn’t dare go so far as to say Tim Kincaid’s alien rapist exploitation film Breeders (1986) is a sensitive and fiery indictment of sexual assault. However, even with all of its problems, and hoo boy, are there a lot of them, Breeders is surprisingly concerned with the plight of vulnerable young women in constant danger navigating the mean streets of mid-80's New York. And you can watch it all in your living room! As the VHS cover clearly states: “A World Premiere in Your Own Home!”
Filmmaking is a highly collaborative medium, but often the director gets the lion’s share of the credit for a film’s artistic merits. D.W. Griffith, racist worldview aside, is arguably responsible for innovations such as the closeup and the flashback. Sergei Eisenstein revolutionized editing by literally organizing a revolution sequence using montage technique. Several filmmakers like Welles, Kurosawa, Kubrick and Hitchcock saw the potential in visual filmmaking. There are so many other directors to commend, but I doubt many of them can take credit for innovating the gay porn industry.
Tim Kincaid, nearly always credited as legendary porn director Joe Gage, detested the way gay porn depicted its “stars” as effeminate men living in the city, as if that was the only place homosexual men could live. Thanks to his “Kansas City Trilogy,” featuring sexuality involving men from all walks of life, particularly blue-collar types, he’d broaden the horizons of the gay porn industry. If you take a gander at his IMDB, it’s pretty standard for a porno filmmaker. A ton of credits, nearly all video-based, with titles like Gunnery Sgt. McCool (2006), Orange Hanky Left (1985, which I think I get the reference since I’ve seen Cruising), and Red Ball Express (1981). But, between the brief period of 1986 to 1989, writer/director Tim Kincaid took an ambitious stab at legitimacy. Seven features, made in quick succession over that three-year period, have “real” stories and even feature some “real” actors, with Robot Holocaust (1987) likely being the most famous due to it being annihilated on MST3K. Breeders, however, deserves more than a passing mention.
The MGM logo pops up, tricking you into thinking this is indeed a legitimate movie. The ruse continues as genuinely creepy and cool music accompany blood-red credits and a gorgeous shot of New York at dusk. Unfortunately, the movie bliss is shattered as soon as a character opens her bubbleheaded mouth. “Whoevah told ya a cheap dinnah in a second-rate Itah-lian restaurant was a ticket to a girl’s bedroom...” Donna (Natalie Savage, Kincaid’s Bad Girl Dormitory, 1986) is super pissed after being propositioned by some creepo at, I assume, the Olive Garden. We get our first indication of the extremely poor acting abilities of the Breeders cast. If Donna is a litmus test for the rest of the cast’s acting prowess, it would definitely turn red. Maybe even purple.
A kindly older gentleman walking his cute little dog (awww! It’s got a little bowtie!) is gracious enough to walk Donna home, but he suddenly falls ill. His skin practically rumples before her eyes. A bloody hand grabs hers and then the thick patch of skin flops off, revealing a black insect-like limb. The suddenly spry old-timer snatches Donna and they disappear into the darkness. She’s later discovered by a man who unenthusiastically waves a flashlight around. You gotta own it, man! She’s been horribly raped and burned by some kind of acid.
Something is seriously off here as Detective Andriotti (Lance Lewman, Kincaid’s Riot on 42 St., 1987) questions Dr. Gamble (Gamble?) Pace (the spectacularly bad Teresa Farley, also Bad Girl Dormitory). Kincaid is practically Robert Altman with this stable of returning actors! As Andriotti speaks, Pace stares straight ahead. This wouldn’t be too weird, but when it’s her turn to speak, she never turns to him. She literally delivers her dialogue straight-ahead in a monotone, as if he’s not there. Meanwhile, Lewman plays the detective as if he’s hopped up on goofballs. All manic energy.
