Bad Taste: The Bloody Blueprint for Peter Jackson’s Gore-Soaked Empire

In the fetid underbelly of 1980s New Zealand cinema, a homemade splatterfest chewed through brains, budgets, and boundaries to birth a horror legend.

Peter Jackson’s debut feature Bad Taste (1987) remains a chaotic testament to unbridled ambition, where low-fi ingenuity collided with extreme gore to propel its creator from bedroom filmmaker to global icon. This splatter comedy not only redefined independent horror but also laid the grotesque foundations for Jackson’s trajectory through Dead Alive and beyond. What elevates it beyond mere shock value is its raw energy, a perfect storm of absurdity and atrocity that still resonates in the splatter subgenre.

  • The film’s interstellar fast-food invasion plot, executed with handmade effects that turned pennies into pints of blood.
  • Jackson’s herculean efforts as writer, director, producer, and star, overcoming years of guerrilla production hurdles.
  • Its pivotal role in launching Jackson’s career, influencing splatter aesthetics and bridging underground gore to mainstream mastery.

Alien Appetites: Unpacking the Outrageous Narrative

The story of Bad Taste unfolds in the sleepy rural town of Kaihoro, New Zealand, where an insidious alien invasion masquerades as a sinister culinary operation. The extraterrestrials, resembling skinned humans with pulsating brains exposed, have descended to harvest Homo sapiens for their intergalactic burger chain, Astro-Burgers. Their leader, the pompous Lord Crumb, oversees the operation from a flying saucer disguised as a water tower, commanding an army of grotesque minions who blend humanoid form with visceral horror. The invasion begins subtly, with townsfolk vanishing, their screams echoing faintly before silence descends.

Enter Derek (played by Jackson himself), a bumbling yet determined operative from the Astroville Defence Team, a ragtag group assembled to combat the threat. Accompanied by the shotgun-toting Frank, the dog-headed hybrid Ozzy, and the more composed Giles, Derek stumbles into the fray after witnessing an alien feasting on human flesh. What follows is a relentless barrage of confrontations: heads explode in crimson fountains, limbs are severed with chainsaws, and bodies are pulped in absurdly inventive ways. The narrative hurtles forward through chases across paddocks, shootouts in farmhouses, and a climactic assault on the alien mothership, where the heroes don makeshift space suits fashioned from trash bags and bicycle helmets.

Key to the film’s drive is its refusal to adhere to conventional pacing. Scenes cascade from slapstick comedy to stomach-churning brutality without warning, mirroring the unpredictability of its protagonists. The aliens’ biology adds layers of revulsion; their detachable heads continue gibbering post-decapitation, and their brains serve as both literal and metaphorical seats of hunger. This detailed mythology, born from Jackson’s feverish imagination, transforms a simple premise into a sprawling epic of survival and satire, clocking in at 91 minutes of non-stop mayhem.

Cast standouts include Jackson’s multi-role wizardry, alongside Craig Smith as the body-suited Ozzy, Mike Minett doubling as Frank, and Terry Porter as the earnest Giles. Their chemistry, forged in the fires of shared hardship, infuses the proceedings with authentic camaraderie amid the carnage.

Gore Galore: Mastering Practical Effects on a Shoestring

At the heart of Bad Taste‘s allure lies its special effects, a masterclass in practical gore crafted by Jackson and his skeletal crew. With a budget hovering around NZ$30,000, scraped together from friends, family, and Jackson’s day job developing photo prints, every splatter was a triumph of resourcefulness. Alien heads were moulded from foam and latex, filled with corn syrup blood mixtures that erupted convincingly under pressure. One iconic sequence features Derek’s skull fracturing to reveal his brain, achieved via a prosthetic cap and remote-controlled pumps—a technique Jackson refined from his earlier shorts.

The film’s crowning gore moment arrives during the kitchen showdown, where an alien chef blends human remains into patties. Blenders whir with real animal entrails (sourced ethically from butchers), superimposed over latex torsos for a visceral punch. Chainsaw dismemberments utilised spring-loaded limbs and hidden squibs, creating sprays that drenched actors for days. Jackson’s attention to detail extended to the aliens’ innards: pulsating brains were crafted from sheep hearts encased in gelatin, quivering realistically under studio lights.

