Tourist Trap Review
Written by: joeytonz
Have you ever heard the expression “a mystery wrapped in a riddle wrapped in an enigma?” Tourist Trap is that movie, in spades, but with mannequins. It remains one of the most bizarre movies I’ve ever seen. Director David Schmoeller would go on to direct more straight-forward genre fare like Puppet Master and episodes of Silk Stalkings, but Tourist Trap will always be remembered as the movie that people reacted with: “That was fucking weird. I don’t feel good…”
As the movie begins, the soundtrack by the renowned and brilliant Pino Donaggio pretty much sets the tone for what will follow: a movie that at some points is deeply unsettling, and others, completely and totally ridiculous and odd. It’s almost as if two directors each directed half the movie, whose styles completely contradicted the other. Words fail me as I try to explain this, but I think I can sum this up perfectly. Picture a David Lynch film. Then picture an unhappy studio executive screening the film, picking up a phone and saying “Get me the guys who made Airplane, stat!” That pretty much sums up the mood. But anyway, I ramble, as usual.
The beginning of Tourist Trap introduces us to a group of young teens (of course) as they are temporarily stalled by a flat tire on their way cross-country. One of the unlucky boys, who is a spitting image of the late Steve Irwin but sans accent, rolls the flat to the nearest service station for help. Upon getting there, the boy is haunted by weird, ethereal, slightly erotic moaning emanating from an unseen source. The boy locates the source: a blanket-covered woman lying on a cot in the back of the service station. The boy approaches gingerly, asking the woman if she needs help. Suddenly, she springs forward, laughing in vicious glee and reveals herself to be a MANNEQUIN. WHAT THE FUCK? The mannequin continues to laugh, its jaw clomping wildly in its mannequin glee. The boy, understandably freaked out, tries to escape the room but windows close and lock themselves as doors slam themselves shut. Another mannequin, this one headless, smashes through the window. The boy is then assaulted by ANOTHER MANNEQUIN, bursting forth from the closet and laughing more creepily than the previous dummy. As the boy backs up in fear, he kicks a small mannequin head that lies on the ground. He looks on in fear as the head slowly turns and opens its mouth wide. And your reviewer is utterly terrified. What the fuck is going on? The room begins going insane as cabinets open and close and objects are mysteriously hurled at the boy as he tries to escape, and all during this fiasco the mannequins continue to laugh. God, this is what it must be like inside Salvador Dali’s head. A pipe is suddenly hurled at, and through, the boy and the commotion comes to an end. We pan around the room, taking in the sudden serenity, and then catch back up with our public domain funky-jazz loving teens.
The teens experience ANOTHER problem with their car, so the kids do a mixture of car-repairing and woods-wandering, ending up in a swimming hole. Of course this ends up with the girls skinny-dipping, because why shouldn’t it? The movie already has living mannequins, so shut your cake hole. Molly is understandably nervous about the prospect of skinny dipping. She also wears a sundress and a large wicker hat. She, of course, is the main protagonist because she’s portrayed as frumpy as possible. During their romp, we meet Mr. Slausen, owner of Slausen’s Lost Oasis, who approaches them with a large shotgun and cowboy hat. The girls are understandably creeped out. Soft guitar music plays as Slausen lays down his airing of grievances he has with the local town bureaucrats as the girls, naked as they day they were born, cover their dirty pillows. Mr. Slausen gives the kids a lift back to his house under the guise of getting some tools to help fix their car. But honestly, both the audience and Mr. Slausen want to see these kids get haunted and slaughtered by sighing mannequins. And boy do they.
Slausen, showing off his house of weirdies, continues to do, say and act in a manner most befitting of creepy old men that people should avoid at all costs, but the kids still take great delight in him and remain in his house of fake people. One of the more adventurous girls, Eileen, goes to the house that Mr. Slausen told her to stay away from, and what does she find? If you guessed mannequins, you’d be awesome. Uh-oh, looks like Eileen’s getting her just desserts for messin’ where she ought not be messin’. A weirdly-masked figure, whose sudden psychokinetic powers are more bewildering than creepy, cause the girl a slow, strangling trip to unconscious land. Slausen returns (convenient timing, eh?), lays down an obligatory two-minute exposition on his dead wife and the pain it has caused him, and then leaves again, citing his desire to find the wandering Eileen. In an amusing scene, Slausen wanders into a room, sees a mannequin sitting in the corner of the room, not moving, and says “My God!” as if he is disturbed, even though he lives SURROUNDED by these things 24/7.
Once again, Slausen leaves, this time to attend to the broken-down car, and once again, one of the other girls, Becky, goes to the same house looking for Eileen. She slowly approaches what looks like a person sitting in a chair with their back to her. A la Psycho, she spins the chair around to reveal a horrid mannequin. Phew, only a mannequin…a mannequin that then LUNGES at her with a shriek. As Becky makes her escape, another figure lunges at her from the darkness. But—the mannequin just…well, if the mannequin wasn’t the—What the fuck is happening in this movie? Becky opens a door randomly, hoping for escape, but is forced to play tackle with a bunch of mannequins who sigh and quiver like they’re at a Bright Eyes concert. Back with Molly, seems she’s become totally enamored with the mannequin made to honor Slausen’s dead wife. Uh-oh, Molly—don’t let Slausen see that. He might go fucking apeshit and think you’re his wife reincarnated or some shit. Becky is taken down to the cellar where—surprise!—turns out pretty much all the teens thought dead so far are tied to random objects. The mysterious figure, whose voice clearly betrays the fact that it’s just Mr. Slausen, disappears momentarily, but only to return now dressed in a tux and top hat with a tray of champagne. For the moment he was gone, the kids discussed what to do about their situation involving “Slausen’s crazy brother.” Honestly, what—because Slausen walks with a limp and this guy doesn’t, we’re expected to think the killer is someone totally different, despite that obnoxiously unique and gravelly voice? Oh, that’s right—kids in the late 70’s were almost as retarded as they are now.
