Billy Lynch (Jimmy McNichol) was orphaned at a young age after his parents were killed in a brutal car accident involving a logging truck. He is left in the car of his overprotective Aunt Cheryl (Susan Tyrell)and grows up alone with her in a somewhat isolated house on the edge of the woods. Now a teenager preparing to graduate high school and hoping for a basketball scholarship to the University of Denver, Billy still can’t help but feel like a bit of an outcast, picked on by the likes of school bully Eddie (a very early role from Bill Paxton). Fortunately for Billy he has his girlfriend Julie (Julia Duffy) to comfort and encourage him. Too bad for Billy that Aunt Cheryl doesn’t want Jimmy to go to college, and she doesn’t care a whit for Julie either. Things only get worse for Billy after he’s implicated in a murder while trying to defend his aunt from a rapist, bringing the wrath of hard-nosed, extremely homophobic cop Joe Carlson (Bo Svenson). Why is Billy’s life beginning to spiral out of control? And what secret from his past is his aunt hiding from him?

Butcher Baker Nightmare Maker (or as it was lamely also known in its original video release as Night Warning) is a very atypical film of the early ’80s for a number of reasons. Let’s look at the reputation first. Here we have a film that was banned in the UK and placed on the notorious list of “Video Nasties”. But at the end of the day, while the film deals with themes of incest and homosexuality, it features very little actual gore beyond the still-quite-shocking opening car accident (which predated a similar big scene in Final Destination 2 by over 20 years). Speaking of those homosexuality themes, this is a film which actually seems to tackle the misogyny and homophobia of horror movies of the time by giving the film homoerotic overtones, giving us a sympathetic gay father figure in the basketball coach and positioning one of the primary antagonists of the film as the rampantly homophobic police detective, played brilliantly by Bo Svenson. Billy is, for all intents and purposes, our “final girl” and the male gaze captures him shirtless and sweaty on more than one occasion. In some ways, this film was quite progressive for the time. Another point that places this film left of center is that it is a late career directorial effort from legendary television director William Asher, known as a seasoned director of episodes of classic comedies series like I Love Lucy and Bewitched as well as many of the Annette Funnicello/Frankie Avalon beach party movies. So the fact that THIS is the guy bringing us a slow burn psychological horror film of suppressed erotic urges and dark family secrets is surprising to say the least. Also can we just talk about Oscar-nominated actress Susan Tyrell for a moment? She is absolutely phenomenal here in one of the most deliriously campy, over-the-top performances of the ’80s, especially in the back half of the film when she really starts going off the deep end. I can’t believe it took John Waters nine years after this movie for him to cast her in something (Cry Baby, if you’re curious). Tyrell seems to be pitched perfectly to Waters’ trashy madness. The film in general channels Waters’ bizarre camp at times and is all the better for it.

Severin has delivered an outstanding 4K transfer with this one, definitely an upgrade from the decent but dated image quality of the Code Red release. The picture is very clean and crisp, looking as I imagined it did on opening night at the theater. The audio is a fine but unremarkable mono track that preserves the original intent of the audio. Plus unlike Code Red’s disc, we get subtitles here which is always appreciated. Naturally Severin has heaped on a bunch of new extras including three audio commentaries, one with star Jimmy McNichol, one with producer Eugene Mazzola and one with co-writers Steve Breimer and Alan Jay Glueckman. The co-writer commentary I think actually fares best since it is moderated by Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson who keeps the track moving and digs into various facts behind the production. Also included are extended interviews with Bo Svenson, director of photography Robbie Greenberg and editor Ted Nicolaou. They’re all good interviews with Nicolaou’s perhaps being the informative of the overall production. In addition to these, the disc also has shorter interviews with several other members of the cast and crew which provide additional context into the film and its unique properties. I think I enjoyed Susan Tyrell’s the most which is less an interview and more just her watching the film and commenting on it. She just seems like a legitimately off-kilter, fascinating person.

Butcher Baker Nightmare Maker is an excellent film that has not really received proper attention until the last few years. We are finally seeing it take its place amid the pantheon of cult classic horror films, its place comfortably secured for future generations to enjoy due in part to this excellent release from Severin preserving the film as originally intended.