The mid-eighties were an interesting time for independent horror movies. Little productions were getting decent budgets and distribution. A lot of drive-ins and grindhouses were still around, as well as small, privately run indoor theaters. Then there was the exploding home video market. Enjoyably cheesy little movies like House, Vamp, and C.H.U.D. could get a lot of mileage from distributors.
C.H.U.D. is memorable if, for nothing else, its catchy acronym title. It stands for Cannibalistic Human Underground Dwellers. The movie itself isn't half bad either.
C.H.U.D. producers wisely used some of their budget to get name actors in the film. John Heard plays a cynical photographer and Daniel Stern is a scruffy hippie who runs a soup kitchen for the homeless. A pre-superstar John Goodman has a small role.
It's all well and good when the homeless are disappearing, but when real people (and their dogs!) are being snatched and dragged into the sewers, something has to be done. Too bad the government officials are responsible for the existence of the subterranean mutants.
C.H.U.D. can be seen as a political polemic about corruption against the poor and despoliation of the environment. Yeah, sure, but you and me are there to see a monster movie. The C.H.U.D. are pretty cool, even if their screen time is a little sparse. Effects artist John Caglione Jr. created them, as well as some cool grisly gore effects.
Production values are reasonably high, the actors mostly hit their marks, and the ridiculous story is played straight enough to generate mild suspense. C.H.U.D. is a fun time capsule of New York City that is long gone.
C.H.U.D. is admittedly a minor movie in the history of the genre, but it's had an odd shelf life. The movie has been brought up by comedians and used as a joke in movies and shows. I saw the avant-garde art band King Missile in the mid-nineties, and they did a song about C.H.U.D. that isn't on any of their releases.
Even better, on April 1st, 2011, the Criterion Collection announced a release for C.H.U.D. They claimed it instantly sold out.
None of the humor seemed mean spirited. While few would call C.H.U.D. a good movie, there seemed to be universal affection toward it. And why not? What's not to like about an enjoyably bad monster flick that has a social conscience?
1989 saw the release of a truly rotten sequel called Bud the C.H.U.D. Even the always-welcome Gerrit Graham couldn't salvage such a toxic screenplay. C.H.U.D. has moments of humor that almost work. Bud the C.H.U.D. is merely idiotic. I wince when I remember how I rented it and Puppetmaster on the same day. Clearly the genre was in the doldrums as the nineties approached.
I watched C.H.U.D. about a million years ago on home video. Today I watched it for the second time. There's an Arrow blu-ray, but I watched the VHS quality DVD in the Midnight Madness series from Image Entertainment. I was fine with the weak transfer. I mean, it's C.H.U.D. The movie doesn't exactly need a Criterion restoration.
Despite the C.H.U.D.'s glaring shortcomings, I had a warm, wonderful time. Watching it took me back to the innocent days when I first bought a VCR. A time when a modest little movie like C.H.U.D. seemed as good as anything by Scorcese, Coppola, or Larry Cohen.
Written by Mark Sieber
C.H.U.D. is memorable if, for nothing else, its catchy acronym title. It stands for Cannibalistic Human Underground Dwellers. The movie itself isn't half bad either.
C.H.U.D. producers wisely used some of their budget to get name actors in the film. John Heard plays a cynical photographer and Daniel Stern is a scruffy hippie who runs a soup kitchen for the homeless. A pre-superstar John Goodman has a small role.It's all well and good when the homeless are disappearing, but when real people (and their dogs!) are being snatched and dragged into the sewers, something has to be done. Too bad the government officials are responsible for the existence of the subterranean mutants.
C.H.U.D. can be seen as a political polemic about corruption against the poor and despoliation of the environment. Yeah, sure, but you and me are there to see a monster movie. The C.H.U.D. are pretty cool, even if their screen time is a little sparse. Effects artist John Caglione Jr. created them, as well as some cool grisly gore effects.
Production values are reasonably high, the actors mostly hit their marks, and the ridiculous story is played straight enough to generate mild suspense. C.H.U.D. is a fun time capsule of New York City that is long gone.
C.H.U.D. is admittedly a minor movie in the history of the genre, but it's had an odd shelf life. The movie has been brought up by comedians and used as a joke in movies and shows. I saw the avant-garde art band King Missile in the mid-nineties, and they did a song about C.H.U.D. that isn't on any of their releases.
Even better, on April 1st, 2011, the Criterion Collection announced a release for C.H.U.D. They claimed it instantly sold out.
None of the humor seemed mean spirited. While few would call C.H.U.D. a good movie, there seemed to be universal affection toward it. And why not? What's not to like about an enjoyably bad monster flick that has a social conscience?
1989 saw the release of a truly rotten sequel called Bud the C.H.U.D. Even the always-welcome Gerrit Graham couldn't salvage such a toxic screenplay. C.H.U.D. has moments of humor that almost work. Bud the C.H.U.D. is merely idiotic. I wince when I remember how I rented it and Puppetmaster on the same day. Clearly the genre was in the doldrums as the nineties approached.
I watched C.H.U.D. about a million years ago on home video. Today I watched it for the second time. There's an Arrow blu-ray, but I watched the VHS quality DVD in the Midnight Madness series from Image Entertainment. I was fine with the weak transfer. I mean, it's C.H.U.D. The movie doesn't exactly need a Criterion restoration.
Despite the C.H.U.D.'s glaring shortcomings, I had a warm, wonderful time. Watching it took me back to the innocent days when I first bought a VCR. A time when a modest little movie like C.H.U.D. seemed as good as anything by Scorcese, Coppola, or Larry Cohen.
Written by Mark Sieber
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