The mysterious masked figure then begins to apply white goo to Eileen’s face, I guess, to begin the process of turning her to a mannequin. Eileen succumbs to her white goo death, prompting Jerry to attack having escaped his bindings. Then he’s thrown violently against the wall and instantly killed. Thanks, Jerry. Thanks so much for your help. Slausen continues to ramble as Becky eyes the key to her chains on the ground next to his foot. As she reaches for it slowly, Slausen nonchalantly moves the key away from her with his mind. No, seriously, what the fuck is going on in this movie? This simple country man who makes mannequins has psychokinetic powers? Molly wanders the woods, looking for her friends. Disguised Slausen then jumps out at her, holding a mannequin head at arm’s length. “See my friend?” he grumbles, as the mouth on the mannequin head opens widely and screams. I am given the creepers. For serious. For good measure, Slausen then heaves the screaming head at her as she turns and flees. The head, landing on the ground in front of her, promptly turns by itself and yells at her. I am given the creepers. Again.
Molly hooks up with Slausen, not knowing he is the killer (are we supposed to still not know?) and he takes her back to the house for whatever reason. Slausen gives Molly a rifle and tells her to shoot at whatever she deems necessary is in need of a shooting. Slausen disappears momentarily, but gosh, in his absence, the mysterious masked killer shows up, who Molly promptly shoots. “Ooh, little girl,” the killer weasels, “you shot me with blanks!” Looks like the killer has the upper hand. That is, of course, until she beats the killer in the face with the gun, shattering his plaster mask to reveal…SLAUSEN. Holy fucker, I’m shocked. Are you shocked? Me neither. Molly runs, flailing her arms and screaming. Despite this, Slausen still finds time to have a completely insane lunch with a mannequin, whom he has the following conversation with:
Slausen: Eat your soup. It’s nice and hot.
Mannequin: Let’s eat.
Slausen: That’s what I said, let’s eat. Is it good?
Mannequin: Yes, it’s very good.
Slausen: Want some crackers?
Mannequin: I’d like some more crackers, please.
Slausen: That’s what I said.
Mannequin: Yes, the crackers are very good.
Slausen: Aren’t da crackas good??
The mannequin’s head falls off, ruining the rest of the date. Sigh. Meanwhile, Jerry, who is still alive apparently, breaks out of his chains, frees Becky, and they escape the cellar. As they make their way down a hallway lined to the gills with mannequins, Slausen, now sporting a kicky blond wing, spots them from within the room he is sitting in while playing with dolls. Haha, I know. He sits and plays with dolls as his fake mannequin parents read the newspaper and knit. “Don’t fidget so much,” his fake mother says, as Slausen gets up to follow the newly-escaped kids. Jerry, deciding he’s had enough of this mannequin bullshit, throws himself through the window and hauls ass out of there. Slausen disinterestedly follows until Becky also escapes, heading the opposite way. Oh no, two potential victims escaping in two different directions? What’s a cross-dressing, mask wearing, batshit insane split-personality with psychokinetic abilities to do? Not much, as is evidenced by his reaction. But that’s only so “Slausen” can come around the corner and save the day, that is until Becky wises up to the fact that Slausen is actually the killer. She stupidly runs into his show room, where she attempts to hide until she is promptly flushed out by the gunshots of John Wilkes Booth and killed by a dagger tossed into the back of her head courtesy of an Indian chief. I’m not even kidding. With Molly back in bed wearing a clay mask, Slausen suddenly comes to the haunting realization that he killed both his wife and his brother because they were “whoring around together.” Oh, Slausen—your audience seriously doesn’t care. We’re too creeped out and unnerved by the previous 85 minutes.
Jerry breaks in and frees Molly. Jerry asks where Becky and Eileen are. Slausen laughs, because he’s totally insane at this point. Slausen continues to laugh as he rips Jerry limb from limb because it turns out Jerry is a mannequin. All the other mannequins in the room slowly come to life as Slausen grabs one and dances with it, and during the dance the mannequin laughs and becomes a real person. Then the mannequins all scream in terror as Molly kills Slausen with an axe. Then she screams. I told you this movie was fucking fucked-up, crazy bananas. The last shot has Molly driving down the street with mannequin versions of all her friends filling out the car that now suddenly works, as Pino Donaggios’s score assaults our every sense, slamming home the fact that, yes, what you just experienced was real and no, you will never forget it. God bless you, David Schmoeller. God bless you, Chuck Connors. God bless us everyone. I’ve gotta go take a shower and pray to my God, because I feel really uncomfortable.