Scream Factory's heart will always lie with the 1980s. The specialty Blu-ray/DVD label has put out everything from vintage monster flicks to modern-day ghost stories, but it will always owe a great deal of its success to those titles released in the golden age of late-night cable slasher films and oversized VHS boxes. If there's a movie featuring hormonally-charged teens getting chased through a forest to the beat of a synth-fueled soundtrack, chances are that Scream Factory has at least attempted to secure the rights and give it a high-def upgrade. These pictures may not be everyone's cup of bloody tea, but they're bound to put a smile on somebody's face, which is the case with two pseudo-obscurities straight out of the horror genre's early '80s heyday: Evilspeak and Final Exam.
 
FINAL EXAM (1981). The last round of tests has arrived for the students of Lanier College. Some are hitting the books hard, some are cheating their way to a passing grade -- and some won't live to see the outcome. With no clear motive, a madman has strolled onto campus and begun taking out the kids one by one, leaving the survivors scrambling to stop the rampage before it's too late. For the most part, Final Exam feels like its makers filmed a three-page outline of the story rather than a complete screenplay. The characters are boringly generic, almost an hour passes until any of the main cast members start biting the dust, and the villain is one of the most blatantly uninspired in the slasher genre's history. But I'd be lying if I said that Final Exam's innumerable faults didn't tickle me as much as they infuriated me. It's a harmless product of the early '80s slasher boom, coming off as almost charming in its low-rent nature. The fact that the killer is just some regular-looking guy in an army jacket who's offing these kids for no reason at all seems amusing in a way, and the students themselves are mundane to the point of actually being more relatable than most victim pools turn out to be. There's also more of a conscious effort to emphasize suspense over gushing blood at play, giving us a film far less sleazy and exploitative in tone than a lot of quickie slasher cash-ins of the era. Final Exam is still an unimaginative, by-the-numbers fright fest, but it's too innocent for anyone to get themselves very worked up over it.
 
BONUS FEATURES:

-Interviews with cast members Joel S. Rice, Cecile Bagdadi, and Sherry Willis-Burch

-Audio commentary with Rice, Bagdadi, Willis-Burch, and musician Deron Miller (moderated by Julia Marchese)

-A theatrical trailer
 
EVILSPEAK (1981). They never should've picked on Stanley Coopersmith (Clint Howard). As an orphan in the care of a military academy, Coopersmith has experienced merciless torment at the hands of his fellow classmates. But all of that changes when our boy comes upon a satanic altar on school grounds and summons the forces of darkness to help him seek revenge. Evilspeak feels like the product of things that were prominent in popular culture at the time. Devil worship was a thing, so that figures heavily into the story. Computers were a thing, and since '80s cinema declared that they could do anything, the movie uses them as a means for Coopersmith to dial up demonic entities. Evilspeak has the makings of one of those crazy cult flicks you run out in feverish glee and beg all your friends to see, but it doesn't have the charm to pull it off. It's honestly a pretty miserable experience, what with its tone constantly switching from startlingly bleak to campy silliness, back and forth and without a moment's notice. The film tries pleasing all tastes and satisfies few, failing to stake its claim as both a hardened horror jaunt and as an effects-driven cheesefest. All we do is watch Coopersmith get beaten up by the comically-evil supporting players for two entire acts, and although Howard deserves kudos for not filling his role with any self-aware winking, there's nothing to his character beyond how much he suffers. Evilspeak spares some genuinely creepy segments and amusingly inexplicable non sequiturs, but it hasn't the chops to execute its content with a straight face or an ironic smirk.
 
BONUS FEATURES:

-Satan's Pigs and Severed Heads, a making-of documentary

-Audio commentary with producer/director/co-writer Eric Weston (moderated by Bill Olson)

-Interviews with actors Clint Howard, Don Stark, and Joe Cortese

-An interview with special make-up artist Allan A. Apone

-A theatrical trailer