Donna attempts to recall the events of the previous evening, but she can only muster something about a German man before regressing into hysterics. Farley fumbles her line as she claims this is the same behavior as the other rape victims. “Partial recall and then a selective amnesia...” The detective and doctor, accompanied by her gigantic head of hair, head into the hallway, where she informs Andriotti that crimes like these make her “want to kill every man ever born.” She, and a few other young women act as mouthpieces for Kincaid’s half-hearted examination of what it means to be a woman in a world full of vile rapists and sexist men. The subject of sexual assault is discussed and even somewhat maturely treated, although it’s very possible Kincaid is merely covering his tracks by trying to have it both ways. Without characters to condemn the rapes, the film would be an endless series of sexual violations.
Whether or not they shot in a real hospital’s computer center is unclear, but I assume they weren’t allowed to turn the machines off. Too bad since most of the dialogue is difficult to hear due to the loud whirring of fans and mechanical devices. All we can really make out is that the women who’ve been attacked have been virgins and although there’s no semen, a thick, black substance was found inside them. Yeecchhh...
Gymnast turned model Karinsa (Frances Raines, best remembered for the notorious gaffe death in The Mutilator, 1984) is part of an exciting photo session where we see just how terrible 80’s fashion truly was. Instead of heading off to a delicious Thai lunch, she figures all she needs is a quick workout and a couple lines of coke. We get our first taste of the leering camerawork which earned the film its well-earned exploitative reputation. Her workout is done completely in the nude, of course, and consists of her bending over and stretching. She lays out and strokes her bare skin, lending an air of eroticism to her naked calisthenics. The photographer’s assistant, Ted (Matt Mitler, incredibly her co-star from The Mutilator!) left his wallet and they share a sweetly awkward moment before he collapses in a similar fashion to the German gentleman. His chest begins pulsating and blood gushes out. It’s patchy, but the effects here aren’t too bad, except that the skin tone on the obviously fake chest is a bit too orange-y to match Mitler’s skin. Karinsa backs away and hides behind the bright red photography backdrop. We only see the creature’s silhouette as it creeps behind the screen. In a weird bit of editing, she re-emerges from behind the screen, then tries to go back again before getting knocked down by a thing with a bloated black head. Not a bloated blackhead, which sounds disgusting, but a bloated black head.
Nurse Kathleen (LeeAnne Baker, a Kincaid favorite, but also the star of Necropolis – 1986, and a small role in the above average Psychos in Love – 1987) expresses her concerns to Dr. Pace, whose flat line readings do little to reassure her. For some reason, Pace’s hair is pulled back here, presumably for a procedure, but later that day, it’s gigantic again. They check on Karinsa, who suddenly lurches up to scream “IT WAS TED!!!”
A random bag lady suffering from mental issues wanders into the sewer. Watch out for the C.H.U.D.s! She talks to a stuffed doll and sets up a Christmas tree. I’m not saying the monster in question is Jewish, but it attacks her soon after.
For a director who worked with homosexual men a great deal, Kincaid’s instincts about the gay lifestyle veer awfully far into the world of stereotype. Andriotti is now investigating Ted, by himself incidentally, since there are apparently no other cops in New York and he has to work alone. From the photographer. he finds out Ted ‘lives with his mother," who emphasizes this fact like Morty did when indicating that Mr. Lunas “lives on the moon.” Andriotti is pretty thick, so she just tells him Ted is gay. “Maybe, or maybe just real clever,” he responds.
Kathleen arrives home and immediately gets undressed. The obligatory shower scene arrives and the emphasis on asses and breasts is particularly blatant here. There’s a certain artform to the gratuitous nudity which permeates the horror genre. It’s expected that the camera shouldn’t linger for too long on the female form. It should essentially make a pass, then continue moving. In Breeders, it just stops dead, making it clear the filmmaker’s intention. After the shower, she’s startled to find her smarmy date, Brett (Mark Legan, a Kincaid veteran), waiting for her, having let himself in. Legan gives a particularly wooden performance, accentuated by the fact that Baker had acting training at NYU, so she’s pretty much Toni Collette compared to him. We discover she doesn’t believe in sex before marriage right before he’s quickly killed and she’s attacked by our buggy bastard of a rape monster. To the film’s credit, most scenes merely end with the victim screaming. Yes, there’s copious nudity, but not a ton of violent creature rape.
