Terminal Exposure (1987)
Sometimes you stumble upon a cinematic gem that feels like a personal discovery. That was my experience with Terminal Exposure, a film that proved to be a genuinely delightful surprise. As a longtime admirer of Hope Marie Charlton, particularly her work in the Sidaris films, I’ve often hunted for her more elusive roles outside of Ghoulies III or Nightmare on Elm Street 4. When I realized she had teamed up with director Niko Mastorakis (whose work on Death Has Blue Eyes (1976) and Island of Death (1976) carries a distinct cult energy), my curiosity was piqued. I’m happy to report that the film far exceeded my expectations.
Terminal Exposure feels like a forgotten curiosity, especially within the UK market. While I don’t claim to be an exhaustive expert on every 80s and 90s home video release, I’m not sure this got a decent release here in the UK. However, it feels like the ultimate “bargain bin” find, the kind of low-key, character-driven thriller that genre fans live to uncover.
The film’s greatest strength is its leading cast, who bring a warmth and genuine camaraderie to the screen. Our two leads, Lenny (Mark Hennessy) and Bruce (Scott King) navigate the central mystery with a refreshing friendly dynamic that avoids the typical stereotypes of the era. Whilst they are both young, a little dumb and lonely, their chemistry feels authentic, punctuated by moments of what looks like genuine, unscripted laughter. A standout sequence involves a slightly awkward running chase that feels delightfully improvised, as if the actors are playfully trying to outrun each other and perhaps the camera itself.
As for the performances, though her screen time is feels a little limited, Hope Marie Carlton is pure magnetic charisma. Every moment she is on screen is a highlight. King delivers a surprisingly strong debut with impressive comedic timing, while Hennessy anchors the film with a gravelly, noir-style narration that adds an unexpected layer of depth.
Veteran actors John Vernon and Joe Estevez provide fantastic support. Vernon injects a dark, menacing energy as the villain, though he plays it with a more subtle hand than his more infamous roles. Meanwhile, Estevez brings his signature intensity to a ruthless killer, even as his character is thrust into some genuinely absurd, slapstick situations. Tara Buckman pops up and whilst I was delighted to see her name in the opening credits she has a couple of scenes and feels criminally underused.
What makes Terminal Exposure work is its refusal to rely solely on tired tropes. It maintains a grounded sense of fun without sacrificing the mystery and resists the urge to spill over into teenage comedy. While the film embraces lightheartedness, particularly through Estevez’s unexpected comedic turns, it isn’t afraid to go dark. The tension remains taut, culminating in a shocking, bloody exit for Estevez that is sure to stick with viewers.
Terminal Exposure is a wonderfully charming testament to the power of low-budget genre cinema. When competent direction meets a likable cast and a well-earned sense of mystery, you get something special. For fans of 80s-style thrillers, atmospheric chills, or the unique screen presence of Hope Marie Carlton, this hidden gem is highly recommended.
Easily the best way to see this is on the blu ray included in the Niko Mastorakis collection boxset release by Arrow recently.
In a brand new interview Mastorakis talks about Terminal Exposure and whilst this might be the only extra worth noting, it’s more than I expected to see.
