The TSL’s Horror Grindhouse: The Flesh and Blood Show (dir by Pete Walker)


I had a few reasons for watching the 1972 slasher film, The Flesh and Blood Show.

First off, the film was directed by Pete Walker.  Though Pete Walker may not be as well-known as some of his contemporaries and his overall cinematic output is dreadfully uneven, he was still responsible for enough memorable films that I will always give him a chance.

Secondly, it’s a British film and the British were responsible for some of the best horror films of the late 60s and early 70s.

Third, speaking as a horror fan, that title is just irresistible.  The Flesh and Blood Show?  Well, there’s nothing subtle about that!  Looking at that title, you find yourself wondering, “How much flesh and how much blood is actually in this film?”

Well, having watched the film, I can tell you that there’s very little blood and a good deal of flesh.  The Flesh and Blood Show was Walker’s first horror film.  Before moving into the horror genre, Walker specialized in making sexploitation movies and it’s kind of obvious that, when he directed this film, he was still more comfortable asking people to undress than asking them to play dead.  As opposed to other slasher films, the majority of the young cast survives and the almost all of the murders occur off-screen.  Every couple of minutes or so, someone else is getting undressed.  The constant nudity actually starts to get pretty funny after a while.  One could very easily use The Flesh and Blood Show to construct a drinking game.

As for the film’s plot, it deals with a group of actors who receive invitations to an abandoned theater.  An unseen producer apparently wants them all to perform an infamous play, perhaps the same play that is rumored to have led to tragedy back in 1945.  If it seems rather odd that the film’s characters would willingly go to an abandoned theater in the middle of nowhere and perform a possibly cursed play, no one is ever going to accuse anyone in this film of being smart.  Why ask why when there’s so much dancing and undressing to do?

There’s also an elderly major (Patrick Barr) hanging out around the theater.  He was actually one of my favorite characters in the movie because he approached everything with this very British, very stiff upper lip attitude.  Of course, the major himself has a secret.  That said, the secret isn’t that surprising.  I figured it out as soon as he showed up.

Naturally, all the murders at the theater are linked back to a tragedy in the past.  The final 15 minutes of the movie are made up of an extensive flashback to that tragedy and I will say this: it’s the best part of the film.  The flashback was originally filmed in 3-D and Walker uses this as an excuse to indulge in some surreal flourishes.

There are a few positive things to be said about The Flesh and Blood Show.  Pete Walker was a talented director and that talent comes through in even his weaker films.  There are a few scenes where Walker manages to maintain a properly ominous atmosphere and the movie’s score is so melodramatic and over the top that it’s kind of hard not to love it.

But, for the most part, The Flesh and Blood Show is a rather forgettable film.  If you want to see a good Pete Walker film, track down Frightmare.

Who Watches The Watchmen: Unlawful Entry (1992, directed by Jonathan Kaplan)


The upscale and complacent life of Michael and Karen Carr (Kurt Russell and Madeleine Stowe) is interrupted one night when a burglar breaks into their home via their skylight.  The intruder briefly holds a knife to Karen’s throat before taking off.  Shaken by the encounter, the Carrs are very happy when a seemingly friendly cop, Officer Pete Davis (Ray Liotta). offers to help them cut through all the red tape and get a security system installed in their house.

At first glance, Pete seems like the perfect cop but actually, he’s a mentally unstable fascist who quickly becomes obsessed with Karen.  When Pete offers Michael his nightstick so that Michael can use it on the man who earlier broke into his house, Michael refuses.  That’s all that Pete needs to see to decide that Michael’s not a real man and that Karen would be better off with him.  Even after Michael orders Pete to stay away from his home, Pete continues to drop by so that he can spy on the couple.  When Michael complains, Pete frames him by planting cocaine at his house.  When Michael says that he’s innocent, no one believes him.  Why would they?  Pete’s a decorated cop who is keeping the streets safe.  Michael is just a homeowner.  While Michael sits in jail, the increasingly violent and unhinged Pete makes plans to make Karen his own.