Gail, the photographer, is next on the chopping block, as Ted Allen would say. She delivers an insane soliloquy in her studio as she looks over Karinsa’s pictures. Let’s make the distinction clear. A monologue is a long speech delivered to one or more persons. A soliloquy is more like an internal monologue spoken out loud that often appears in Shakespearean plays and not delivered to anyone in particular. Nobody is in the studio with Gail, yet she asks out loud, “What brings them here?” Yeesh. Her spitfire assistant Alec (Adriane Lee, Mutant Hunt) calls up just to let the audience know that she too, is a virgin. The power goes out and guess where Gail has to go? Cue the monster. Cue the scream. Move on.
A male nurse, whose name is inexplicably spelled Jeoffrey (Derek DuPont), has been smitten with Donna since the beginning and delivers a stilted monologue about carnations and hamburgers. She sits up and slashes him with a scalpel, which she somehow acquired. It’s never explained how she got it. It was just in her hand. She hops out of bed, stark naked (what else?) and wanders off, somehow making it out of the hospital without anyone seeing her. Is this the same hospital from Halloween III (1982)? Are the hallways really this deserted? And by the way, I get a strong Lifeforce (1985) vibe here too. At the same time, Gail wakes up, dark blood running down her legs. She too, as if in a trance, wanders off. The only rape victim left is Karinsa, who sticks around for no other reason other than padding the brisk 77-minute runtime.
In an intriguing scene that’s never properly paid off, Andriotti interviews Ted’s mother (Mae Cerar). She claims he’s part of a historical society that explores the underground to collect and sell artifacts. Although the actress doesn’t give a particularly memorable performance, it’s still a bit sad when she worries for her son and says he’s all she has. It’s never directly addressed, but my assumption is that Ted was taken over by one of the creatures while searching the underground tunnels. This would explain why the older man in the beginning was also taken over by a creature. What feels like a major lost opportunity here is that unless you’re willing to make that mental leap, we never get a confirmation of how or why Ted and the old man got infected.
At least the film digs deeper into the underground tunnel plotline. A genuine, bonafide Oscar nominee can claim he had a role both on and off-camera in Breeders. The lanky Ed French, who plays pathologist(?) Dr. Ira Markum and did the makeup work on a few of Kincaid’s other films, including this one, also appeared in the dark Thanksgiving horror Blood Rage (1987). He’s had major success primarily as a makeup artist, working on projects like my favorite Star Trek film (Part VI, Oscar nod), Sleepaway Camp (1983), Vampire’s Kiss (1988), American Sniper (2014), two Terminator films, and most importantly, Tim and Eric’s Chrimbus Special (2010). He’s a pretty decent actor too, figuring out that the red brick dust found in the rape victim’s blood samples could only come from specific areas in the underground. It also appears their genetic makeup has changed. Weirder still is that the scarring from the acid has completely vanished. Farley can hardly keep up, likely dazzled by someone with genuine talent in the room. It’s one of the few scenes that’s decently written and performed, despite Teresa Farley’s best/worst efforts.
At least she gets to hook back up with a much less talented performer when Lewman shows back up. The big problem with much of Kincaid’s script is that he seems to want the characters to sound smart, which backfires and they either sound like simpletons or robots. I wish they would just speak like real people. Once again in the super loud information center, they consult a seemingly magical computer since it's able to do just about anything, and find out all of the medical records for the women have disappeared. How? Why? The detective tells her his sister was raped, then asks her out on a date. Real smooth, asshole.
Alec strips down to her underwear while speaking to her mother on the phone since I guess more than five minutes has gone by without seeing breasts, and a genuine article rapist breaks into her apartment. In a shockingly awful mistake, Kincaid cuts from a wide to a closeup while the intruder (Pat Rizzolino, Robot Apocalypse) is threatening Alec, and in the closeup on his face, we still see his lips, which aren’t moving even though we still hear him talking. Who comes to save/wreck the day? Monster McRapey, who slashes him across the face, but then attacks Alec. Not even sure who to root for here.