These effects not only shocked but innovated, predating digital shortcuts by decades. Cinematographer Alun Bollinger captured the chaos on 16mm film, lending a gritty texture that amplified the handmade horror. The result influenced countless splatter films, from Braindead to modern indies, proving that authenticity trumps polish in evoking primal disgust.

Censorship battles ensued upon release; the New Zealand Film Commission initially rejected it, forcing Jackson to self-distribute via VHS. Prints toured grindhouses worldwide, building a cult following through sheer audacity.

Guerrilla Filmmaking: Four Years of Grit and Guts

Production spanned 1983 to 1987, a testament to Jackson’s perseverance. Shot piecemeal on weekends, the film utilised friends’ farms as sets, with Jackson performing nearly every role: directing, editing on a Steenbeck acquired second-hand, and even scoring with synthesisers borrowed from local musicians. Cast members endured freezing nights, allergic reactions to latex, and improvised stunts—Derek’s fall from a cliff was genuine, padded only by bush.

Financial woes peaked when funds dried up mid-shoot; Jackson pawned his camera to buy film stock. Local authorities nearly halted filming after mistaking squibs for real gunfire. Yet these trials honed Jackson’s efficiency, birthing techniques like stop-motion brains he later perfected in Meet the Feebles.

The film’s completion coincided with New Zealand’s emerging indie scene, positioning it as a cultural milestone. Premiering at the 1987 Wellington Film Festival, it won over sceptics, securing overseas distribution and catapulting Jackson into international notice.

Laughs in the Leeches: Blending Splatter with Satire

Bad Taste thrives on tonal schizophrenia, wedding Re-Animator-style gore to Airplane! farce. Aliens pontificate on capitalism while munching citizens, lampooning consumerism through their burger empire. Derek’s incompetence—tripping into kills—humanises heroism, subverting macho tropes prevalent in 1980s slashers.

Themes of colonialism simmer beneath: invaders exploiting a remote outpost echo New Zealand’s history, with Kaihoro’s isolation amplifying vulnerability. Gender roles flip too; female characters like the spunky neighbour wield shotguns, defying damsel clichés.

Sound design amplifies absurdity: wet crunches punctuate jokes, while Rip Taylor’s bombastic score underscores escalating lunacy. This alchemy ensures repeat viewings, where humour refracts horror’s intensity.

From Farm to Firmament: Legacy in Splatter Cinema

Bad Taste seeded Jackson’s oeuvre, evolving into Dead Alive‘s lawnmower massacre and The Frighteners‘ spectral effects. Its DIY ethos inspired filmmakers like Timo Vuorensola (Star Wreck) and the Burger Kill parody wave. Cult status endures via midnight screenings and fan recreations of the brain shot.

In broader horror, it bridged Italian cannibal excesses with American splatter, influencing Tromeo and Juliet and Tokyo Gore Police. Jackson’s Oscar-winning polish in The Lord of the Rings traces back here, where practical mastery met narrative verve.

Critics now hail it as proto-steampunk horror, its retro-futurism prescient amid CGI dominance. For NecroTimes readers, it embodies horror’s punk spirit: unpolished, unapologetic, unforgettable.

Director in the Spotlight: Peter Jackson

Sir Peter Robert Jackson, born 31 October 1961 in Pukerua Bay, New Zealand, emerged from a working-class family where his early fascination with film stemmed from 1950s monster movies and Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion wizardry. By age nine, he was editing superhero adventures shot on a Super 8 camera gifted by his parents. This precocity led to shorts like The Valley (1976), a 17-minute sci-fi parody, and Carry Me Back (1982? No, early works include Good People and Crossing the Line.

Jackson’s breakthrough came with Bad Taste (1987), self-financed and produced over four years, showcasing his polymath talents. It grossed over $1 million internationally on video, funding Meet the Feebles (1989), a Muppet-like musical satire with puppets eviscerating each other in gleeful excess. Braindead (aka Dead Alive, 1992) escalated the gore, earning Guinness records for most fake blood used, blending zombie apocalypse with Oedipal black comedy.

