Best known as a special effects makeup artist, John Carl Buechler eventually moved to the director’s chair. For Buechler’s second feature in this role, we go to 1988’s Cellar Dweller.

Colin Childress (Jeffrey Combs) draws the popular comic book Cellar Dweller. However, his work inadvertently triggers supernatural elements when a drawing invokes a demon who appears to kill him.

30 years later, the Childress home exists as a creative institute. When comic book artist Whitney Taylor (Debrah Farentino) digs around the building, she repeats Colin’s mistake and creates a perilous situation.

The shift from effects makeup to director doesn’t sound like a natural one, though Buechler wasn’t the only person to make that leap. Indeed, horror seemed more amenable to that change in job than other genres, as folks like Greg Nicotero also did so.

Buechler didn’t make much of a dent as a director. He did get to lead 1988’s Friday the 13th Part VII, one of the series’ weaker films, and 1986’s Troll enjoys a decent cult audience, but otherwise he left his main mark as an effects artist.

None of this meant Cellar couldn’t become an enjoyable horror tale, of course. I went into the film with the hopes that it’d bring a solid genre effort.

At times, Cellar shows potential. However, the end result lacks enough content to sustain it.

Really, Cellar feels like it’d work best as a segment in a horror anthology. The basic premise seems intriguing, but the film can’t sustain it.

Major portions of the film plod and feel like filler. We get superfluous scenes that run much longer than necessary, all as Buechler attempts to pad out Cellar to feature length.

Which it barely achieves, as 78 minutes becomes a bare-bones running time for a movie. This just supports my impression that a much shorter version of Cellar - one included as part of a package of stories – would fare much better.

Despite these drawbacks, Cellar comes with spasms of cleverness. As noted, we get a compelling premise, and some of the scenes manage to bring it to life.

However, we just get too few of these in the greater scheme of things. Cellar can’t find enough useful material to occupy its 78 minutes, so the end result becomes a slow and erratic experience.

Cellar Dweller appears in an aspect ratio of 1.85:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. Though the image showed its age, it held up reasonably well.

Sharpness looked fairly good. Delineation could feel a little soft at times, but most of the material came across as reasonably accurate.

I discerned no problems related to jagged edges or moiré effects, and edge haloes created no distractions. Grain seemed natural, and I saw no print flaws.

Colors tended toward an organic vibe, with a minor brown impression and some chilly blues. The hues didn’t dazzle but they felt fairly well-depicted.

Black levels appeared reasonably dark while shadow detail presented acceptable delineation. The image remained perfectly watchable and presented the source in a positive manner.

While not great, LPCM stereo soundtrack of Cellar worked fine given its era and genre. The soundfield boasted pretty good stereo presence for the film’s score, and effects broadened to the sides in a positive manner.

These elements fared best in the handful of action-oriented scenes, as those allowed the material to move across the speakers well. Environmental information also used the channels in a satisfying way, as a few scenes brought us well-depicted breadth.

Audio quality showed its age but remained more than acceptable. Dialogue occasionally sounded a little reedy, but the lines remained intelligible and reasonably natural. Music showed decent range and dimensionality.

Effects seemed similarly positive, though a little distortion popped up at times. Nothing here excelled, but the soundtrack seemed acceptable for its age.

When we move to extras, we start with an audio commentary from special effects makeup artist/actor Michael Deak and film critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain. All three sit together for this running look at Deak’s career.

The track almost never reflects the onscreen action – and fails to tell us a lot about Cellar Dweller itself, as Deak usually addresses general aspects of his work in movies. This may disappoint Cellar fans who want lots of insights, but I won’t complain too much.

That’s because Deak gives us a lot of good stories and thoughts. Budrewicz and Wain mainly act as interviewers, and they help spark Deak to provide a solid collection of memories.

Two featurettes follow, and Grabbed by the Ghoulies runs 16 minutes, three seconds. Here we find more from Budrewicz and Wain.

They discuss the career of director John Carl Buechler, with an emphasis on appreciation. They give us a solid overview.

Inside the Cellar goes for 16 minutes, 30 seconds. It again features Deak.

He talks about his career and work on Cellar. Inevitably, some of this repeats from the commentary, but we still get a good look at the topics.

Trailers includes a VHS promo as well as two “More Films by Empire Pictures” promos.

Two Image Galleries appear: “Behind the Scenes” (16 elements) and “Artwork and Stills” (44). Both offer decent additions to the set.

An Original Sales Sheet fills two screens and shows the studio’s pitch to exhibitors. Original Production Notes spans 16 screens and gives us a press kit.

Though not devoid of promise, Cellar Dweller lacks the content it needs to flesh out a feature film – even one that runs a mere 78 minutes. Despite glimmers of entertainment value, the movie feels too insubstantial and padded to work. The Blu-ray brings largely positive picture and audio as well as a mix of bonus features. Nothing here makes Cellar a bad movie – and I’ve certainly seen much worse from its era-mates – the final product nonetheless lacks great impact.

Note that this release of Cellar Dweller comes only as part of a five-film package called “Enter the Video Store: Empire of Screams”. In addition to Cellar Dweller, it brings four other movies from Empire Pictures: Dungeonmaster, Dolls, Arena and Robot Jox.

The set includes non-disc-based elements as well. According to Arrow, it comes with “double-sided posters featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Ilan Sheady; 15 postcard-sized reproduction art cards; an Arrow Video store "membership card"; an 80-page perfect bound book featuring new writing on the films by Lee Gambin, Dave Jay, Megan Navarro, and John Harrison, plus select archival material.”

My review copy lacked these components. Nonetheless, I figured I should mention them.