When Stop the Killer announced that Basket Case would be the next title to get the novelization treatment, I told a friend that it was very likely to be Armando Muñoz’ most deranged offering yet. As he has so far displayed a consistent habit of adding sexual perversion to the characters’ backstories in his previous novels, it stood to reason that Frank Henenlotter’s already twisted tale would lend itself quite easily to that sort of thing.
And friends, I was 100% right.
Assuming everyone reading the novel is a fan of the film, it shouldn’t be surprising that things get weird when you add Muñoz’s increasingly warped imagination. The film flirts with uncomfortable sexual material here and there, so given the freedom of a novel (one without the low budget Henenlotter was restricted by), it would be almost insulting if the author didn’t take those briefly seen ideas and run with them.
As always, he otherwise sticks to the story as we saw it, though it seems he has added more material of his own than usual. Some of this stuff came from older screenplays (the doctor in the opening scene, named Lifflander in the film, has his name restored to its original “Pillsbury” here, for example), but Muñoz has also taken it upon himself to flesh out the residents of the Broslin hotel where most of the film takes place. In the movie, they’re basically extras, mostly unnamed. Here, we get to know them a little more than their on-screen counterparts.
Most of the additions involve Duane and Belial’s previously unseen adventures in New York. The movie shows them heading out on occasion, like to see the martial arts movie double feature (where a thief briefly steals Belial and loses an eye for his trouble).
Muñoz’s version sends them out far more often, usually to porno theaters or other sex-driven shops. Turns out Belial is even hornier than the movie lets on. Throughout the novel, he finds various ways of pleasuring himself, including gleefully taking the role of a bottom in a glory hole. (Like I said: deranged.)
There are also more murders. Belial kills the cop who questions Duane after Dirty Lou’s murder and also goes on a bit of a rampage during the climax, which is more fleshed out than the movie offered. While you can get the idea that the two brothers share a mind as Duane dreams of running naked through the streets, the book makes what’s going on far clearer.
Whenever we see (naked) Duane in these dream scenes, that means Belial is in that spot in reality, making his way to Sharon, the woman they both love. This is the result of Belial probing his brother’s mind to learn the woman’s address, which he himself did not know. Anyway, as he makes his way there, he kills a couple more cops (earning the respect of the prostitute they were harassing) and an old woman who spots him lurking nearby.
However, as exciting and messed up as all this material is, what makes the book a winner in my eyes is how Muñoz finds many ways of humanizing poor Belial. One of the brothers’ excursions is to see a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, where the little guy sees a kindred spirit in Frank-n-Furter, as he too is shunned by society for being the way he is. This prompts Duane to buy his brother some miniature clothing/props so that he can dress as Tim Curry’s iconic character, with Duane absolutely delighted to see his brother expressing himself so freely.
Later, in a sequence that takes place before Belial’s accidental killing of Duane’s girlfriend (whose role is also expanded here; she fronts a punk band!), the two go around New York and take snapshots of themselves, realizing that they had no photos of the two of them together. It’s a surprisingly sweet addition to the story, and Muñoz really hammers home how lonely these two are and how much they love each other.
And that’s what makes this, in some ways, Munoz’s most diverse offering yet. While his previous three novelizations expanded their respective on-screen stories while retaining the films’ specific tones, this novel has the heart that the movie more or less misses (if it was ever intentional).
I always found it a little weird that the movie’s final moments seem like we are supposed to feel bad for the brothers, as if we should just forget that they murdered at least six people during the film’s events. Here, it feels more earned; thanks to Muñoz’s heartfelt additions, I was genuinely sad for them even though they doubled their body count!
So as long as you aren’t too prudish or easily grossed out by details of Belial’s sex life (including a very thorough description of his penis; enjoy!), I think any Basket Case fan will have a blast with this take on its events. And if you’re merely a fan of what Muñoz has been doing with his series of novelizations (with more on the way), then you will be rewarded with what is probably his most “expanded” take on the existing material, like getting a full director’s cut of the movie.
Basket Case pre-orders are now shipping, and you can order your copy here.