“Who watches the watchmen?” as the old saying goes.  Unlawful Entry is an efficient and no-nonsense thriller that was ahead of its time as far as its portrayal of a policeman abusing his authority is concerned.  Jonathan Kaplan was trained in the Roger Corman school of filmmaking so he doesn’t waste any time getting to the story and he even finds a role for Dick Miller.  Ray Liotta, fresh off of his performance in Goodfellas, is perfectly cast as the manipulative and misogynistic Pete while Kurt Russell is once again the ideal everyman.  Madeleine Stowe, who was one of the best actresses of the 90s, does not get to do much beyond be menaced but she does it well.  Whatever happened to Madeleine Stowe?  Kurt Russell’s career is still going strong and Ray Liotta still appears regularly in gangster movies and Chantix commercials.  Isn’t it about time for a Madeleine Stowe comeback?

Game Review: Eat Me (2017, Chandler Groover)


Copyright Chandler Groover

Eat Me is both one of the strangest and most delicious text adventures that I’ve ever played.

You are a very hungry child being held captive in a dungeon.  Fortunately, your manacles are very tasty.  For that matter, so is the door to your cell, probably because it’s made out of a cheesecake.  If you want to go for a more minimal meal, the skeleton of the prisoner who was in the cell before you is also available for snacking.  In fact, as the player soon discovers, everything in this dungeon can be eaten.  That includes the doors, the instruments of torture, the bodies of the other prisoners, and the guards.  If you’re going to escape you better start eating.

There are a few things that stand out about Eat Me.  One thing is that the solution to almost every problem is to eat.  Some things are easier to eat than others but eating is always the safest way to go.  The other is that it’s a very well-written game, with very tasty descriptions of each room, each object, each person, and, of course, each bite.  Some of the descriptions are downright tasty while others are not something you should read on a full stomach.  None of the NPCs in the game really want to be eaten but, in the end, it’s either you or them.

For those ready to start their meal, Eat Me can played online here.

Horror Scenes That I Love: Nosferatu on the Death Ship


Since I seem to be in a bit of a vampiric mood tonight, how about a scene from the 1922 classic, Nosferatu, for today’s scene that I love?

This scene features the titular vampire taking over a boat and it proves that movies didn’t need to be scary.

Enjoy!

(As a reminder, if you like this scene, you can watch the whole movie by clicking here!)

Book Review: The Vampyre by John William Polidori


Though The Vampyre was often erroneously attributed to Lord Byron, it was written by John William Polidori

First written way back in 1816, The Vampyre is a story about an amazingly naive young gentleman named Aubrey who becomes friends with the mysterious Lord Ruthven.

Everything about the enigmatic Lord Ruthven would seem to suggest that he’s a vampire but Aubrey never figures that out while he and the nobleman travel across Europe.  Even after an inkeeper’s daughter dies of a vampire attack shortly after telling Aubrey about vampires (and, also, immediately after the sudden arrival of Ruthven), it still doesn’t occur to Aubrey that there might be something strange about Lord Ruthven.  When Lord Ruthven is mortally wounded by bandits, he makes Aubrey swear an oath that he will not tell anyone about Ruthven’s death for a year and a day.  Aubrey promises to keep the oath.

Now, apparently, back in the 19th century, people took those oaths very seriously because, even after Lord Ruthven shows up alive once again and now claiming to be the Earl of Marsden, Aubrey can’t tell anyone that he saw Ruthven die.  Even after Ruthven starts to court Aubrey’s sister with the obvious intention of draining her blood, Aubrey still cannot bring himself to break his oath.  Is it because oaths were really that important or is it that Aubrey himself is as in thrall of Ruthven as his sister?

John William Polidori was a physician and a writer, as well as a contemporary and friend to Mary Shelley, Lord Byron, and Percy Shelley.  The Vampyre was conceived and written as a part of the same contest that saw Mary Shelley write Frankenstein.  Though Polidori’s story is understandably overshadowed by Mary Shelley’s (and, it must be said, Polidori was nowhere near as good a writer as his famous friends), it’s still historically significant as the first “romantic” vampire tale.  It’s the story from which so many others have sprung.

