Review: ‘In Search of Darkness: Part II’

The 1980s was an impactful time for horror films. The slasher sub genre flourished. Notable classics were starting to get remade. Filmmakers like John Carpenter, David Cronenberg, and Sam Raimi were pushing the boundaries of what could be done. The Reagan era was tumultuous enough to give us terrors that have echoed through the last four decades, brought to life with gooey practical effects that caused controversy and adoration in equal amounts. It’s a time so fascinating that many documentaries have been made covering it. Some focus on an individual horror film of the time. Others dive deep into full film franchises.

In a more ambitious turn, 2019’s In Search of Darkness sought to look back on the entire decade’s contributions to the genre. Director David Weiner collected an eclectic group of talking heads to speak on 80s horror year-by-year and film-by-film, ranging from filmmakers to critics to online personalities. The final result clocked in at the monstrous length of 263 minutes, which one may assume would be enough to give the subject service. However, much like any successful horror film of the 1980s, you can’t expect such a monstrous documentary to lie dormant for too long. 

David Weiner is now unleashing a sequel In Search of Darkness: Part II. After the original film covered massive hits like A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Shining, this second entry chooses to cover a few deeper cuts. The likes of Ghoulies, Cannibal Holocaust, and Maniac Cop are given the spotlight. Films that made their profits off capturing people’s attention via VHS covers in rental stores. As a young horror fan, my own entry level into the genre tended to be the exploits of Freddy Kruger, Jason Voorhees, or Chucky. All characters that had become boogeymen on the playground as a child, terrifying me long before I saw a single frame of their films. So, the natural next step was finding recommendations for the cult favorites I’d never heard of before that went weirder than the typical slasher. Finding these gems and making them new favorites was a constant delight that In Search of Darkness: Part II seeks to capture in a whopping 275 minute package.

In Search of Darkness: Part II explores these hidden horror gems of the era with love, but also with an appropriately critical lens. There are entire sections devoted to horror mainstays like Linnea Quigley, Nancy Allen, and Robert “Freddy Krueger” England looking back on their careers frankly. Familiar faces who add a distinct flair to whatever weird genre piece they’re in. They have a lot of love for the genre yet display clear regrets about being typecast and underserved in the industry. In Search of Darkness: Part II reckons with the ramifications of the horror cinema of the era far more than the first film. It acknowledges sexism and underserved representation for minorities that held back the potential of a genre known for pushing the boundaries. Allen addresses the complex history of her previous work, namely Dressed to Kill and its outdated depictions of trans people. Barbara Crampton highlights her lack of consistent roles after she merely turned 35. Gedde Watanabe expresses regret over roles written for Asian actors of the time. These are areas the first documentary rarely touched on in favor of blind nostalgia, a common problem with genre fan communities all around. In Search of Darkness: Part II knows that the specific joy of the time period is worth praising, but not by forgetting about the drawbacks.

However, there’s far less shape to this follow up. One can clearly see that many of these interviews were leftover material from the first documentary’s shoot. Right out the gate we get clips from the recently deceased Larry Cohen and Stuart Gordon talking about their early influences. Even the clips we get of horror legends that are still with us feel like scraps that could have simply served as bonus material on a Blu-Ray. The structural integrity of Part II strains the extensive runtime far more than the first. Segments talking about specific & noteworthy films like Little Shop of Horrors are far shorter. The spotlights for actors or subgenres that usually bookended year-by-year rundowns are jumbled next to each other. There’s even a segment devoted to horror video games of the time that just feels like an excuse to have internet personality James Rolfe display his Angry Video Game Nerd persona. It unsettles the formula in a way that doesn’t present something new and exciting for the documentary as much as further proves the shambled form this sequel takes.

Still, even the crumbs of tidbits from legends like Joe Dante or Heather Lagenkamp are far better than the lengthier interviews with the chosen horror fans. Both In Search of Darkness films are extremely guilty of relying heavily on fan voices to discuss entire films on their own. This isn’t necessarily a consistent fault, as voices like Daily Dead editor Heather Wixon or Fangoria editor Phil Noble Jr. manage to speak with authority on the impact of the lesser known horror faire of the 1980s from an engaging perspective. The trouble is when certain talking heads regurgitate basic trivia about their subjects without individual angle. YouTubers like Cecil Trachtenberg or James A. Janese deliver basic truths about films that work for their own isolated video content, but feel calculated and robotic compared to the more natural rhythms of someone like John Carpenter chilling in his armchair.

Ultimately, In Search of Darkness: Part II feels less like a full formed follow up and more like additional content hidden behind a special features menu. While the first had plenty of similar problems, it was far more functional as a documentary. Still, there’s a lot of material in here about elder influences and marginalized voices in the horror community that could have made the initial documentary far more well rounded. Looking back, both In Search of Darkness films feel like incomplete parts of a whole. I’m definitely not saying they need to be turned into a nine hour monstrosity combined together, but a middle ground between the comprehensive look at the classics and a spotlight on the underrated would have given us a far more complete picture of a decade as important for horror as the 1980s. Instead, we get this extended collage of formless yet curious scraps separated from its greatest hits highlight reel of a predecessor.