Combat Shock

Despite dumping the fabulous double-sided posters and 4-panel interchangeable artwork slipcases of past releases, Arrow Video continues to cram bumper crops of juicy extras onto even obscure acquisitions like Combat Shock. The company has wisely included both versions of the film, with the more contemplative American Nightmares probably preferable to the schlockier Troma-released Combat Shock that most people will know.

The center-piece of the features is an enthusiastic retrospective, featuring John McNaughton and Richard Stanley among others waxing lyrical about the film's impact and importance. Hearing about the hype surrounding the movie's release as well as the shattering impact it had on early viewers makes Troma's subsequent misleading release strategy all the more saddening. While it obviously led to more bums on seats, it also meant the film was overlooked by its intended audience (who would have found more to appreciate than the Stallone-worshipers the artwork appealed to).

That Combat Shock has found its fan-base over the years seems due to canny festival programming and pirate distribution rather than Troma's VHS output - one amusing anecdote reveals how some fans were initially exposed to it through 20th-hand copies that they only realised weren't meant to be black and white when they finally saw the film in colour at a horror festival!

Buddy G pops up for a brief interview and on a lively commentary with Nekromantik director Jorg Buttgereit (the two even share a backstage chat at the Berlin Film Festival, although this overlaps with information from the other extras). In turns unassuming and slightly pretentious, Buddy makes for an enlightening guide, referencing Eraserhead as a major stylistic influence with its mutant baby and industrial soundtrack while he describes how he drew inspiration from lurid tabloid horror stories of vets turning homicidal, often against their own families.

He seems to have genuinely wanted to dig a little deeper than those sensationalist headlines (the accompanying booklet offers a selection), and seems proud that his picture has received compliments about its psychological accuracy from actual PTSD sufferers. Another festival appearance shows Buddy with Lloyd Kaufman at the Tromanale, where the pair share more affection for each other than might be expected given Troma's hatchet job treatment and Kaufman's caustic reputation, while Buddy makes the apt assessment of his film as being like "a trip to the dentist".

An interview with lead actor Ricky G gives insight into his life at the time and thereafter, revealing how he was always more of a musician than any kind of film player, although he probably still gets more recognition for his solitary role, despite having become an in-demand orchestrator for massive Hollywood productions. Elsewhere, a modern look at the film's 'Hellscapes' reveals them to have been radically revamped, mercifully eradicating their previous apocalyptic atmosphere, while a selection of Buddy's early shorts prove hard work but definitely display a fully-formed sensibility.

The aforementioned booklet contains an excellent essay by Anthony Trimpone that further establishes the context in which to best approach the film, as a more thoughtful example of NYC's early 80s grind-house boom alongside the work of Frank Basket Case Hennenlotter et al. Graham Humpreys' new cover art is gorgeous, and certainly more fitting than the hilariously naff 80s poster on the flip-side, which ties in quite well with the amusingly mis-representative trailer rounding out the extras.

Like Arrow's recent reissue of The Deadly Spawn, there's no Blu Ray release, but this film was never going to scrub up well for High Definition anyway. You probably won't return to Combat Shock much if at all (Arrow has also recently released the more overtly enjoyable Troma 'classic' Class Of Nukem High and throwaway romp Surf Nazis Must Die), but the features succeed in highlighting why it's still worth investigation today.