Many have also speculated that the story was based on Polidori’s friendship with Lord Byron, with Polidori represented by the unstable Aubrey while the self-centered but charismatic Lord Ruthven was perhaps meant to be a stand-in for Byron himself.  This may be true or it may not.  (When it comes to Byron, the Shelleys, and Polidori, it’s always perhaps a bit too tempting to read too much between the lines.)

The Vampyre is a historically important piece of work so, if you’re a fan of vampires, you have to read it.  Flaws and all, we owe much to Lord Ruthven and John William Polidori.

 

International Horror Film Review: The Nude Vampire (dir by Jean Rollin)


In the middle of the night, a woman (Christine François), wearing an orange nightgown walks down a dark, Paris street.

She is followed by three men, all of whom are wearing strange, bird-like masks.

The woman turns a corner and runs into Pierre (Olivier Rollin).  Pierre and the woman stare at each other, without saying a word.  Though it may be their first time to meet each other, both their attraction and their bond is instantaneous.

Both Pierre and the woman run down the street.  The men in the marks follow them.

Finally, in a deserted alley, the men corner the woman and Pierre.  Though Pierre escapes, the woman is shot by one of the men and promptly collapses.

The men pick up the woman’s body and carry her to a nearby, gated building.  A bearded doorman lets them through.  Several other people, all wearing tuxedos and fancy gowns, come to the gate and, after showing the doorman their invitation, are allowed to pass through.  Pierre tries to follow but is told that he cannot enter because he has not been invited.

And so begins Jean Rollin’s 1970 film, The Nude Vampire.  This was Rollin’s second film, following the controversial Le Viol du VampireThe Nude Vampire, while once again featuring all of Rollin’s pet obsessions, is still a far more assured piece of filmmaking than Rollin’s first film.  It’s interesting to watch The Nude Vampire directly after Le Viol du Vampire because you can can truly see Rollin developing as a director.  Once again, Rollin is telling an odd story about a frequently disrobed vampire and once again, all of the action leads to the beach.  However, the plot is far easier to follow in The Nude Vampire than in Le Viol du Vampire.  If the first film often seemed to be too indulgent for its own good, The Nude Vampire is just indulgent enough to work.  Of course, as with any Rollin film, your mileage may vary.  What seems rather coherent and almost tame to a Rollin fan may seem like the exact opposite to someone who has never seen a Rollin film before.

As for Pierre, he is determined to figure out what happened to the woman, even though his own father says that it is sometimes best to just leave well enough alone.  After punching out a partygoer and stealing his invitation, Pierre gets into the building and discovers that, despite having been shot in front of him, the woman in the orange nightgown is not dead.  In fact, she doesn’t even appear to be injured.  Instead, she drinks the blood of a party guest who has just committed suicide.  It turns out that the party is actually a cult and they worship the woman.

As if that’s not shocking enough, Pierre discovers that his own father is in charge of the cult!  His father explains that the woman is actually a vampire but that there might be a cure for her condition.  But, in order to cure her, she must be kept safe from the vampires who are trying to capture her….

And that’s not all!  But I won’t share any more of the plot.  I only have limited space here, after all.  The film plays out like a serial, with twists and turns and a lot of scenes involving people being chased from one location to another.  As I mentioned before, it all leads to the beach because this is a Rollin film and Rollin’s vampiric visions always ended with the beach.

As one should always expect from a Jean Rollin film, The Nude Vampire plays out at its own deliberate, dream-like pace.  As a director, Rollin was such a strong visualist that somehow even his film’s lapses in coherence seemed to make a strange sort of sense.  If every movie is a dream then who are we to complain when they employ dream logic?  As with any Rollin film, The Nude Vampire is not for everyone but fans of Rollin’s unique aesthetic will definitely find much to enjoy.

