Zena’s Period Blood: This Adult Loves TURBO KID
It can be difficult finding horror films of quality, so allow me to welcome you to your salvation from frustration. “Zena’s Period Blood” is here to guide you to the horror films that will make you say, “This is a good horror. Point blank. PERIOD.”
“Zena’s Period Blood” focuses on under-appreciated and hidden horror films.
For a while now, I’ve sang praises for the directing trio RKSS. I raved about their 2018 film Summer of 84 when I first saw it at Fantasia Fest. But the film was not what I expected to come next from RKSS. Like most people, I still yearned for more from their 2015 post-apocalyptic film, which unveiled a world that many of us grew to love. A world where the primary mode of transportation were our childhood bikes that we tricked out with rainbow handlebar streamers or colorful spoke beads, a world that had Apple, one of the happiest characters in cinema history. This movie is Turbo Kid. It’s a gemstone that whenever I’m offered the opportunity to extol, I take it.
It is 1997, though not the 1997 most of us remember. The world is a dystopian wasteland, where scavenging is as common as breathing. Among the few alive is The Kid (Munro Chambers), a solitary teenager who scavenges the Wasteland on his BMX bike. Life is simple for The Kid: trade treasures for food, water and comic books featuring his hero Turbo Rider and, above all, keep a low profile. But his attempt to stay low wanes once the mysterious and lively girl Apple (Laurence Leboeuf) lunges into his life. Further disrupting The Kid’s meek existence is ZEUS (Michael Ironside), the merciless and self-proclaimed Wasteland leader. Now, reluctant and fearful, The Kid must enter the role of hero to rid the Wasteland of Zeus and the other evils that threaten his and Apple’s existence.
Clearly, RKSS draws most of their inspiration from old ninja films, retro video games, throwback music, board games, action movies, and pretty much anything else from the 80s or early 90s. While most directors fall into the hole of offering so much nostalgia that they forget a comprehensive story, RKSS never suffers
Artistry played a major role in creating this convincing world. Cinematographer Jean-Philippe Bernier painted each frame with his mastery of color and composition. Furthermore, he offered his musical talent for the soundtrack, creating alongside his Le Matos bandmate Jean-Nicolas Leupi. Under this composition of art and music lay the amazing production design from Sylvain Lemaitre, whose work includes Netflix’s Small Crimes (2017). Within this level of production, costumes must resonant. And here, they did. Costume designer Eric Poirier effortlessly wed Mega Man themes with a Mad Max ambiance. Poirier also served on 2006’s The Covenant. So, with two of my favorite movies on his resume, I am looking forward to seeing more of his designs.
Unfortunately, I don’t comment on film editing as often as I should, but editor Luke Haigh succeeded in marrying some slow burn elements from the 80s with the fast-paced approach of modern times. His jump cuts on Apple practicing with her gnome stick awakened childhood flashbacks of my make-believe fights, while his cut-on-action sequences delivered new blood-drenching sights that will never leave my mind.
With Turbo Kid, RKSS excelled in immersing their unique voice into a time many of us cherished. I’ve watched as much content from these three as I could get my hands on, and they have never given me a dull moment. Therefore, I will be a supporter for a long time. And my support begins by telling you about this movie. In it, a universe is established that you will appreciate long after the credits roll. It is one of the best post-apocalyptic films you will ever see. Point blank. Period.
In addition to contributing to Dread Central, Zena Dixon has been writing about all things creepy and horrific for over six years at RealQueenofHorror.com. She has always loved horror films and will soon be known for directing her own feature-length horror. Feel free to follow her on Twitter @LovelyZena.