{"version":"1.0","type":"rich","provider_name":"Acast","provider_url":"https://acast.com","height":250,"width":700,"html":"<iframe src=\"https://embed.acast.com/$/67ef8d23dd74d6439c160aa5/6acd51f9d3bfab176e972088?\" frameBorder=\"0\" width=\"700\" height=\"250\"></iframe>","title":"Basket Case","thumbnail_width":200,"thumbnail_height":200,"thumbnail_url":"https://open-images.acast.com/shows/67ef8d23dd74d6439c160aa5/1791840349841-0054451f-2cd9-4072-bc20-ebc58c181ac5.jpeg?height=200","description":"<p>The next film to emerge from the Oubliette is <em>Basket Case</em> (1981): the debut feature of Frank Henenlotter, a New York exploitation obsessive who spent his youth in the grindhouses of 42nd Street and, with producer Edgar Ievins, put roughly $35,000 of mostly their own money into turning a title he liked into a film he never expected anyone to see.</p><p><br></p><p>Shot on 16mm over about 6 months of spare weeks and weekends, in the last years of Times Square as the Deuce, it follows a wide-eyed young man (Kevin Van Hentenryck) who carries his formerly conjoined and decidedly ill-tempered twin around town in a wicker basket on a revenge tour of the surgeons who split them apart.</p><p><br></p><p>It arrived in 1982 amid the slasher boom, with a first distributor keen to trim the blood, before a Texas midnight show, Joe Bob Briggs and a long run at New York&#39;s Waverly turned it into a midnight staple and, after a well-timed $19.95 VHS, a fixture of fans&#39; bedrooms. It has since been restored by the Museum of Modern Art, which might be the strangest plot twist in the whole saga. But does the film, which has been on Dan&#39;s watchlist since we started the podcast, deserve a place in the world outside the Oubliette? Find out!</p>","author_name":"Conrad Chambers and Daniel Goh"}