Such was the tagline for 1988's follow-up to the previous year's taboo shattering Clive Barker nightmare, Hellraiser. And what a fitting description it was. While the rather unholy mayhem of the original film had been entirely encapsulated within the decaying walls of 66 Lodovico street, Hellbound sought to broaden the playing field by incorporating a sprawling psychiatric hospital and, as the the title would suggest, the labyrinthine plane of hell itself. To call this sequel ambitious is to do it a grave disservice; it is almost monolithic in scope. Right from the get go Christopher Young's grandiose score (which manages to top the regal intensity of his work on the original, no easy feat) informs us that we are about to bear witness to something of great importance. Something massive. Something that's repugnance is only matched by it's subverse grandeloquence. And the opening footage of Doug Bradley a.k.a.Elliot Spencer (though we won't discover that until the dismal third offering in the series) a.k.a Pinhead sitting cross-legged in the center of a quonset hut manipulating the dreaded Lament Configuration confirms to the viewer that, to put it succicntly, the shit is about to hit the fan.
All those who saw the previous film know just what the outcome of that puzzle box brings, and are thus held in rapt attention as Bradley fingers it's contours. Inevitably the box opens, plays it's deceptive little tune, and proceeds to spew out hooked chains which snag poor Doug in dozens of places. But wait, what's this? We are suddenly thrust into the corridors of hell, watching as tentacled arms slice a grid into the soldier's face, stud each intersection with pins, and finally hammer them home. An iconic image of the newly birthed Pinhead, bleeding from his fresh wounds and screaming in agony caps off this little expository sequence. It's improtant to note that the creative team behind this picture decided early on that the Cenobites (Pinhead especially) be given much more facetime and depth of character, due in no small part to audiences world-wide being enamored by the enigmatic butchers. Well they certainly push that conceit up to the forefront with this grisly opening sequence. Interesting, though, is the fact that the fab four and their punctured Priest are only on screen for perhaps three or four more minutes than in the first film. For all the talk about added screentime, the gang only shows up three more times in the entire film, each divided by lenghty intervals. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The main story picks up presumably a few short hours following the events of the original, finding plucky heroine Kirsty confined to a psychiatric hospital. And it is here that we are introduced to Hellbound's greatest asset: the almost chillingly dead-pan doctor Channard, owner and operator of the institute. After Kirsty gives her story to Channard and his associate, the fairly naive Kyle McCrae, we are first tipped off to the fact that the Doc's intentions might be a great deal less benign than they seem. Oddly, Channard has the police bring the fluid saturated matress that Julia died upon delivered to his blindingly white home. Something is definitely awry here. Bumbling Kyle breaks into Channard's estate and bears witness to a study filled top to bottom with occult materials, many of which clearly resemble the dreaded puzzle box Kirsty back at the hospital. Unfortunately for Kyle, the good doctor returns home early, with a particularly deranged mental patient, Browning, in tow. Thinking (and seeing) himself writhing with maggots, this poor soul would like nothing more than to rid himself of the squirming insects. And what's this? Channard has produced a straight razor from a desk drawer, and is offering it to Browning, who has now been seated Julia's death mattress. Delighted, the man begins to scrape his limbs "clean", shedding copious amounts of blood in the process.
This sequence alone managed to top any of the carnage on view in the first Hellraiser. Ingeniously we are shown shots of Browning, maggot-less, wielding the razor and doing himself much bodily harm intercut with nauseating footage from the maniac's point of view, in which the the razor digs deep into meat festering with the pale white creatures. Provided your viewing the unrated version, this little party of self-mutilation is painfully long and drawn out, and by it's end the mattress itself is literally marinating in fresh blood. Browning, on the verge of death, lies back on the matress when, suprise suprise, Julia's flayed corpse emerges from it and overtakes him, sucking away his life essence via a hand through the back of the skull. Channard, his face now dotted with blood, views the entire spectacle with a sort of peculiar detachment: clearly he knew this was going to happen, and doesnt seem the least bit shaken by watching it manifest before him. Kyle, meanwhile, has had enough skinning and ressurection for one night, and flees the Channard abode to go seek out Kirsty in the hospital. Once reunited the two leave the institution and head back to house, wherein Julia has regained much of her skin thanks to an attic full of withered corpses which Channard provided her with for nourishment. But that dreadful doctor has one more trick up his sleeve: a mute teenage girl named Tiffany who does nothing but solve puzzles.