4 Shots From 4 Films: The Blair Witch Project, The Rage: Carrie 2, The Sixth Sense, Stir of Echoes


4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!

This October, we’re using 4 Shots From 4 Films to look at some of the best years that horror has to offer!

4 Shots From 4 1999 Horror Films:

The Blair Witch Project (1999, dir by Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez)

The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999, dir by Katt Shea)

The Sixth Sense (1999, dir by M. Night Shyamalan)

Stir of Echoes (1999, dir by David Koepp)

Great Moments In Television History: Planet of the Apes The TV Series


On September 13th, 1974, audiences that tuned into CBS saw the premiere of a new TV show with a familiar premise.

The episode opened with a spaceship crashing on an Earth-like planet.  One of the astronauts was killed.  Two of the astronauts — Alan Virdon (Ron Harper) and Peter Burke (James Naughton) — survived.  Virdon and Burke discovered that the planet was inhabited by humans who, despite it being the year 3085, were living in medieval villages.  The humans were kept in a state of serfdom by the Apes who ruled the planet.  The Apes spoke English and had formed their own society of militaristic gorillas and scientific-minded chimpanzees.  Looking through an old book, Virdon and Burke discovered that they had crash landed on Earth, far in the future!

You know the drill.  Planet of the Apes was based on the famous series of films, with the first pilot episode featuring Virdon and Burke discovering in less than an hour what took Charlton Heston a journey into the forbidden zone to figure out.  Because the humans had “blown it up,” the Earth was now ruled by Apes!

As fugitives from ape justice, Virdon and Burke spent the next fourteen episodes being pursued by the fanatical General Urko (Mark Lenard), who was determined to capture the two astronauts before they revealed that Apes had not always been the planet’s masters.  Traveling with Virdon and Burke was a sympathetic chimpanzee named Galen (Roddy McDowall).  Usually just one step ahead of Urko, Virdon, Burke, and Galen traveled from village to village, seeking a way to fix their spaceship so that they could escape the Planet of the Apes.

Planet of the Apes got off to a strong start with an exciting and concise first episode but the series quickly ran out of gas.  Because Virdon, Burke, and Galen had to flee to a new village at the end of every episode, the show was never able to devote much time to exploring the most intriguing thing about the original Planet of the Apes films, the culture of a world where humans were subservient to apes.  Because Virdon and Burke were largely interchangeable with little in the way of backstory or personality, the show very quickly ran out of a stories to tell.  It didn’t take long for Planet of the Apes to start repeating itself with multiple episodes in which Virdon or Burke got involved in local village drama before Urko showed up and forced them to flee again.

There were some good moments, though.  Probably the highlight of the series was the third episode of the series, The Trap.  In this episode, Virdon, Burke, Galen, and Urko all reach the ruins of San Francisco at the same time.  After an earthquake buries Burke and Urko in a subway tunnel, the two of them are forced to work together to survive.  Burke and Urko make an unexpectedly good team and Urko seems like he’s on the verge of a change of heart when he spots an old poster for the San Francisco zoo, one that features a caged gorilla being gawked at by humans.  Urko’s angry reaction to seeing the poster is well-acted by Mark Lenard and, for a few minutes, his obsession with capturing Virdon and Burke can be understood.  It wouldn’t last but, in that moment, Urko went from being just another villain to being a complex character with his own clearly defined motivations.

The show also benefited from Roddy McDowall, who, by this point, was an expert at acting while wearing chimpanzee makeup.  McDowall brought heart and humor to the role of Galen, even if he was too often treated like a servant by Burke and Virdon.  Whenever the two humans were scared to go out in public, they sent Galen off to gather information.  Galen did a good job but he still deserved better.

Finally, Planet of the Apes had one of the coolest opening title sequences of all time!  Take a look:

Though cancelled after only 14 episodes, Planet of the Apes The Television Series lives on.  Episodes can currently be seen on MeTV.