Karinsa makes sure to remove her top before sleepwalking out of bed. Wouldn’t she be wearing a hospital gown? What’s even more bizarre is that Dr. Markum is sitting right next to her, fairly non-plussed, and follows her down to the hospital basement. That must’ve sucked being naked down there as it’s definitely not a set. This movie? Afford a set? Please.
The finale is in sight as the magic computer, which now has color and sound effects, tells Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, aka Pace and Andriotti, that one of the places to find the red brick dust is directly under the hospital. No time for that, because the detective gets a call to the Empire State Building, where the cops have the creature cornered. Soooooo fucking stupid, because “they” is one guy who gets killed pretty quick. The doc and dick arrive and follow the creature, whom we can finally see is some kind of monstrosity which resembles the fly from the original Vincent Price version.
I guess they must’ve taken a fuckton of barbituates because they barely react to the otherworldly sight which greets them. All of the rape victims are writhing around, covered in a sticky white goo inside a scaly nest. It’s like a mud wrestling contest gone very, very wrong. The remains of the bag lady lie nearby. They even seem pretty casual when Dr. Markum just saunters over to explain what the hell is going on. This monster turns out to be an alien who drifted down as a spore. Its only purpose is to breed. The bag lady was an experiment, which didn’t work out so well, necessitating the need to only target women who were “clean,” i.e. virgins. The bag lady did give birth, but instead of an alien that breeds, it only wants to kill. A freaky little baby who resembles a shitty version of a Rob Bottin Thing creation, tries to attack. Andriotti empties his gun into it, which has no effect. Pace takes a large stick and stabs and smashes its head. So, it can withstand bullets, but not brute force? What the hell?
Markum continues, looking like fucking General Zod, and explains that the women will give birth to more aliens and within 48 hours, they’ll be unstoppable. “You’re fuckin’ bananas,” says Andriotti. Nice retort, dipshit. Suddenly, Markum starts to shake and seems to regain control. He begs them to destroy the nest and the women in it. These effects are quite good. His face literally looks like it’s cracking open. A nice head explosion and we see a fly head underneath, which would look all right if not for the dead eyes. Andriotti looks around and finds the most convenient canister of gasoline in all of cinema. Like, what is it doing there? How is it full? They burn the alien, killing it. A nearby service phone somehow works and they beg the station guys to turn on the electricity because they find another convenient prop, an electrical cable. Fuck me, this tunnel is an embarrassment of riches for fighting aliens. We hear a cartoonish buzzing noise. I guess it’s live. They toss the cable into the nest and the ladies are toast, with some cheap electric bolt effects.
I’m guessing that’s it, but the movie has a surprisingly dark twist to throw in just for fun. Pace and Andriotti are in bed together, he changes into an alien, and she wakes up screaming. Pace is basically fucked-up for life as the camera slowly zooms out while she sobs, leaving her in a spotlight surrounded by darkness. Whoa. Is this movie secretly moral? Is it abdicating celibacy? Or is it saying get it on as soon as you can or else some bug monster will molest you? I have no idea.
What’s truly fascinating is that this film pre-dates Species (1995) by nearly ten years. The basic concept, though with a higher budget and many changes, is still the same. Considering that film’s brief success, Tim Kincaid may have been on to something. Is Breeders a good movie? Hells to the no, but it’s far more intelligent than its repulsive concept demands.
The prolific schlockmeister Charles Band went uncredited as an executive producer on Breeders and the original one sheet clearly goes for a humorous tone, although one version makes the mistake of stating the aliens will “rape you to death.” Rape isn’t funny (99% of the time), so the images and other text is pretty incongruous with the tone they’re trying to set. The DVD covers are hilariously inaccurate, with one featuring a glowing green eye and one a shocking, lawsuit-worthy knockoff of Aliens. There’s a new-poster featuring a woman’s face and a sideways, snaggle-toothed mouth that’s pretty good, though.
Tim Kincaid is regarded in some circles as a genuine artist and innovator for his pornographic films. He was even inducted into the GayVN Awards Hall of Fame in 2001. Those films were definitely his bread and butter, but for one bright, shining moment, he took a shot at mainstream filmmaking.
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