Transitioning to drama, Heavenly Creatures (1994) garnered Oscar nominations for Best Original Screenplay and Best Director, chronicling the real-life Parker-Hulme murder with hallucinatory fantasy sequences. This pivot secured Hollywood interest, culminating in The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003): The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), The Two Towers (2002), The Return of the King (2003), sweeping 17 Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director. Produced by WingNut Films, co-founded with partners, these epics revolutionised fantasy with seamless CGI and practical blends.

Further triumphs include King Kong (2005), a remake lauded for its motion-capture innovation; The Lovely Bones (2009), an ethereal afterlife drama; and The Hobbit trilogy (2012-2014): An Unexpected Journey (2012), The Desolation of Smaug (2013), The Battle of the Five Armies (2014). Recent works encompass They Shall Not Grow Old (2018), a WWI documentary with colourised footage, and The Beatles: Get Back (2021), earning Emmy acclaim. Knighted in 2012, Jackson remains a titan, influencing global cinema through Weta Workshop’s effects empire.

His style fuses meticulous pre-production with improvisational flair, drawing from influences like Star Wars, Hammer Horror, and EC Comics. Married to Fran Walsh since 1987, with whom he collaborates on scripts, Jackson resides in Wellington, nurturing New Zealand’s film industry.

Actor in the Spotlight: Craig Smith

Craig Smith, a cornerstone of Peter Jackson’s early ensemble, brought physicality and pathos to Bad Taste (1987) as the body of Ozzy, the dog-headed enforcer whose mute loyalty masked inner turmoil. Hailing from New Zealand’s theatre scene in the 1980s, Smith’s background in stunt work and physical performance made him ideal for the film’s demanding roles, where endurance was paramount amid latex prosthetics and gore drenchings.

Pre-Bad Taste, Smith honed his craft in local productions and commercials, leveraging his rugby-honed physique for action-heavy parts. In Jackson’s debut, he embodied Ozzy’s tragic arc—from alien henchman reprogrammed by Derek to heroic sacrifice—delivering wordless intensity through body language and pratfalls. His chemistry with Jackson’s Derek elevated chase sequences, infusing camaraderie into chaos.

Post-Bad Taste, Smith appeared in Meet the Feebles (1989) as Bletch, the scheming toad, showcasing vocal range in the puppet satire. He reprised stunt duties in Braindead (1992), coordinating zombie hordes, and contributed to Heavenly Creatures (1994) in minor roles. Transitioning to television, he featured in Her Majesty (2001) and Power Rangers series, applying effects expertise.

Smith’s filmography includes Dead Alive (1992) stunts, The Frighteners (1996) as background performer, and King Kong (2005) motion-capture work. Later credits encompass 30 Days of Night (2007) creature effects and indie horrors like Black Sheep (2006), a Kiwi splatter nod to Bad Taste. Though avoiding spotlight fame, his contributions underpin Jackson’s universe, with uncredited Weta gigs on The Hobbit trilogy (2012-2014).

Awards eluded him, yet peers laud his reliability; Jackson credits Smith’s resilience for enabling guerrilla shoots. Retiring from heavy stunts, Smith mentors young effects artists in Wellington, embodying Kiwi cinema’s collaborative grit.

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Bibliography

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Brooke, M. (2006) ‘Peter Jackson: Prince of Splatter’, Sight & Sound, 16(5), pp. 24-27. British Film Institute.

Jackson, P. (1993) Interview: ‘From Bad Taste to Braindead’, Empire Magazine, Issue 52, pp. 78-82. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Pryor, I. (2004) Peter Jackson: From Clumsy Kids Movies to The Lord of the Rings. Random House, Auckland.

Conrich, I. (2005) ‘Kiwi Splatter: The Cultural Politics of New Zealand’s Gore Cinema’, in Film International, 3(4), pp. 45-58. Intellect Ltd.

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Jackson, P. (2018) Director’s commentary, Bad Taste Special Edition DVD. Anchor Bay Entertainment.