Horror Film Review: The Hunger (dir by Tony Scott)


“Bela Lugosi’s dead….” Peter Murphy sings at the start of 1983’s The Hunger and, in the case of this film, it’s as much of a challenge as a tribute.

Bela Lugosi and Dracula are gone, the film announces, and so is the old-fashioned vampire movie.  Here’s a new look at an old favorite….

Of course, seen today, The Hunger doesn’t seem new.  Since The Hunger‘s release, there’s been  a countless number of films in which vampires have been decadent and chic aristocrats, hanging out in dark nightclubs and looking at the world with ennui-stricken eyes.  By today’s standards, the stylish decadence of The Hunger can seem almost quaint.  Much like Paul Schrader’s remake of Cat People, The Hunger is such a film of the 80s that you half-expect someone to offer you a line coke while you’re watching it.  Also, like Cat People, it’s such a glorious tribute to excess that there’s no way you can’t watch it once it starts.  It’s hypnotic in its excess.

In The Hunger, our vampires are Miriam Blaylock (Catherine Deneuve) and her lover, John (David Bowie).  Miriam has been a vampire since at least the time of the ancient Egyptians.  Rather than sinking her fangs into the necks of her victims, Miriam uses an Ankh pendant to slit their throats.  John was once a cellist in 18th century France.  Now, they live in an expensive New York townhouse, where they teach classical music and occasionally murder anyone that they can convince to come up to see them.

When they first met, Miriam promised John that he would have eternal life but she didn’t promise him eternal youth.  Unfortunately, it takes 200 years for John to notice.  When he starts to rapidly age, he seeks out aging expert Dr. Sarah Roberts (Susan Sarandon) for help.  Though Dr. Roberts is originally dismissive of his claims, she is shocked to see John age several years in just an hour.

When an angry and desperate John kills the music student (Beth Ehlers) that Miriam was hoping to transform into her next lover, Miriam is forced to search elsewhere.  When Sarah shows up, searching for the man who aged years in an hour, Miriam feels that her search may be over.

As one might expect from a film directed by Tony Scott, The Hunger is an extremely stylish film, to the extent that the film’s story is often secondary to the way that Scott chooses to tell it.  The set design is so ornate and every scene is so precisely lit and shot and that, at times, the movie feels a bit like a commercial for vampirism.  It’s easy to imagine Britney Spears singing “Work Bitch” in the background of some of the scenes.  (“You want a hot body?  You want a Bugatti?  You Want a Maserati?  You better work vamp.”)  Throughout the film, New York glows like a neon wonderland while John and Miriam coolly look out over the world like 18th century French aristocrats who have no idea that they have a future date with the guillotine.  At times, it’s a film that becomes almost ludicrous in its celebration of grandeur and style.  One could imagine Jean Rollin telling the same story just as effectively while spending a lot less money.

And yet, it’s that very embrace of the over-the-top ludicrousness of it all that makes The Hunger a memorable film.  The film’s a tribute to excess, with an ending that falters precisely because it attempts to reject precisely what it’s spent the past hour and a half celebrating.  The Hunger doesn’t add up too much but its hypnotically stylish and well-acted by a cast who does their best to keep up with Tony Scott’s camera.

 

Horror on the Lens: The Lodger (dir by Alfred Hitchcock)


A serial killer known as “The Avenger” is murdering blonde women in London (which, once again, proves that its better to be a redhead).  And while nobody knows the identity of the Avenger, they do know that the enigmatic stranger  (Ivor Novello), who has just recently rented a room at boarding house, happens to fit his description.  They also know that the lodger’s landlord’s daughter happens to be a blonde…

Released in 1927, the silent The Lodger was Alfred Hitchcock’s third film but, according to the director, this was the first true “Hitchcock film.”  Certainly it shows that even at the start of his career, Hitchcock’s famous obsessions were already present — the stranger accused of a crime, the blonde victims, and the link between sex and violence.

Also of note, the credited assistant director — Alma Reville — would become Alma Hitchcock shortly before The Lodger was released.