Alright, fellow tape-heads, let's rewind to 1990. You stumble through the aisles of your local video palace, maybe grabbing some microwave popcorn, and there it is: Basket Case 2. Eight long years after Frank Henenlotter unleashed the singular weirdness of Duane Bradley and his vengeful, lumpy brother Belial onto unsuspecting grindhouse audiences, the sequel finally materialized. And boy, did it lean into the strange. Forget the gritty, Times Square sleaze of the original; this follow-up dives headfirst into a world of gloriously grotesque, rubbery monster-making, feeling less like a horror film and more like a bizarre, heartfelt embrace of the wonderfully deformed.
Welcome to the Family
Picking up directly after the first film's bloody conclusion – where Duane and Belial took a rather nasty tumble out a hotel window – Basket Case 2 quickly whisks our traumatized protagonist (Kevin Van Hentenryck, gamely returning to the role) and his still-breathing basket-bound sibling away from the prying eyes of the public and the sensationalist media. Their unlikely saviors? Granny Ruth (Annie Ross, bringing a surprising warmth and matriarchal steel) and her granddaughter Susan (Kathryn Meisle). Ruth, you see, runs a secluded sanctuary, a sprawling old house filled to the brim with "unique individuals" – folks society has deemed too monstrous or different to accept.
Suddenly, Duane and Belial aren't the only oddities around. This is where Basket Case 2 truly finds its wonderfully warped personality. Henenlotter, who famously struggled to get projects off the ground in the intervening years (making the eight-year gap less a plan and more a result of indie filmmaking realities), used the slightly larger budget this time not for polish, but for more. More creatures, more elaborate designs, more sheer latex insanity.
A Carnival of Creature Comforts
Let's talk about those creatures, because honestly, they steal the show. Crafted by the legendary Gabe Bartalos (who would continue to create amazing practical effects), the residents of Granny Ruth's home are a triumph of pre-digital monster magic. Forget slick CGI; this is all about tangible texture, puppetry, and inventive, often unsettling, design. We get Frog Boy, the worm-like Half-Moon, the guy with dozens of noses – each one a testament to the imaginative power of practical effects. Remember how real that stuff felt on a flickering CRT? The slight awkwardness of the movements, the visible seams sometimes – it paradoxically made them feel more present, more physically there than today's weightless digital creations often do. There's a charm, a handcrafted artistry to it that's pure VHS-era gold. Henenlotter clearly revels in showcasing this menagerie, giving each creature its little moment to shine (or slime, as the case may be).
The plot itself is fairly straightforward: tabloid reporters sniff out the story of the Bradley brothers' survival and threaten the sanctuary's peace, forcing Granny Ruth and her unconventional family to defend their home. This leads to some truly memorable sequences, blending slapstick comedy with genuinely gruesome moments – a hallmark of Henenlotter's distinct style, previously seen not just in the original Basket Case (1982) but also in Brain Damage (1988).
Beyond the Basket
Kevin Van Hentenryck slips back into Duane's skin effortlessly, portraying a man still deeply conflicted, yearning for normalcy while inextricably linked to his monstrous brother. But the real revelation here is Annie Ross. Primarily known as a world-class jazz singer, Ross is magnificent as Granny Ruth. She’s fiercely protective, kind, and possesses a delightful undercurrent of gleeful anarchy. She sells the premise completely, making this bizarre halfway house feel like a genuine, loving (if extremely weird) family unit. Her performance elevates the film beyond mere creature feature schlock.
While the sequel trades the original's raw, low-budget anger for something more akin to a dark, Troma-esque fairy tale, it retains a surprising amount of heart. The theme of finding acceptance among fellow outcasts resonates, even amidst the exploding heads and monstrous mayhem. It’s less interested in shocking you with gore (though there’s plenty of that) and more focused on celebrating its gallery of grotesques. The practical effects are the stars, and watching Belial himself get a love interest (the equally misshapen Eve) is both disturbing and strangely sweet in a way only Henenlotter could pull off.
Retro Fun Fact: The original Basket Case cost a minuscule $35,000 back in 1982. While Basket Case 2's budget was significantly higher (estimated around $1.5-2.5 million), it was still relatively low for the time, forcing Henenlotter and Bartalos to get incredibly creative with their resources to populate Granny Ruth's home with so many distinct creatures. That ingenuity is visible in every frame.
The Verdict
Basket Case 2 might lack the shocking, grimy power of its predecessor, but it compensates with sheer, unadulterated weirdness and a showcase of fantastic practical creature effects. It’s funnier, more colourful, and embraces its identity as a cult film celebrating the monstrous and the misunderstood. Watching it again feels like rediscovering a favourite oddball tape on the rental shelf – maybe slightly faded, definitely bizarre, but brimming with a unique, handcrafted charm that’s hard to resist.
Rating: 7/10 - While not as landmark as the original, Basket Case 2 doubles down on the creature feature elements and boasts amazing practical effects work. It successfully expands the bizarre world Henenlotter created, anchored by a great performance from Annie Ross, making it a must-see for fans of 90s cult horror and masterful monster-making.
Final Thought: In an era before digital artists could conjure anything with a click, Basket Case 2 reminds us of the gooey, tangible magic of latex, foam, and sheer B-movie imagination – a glorious freak show worth the price of admission (or rental!).