Pretty convenient, eh?
Tiffany sets down in the study and begins work on opening the Lament Configuration while upstairs a wide-eyed Kyle fall's victim to Julia's insastiable quest for new skin. Kirsty stumbles in upon the scene and is promptly knocked out cold by Julia, who it seems has accrued much strength from her rebirth. In the study (with Channard and Julia watching from behind a two way mirror) Tiffany solves the puzzle and summons the cenobites. They do not take the girl however, as Pinhead gravely intones "it is not hands that call us, it is desire." At this point in the film, all hell literally breaks loose. The gateway to the netherworld has been opened and our principal characters (Channard, Julia, Kirsty and Tiffany) descend into it's depths, for a variety of reasons. Kirsty is looking for her father. Tiffany her mother. Channard is drawn in by his own morbid curiosity. Julia is all to happy to lead the doctor into the depths, planning to serve himself up as a sacrifice to the monolithic, gleaming diamond in Hell's sky, Leviathan. From here on in Hellbound becomes a sprawling spectacle of surreal setpieces, terrifying (in both execution and scope) visuals and startling revelations. Who can forget the sinister carnival Tiffany wanders into, it's rows of mirrors alternately showing sewn-mouthed fetuses, distorted, laughing masks and an eyeless clown juggling his dissasociated orbs in palms full of blood?
Or Kirsty entering a replica of her house, only to have the pictures of her mother turn to sinister portraits of Julia, bleeding copiously and birthing roaches from they're crimson pools. But there isnt just eye candy to be had in this cinematic nightmare; there are several plot points and swerves in the story which deepen the already dense mytholology. Channard finally gets the education he so desperated sought, transformed into a piano wire wrapped super cenobite with a huge, phallic tentacle boring into his skull and carrying him about. It is revealed that the ultimate fate of Tiffany's mother ended at the hands of Channard; an incident from which stems her inability to speak. Kirsty finds her ever-licentious uncle Frank imprisoned in a sex-starved hell where he lusts after the writhing bodies of sheathed women who dissapear upon touch. Most significant, though, is the revealing that all the cenobites, not just The Black Pope of Hell himself, had all once been human, a realization prompted by Kirsty showing pinhead a picture of his former self. This bit of exposition leads to one of the more controversial (at least as far as fans of the series are concerned) moments in the film. The Channard cenobite (who, I must mention by the way, is one fucking BADASS villain) promptly kills off our leather clad friends in a suprisingly short showdown.
Many Hellraiser-philes cry blasphemy at this juncture, feeling the original cenobites were unjustly bitched out by the newly minted Cenochard, while failing to realize that their knowledge of their former selves severely drained them of any power they had once possessed. But don't fret, Hellraiser purists, the good doctor certainly gets his in the end. There is certainly more at play here than I care to get into (Hell's labyrinth working as a kind of grand metaphor for Channard's excursions into the living puzzle that is the brain; the Channard institute becoming a gateway to hell, it's patients summarily slaughtered by their former physician; Tiffany gaining her speech back and solving the ultimate puzzle that is Leviathan, Julia ending Frank's life before meeting her own fate) but, me being the insastiable gorehound that I am would like to close off this little case study by drawing attention to the, err, meatier aspects of the film. Simply put, Hellbound is a bloodbath, far exceeding the already very moist original. The highpoint would have to be the aforementioned self-mutilation, but there is SO much more nastiness to take in. We get a face wrapped to bleeding with taut wire, loads of skinless people walking about, loads of decrepit cadavers in various stages of decomposure, some brain fondling, gooey yellow pus vomiting, a pulled off face, a ripped out heart, a spear through the throat, a staggeringly painful looking and drawn out slit throat, and a head torn in two at the jawline. Could this possibly be the goriest mainstream, largely theatrical released film of all time? I don't know, but if it aint, it's certainly in the top five.
So your jonesing for some ultra-graphic, mind-bending and truly original horror viewing? You dig whacked out, imposing villains spouting highly literate, almost regal sounding lines of threatening dialogue. You like your awe-inspiring visuals (check out those matte paintings of Hell's labyrinth) backed up by solid, twisting and engaging storylines. Well, my friend, Hellbound: Hellraiser II is the movie for you...and if I may be so bold, I'll publically go on record declaring this masterpiece to be the very best horror sequel EVER!
Tom (The Engineer) Sputo
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