The TSL Grindhouse: Record City (dir by Dennis Steinmetz)


1977’s Record City opens with a montage of rear-focused close-ups of women wearing short shorts and that pretty much tells you all that you really need to know about the film.  It’s crass, shameless, and very much a product of its time.

The film takes place over the course of one day at a California vinyl record shop.  It’s tempting to compare the film to something like Empire Records but, unlike Empire Records, Record City suggests that working in a record store is perhaps the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone.  The store is dirty and grimy.  The customers are rude and played by vaguely familiar comedy actors, all of whom seem to have been bitten by the overacting bug before stepping in front of the camera.  The employees all seem to hate each other.  Marty (Tim Thomerson) keeps getting slapped and kicked by Vivian (Deborah White).  Vivian keeps getting groped by almost every customer and employee who walks by her.  The only thing that Vivian hates more than men is other women.  The store’s owner (Jack Carter) is in trouble with the mob.  The store’s manager (Michael Callan) is lech who wears gold chains, keeps his shirt unbuttoned, and who expects the new cashier, Lorraine (Wendy Schaal), to sleep with him because, after all, he did hire her.  Danny (Dennis Bowen) is the shy guy with a crush on Lorraine.  Rupert (Stuart Goetz) is the nerdy virgin who goes from wearing a bowtie to dressing like a swinger but he still can’t get laid.  Both the customers and the employees are paranoid about “fairies” coming into Record City.  Pokey (Ed Begley, Jr.) wants to hold the place up and who can blame him?  Really, the only likable employee is a black man known only as The Wiz and that’s just because he’s played by Ted Lange.  (Yes, Isaac the Bartender from The Love Boat.)  Lange gets to perform a song at the end of the film.

When the film isn’t focused on the antics inside Record City, it’s all about the talent show that’s taking place in a nearby parking lot.  The talent show is hosted by radio DJ Gordon Kong (Rick Dees) and it gives the film an excuse to trot out a bunch of cameos, some of whom are more recognizable than others.  For instance, Gallagher — the comedian with the sledgehammer — shows up.  Kinky Friedman also shows up, playing himself and looking for records at Record City.  When he spots a woman with a blonde bowl cut and glasses, he accuses her of being John Denver and then grabs her breasts.  And to think — less  than 30 years later, Kinky Friedman would run for governor of my homestate.

Anyway, this is a terrible and rather boring movie but I did find it interesting for one reason.  It’s the reason why I find so many grindhouse films to be interesting.  Shot on location and for no other reason than to make money, Record City is a true product of its time.  There’s no attempt to try to make the 70s look nicer than they were.  There’s no attempt to try to make the record store look like anything more than a tacky establishment.  There’s an honesty to how low-rent the whole thing is.  Watching the movie is like stepping into a time machine and getting a chance to experience the past firsthand.  I was born long after the 70s but, after watching this film, I now feel like I’ve been there.

Review: Thanksgiving (dir. by Eli Roth)


“This year, there will be no leftovers.” — Sheriff Eric Newlon

Thanksgiving (2023) is Eli Roth’s ambitious take on the slasher genre, blending elements of gory horror, dark comedy, and social commentary rooted in the holiday’s American origins. The film follows a masked killer, inspired by the historical Plymouth Colony governor John Carver, who stalks the small town of Plymouth, Massachusetts, weaving a path of violence around the Thanksgiving festivities. The movie opens strongly with a tense, chaotic Black Friday mob scene that effectively captures the frenzy of consumerism and sets a sharp tone of societal critique through horror. However, as the film progresses, it drifts more into a conventional slasher revenge plot that lacks the depth expected from its promising premise.

Visually, Thanksgiving is sharp and well-crafted, abandoning the low-budget aesthetic of Roth’s original 2007 fake trailer and adopting a slick, modern horror style reminiscent of recent elevated slashers. The kills are signature Roth—extremely graphic and creatively brutal—offering plenty of gore that will satisfy fans of extreme slasher violence. The cast delivers solid performances, portraying a range of characters that touch on themes from corporate greed to family tension. While some characters feel underdeveloped, the film does maintain a whodunit element that keeps the mystery alive until the later stages, engaging the audience in the killer’s identity.

The film attempts a tricky balance between paying homage to nostalgic slasher films and delivering dark social satire. This tonal uncertainty emerges as its main weakness; the mix of campy horror and dramatic narrative sometimes feels disconnected and uneven. Although the premise hints at a sharp critique of consumerism and the problematic legacy of Thanksgiving, these themes remain superficially explored. The clashing tones—between over-the-top murder scenes and serious town investigations—can disengage viewers, leading to a jarring experience that affects overall cohesion.

The film leans heavily on extreme violence and a parade of signature kills, but it lacks the sharp wit or cohesive satire needed to maintain sustained interest. It tries to balance being both artful and absurd, yet ends up feeling off-balance and somewhat numbing, stretching a brief satirical concept into a 106-minute feature without clear follow-through or a unified purpose. While it delivers plenty of gore and horror moments, Thanksgiving ultimately falls short of being a polished homage or a compelling modern reinvention of the slasher genre. The result is entertaining mainly for fans who appreciate relentless slasher violence but may leave others feeling the film is uneven and overstuffed without fully satisfying either as a tribute or as a fresh take on the genre.

In terms of entertainment value, Thanksgiving offers a chaotic mix of gore, dark humor, and missed opportunities that make it an uneven but occasionally thrilling watch. It delivers a fresh avalanche of horror and inventive kill sequences packed with kitschy Thanksgiving references and humorous touches, especially in its opening Black Friday massacre. Fans of Eli Roth’s style will recognize his penchant for mixing intense violence with comedic timing, and the film does a respectable job reviving the feel of classic ’80s slashers with a modern twist. However, it’s a film best suited for devotees of graphic slashers rather than casual horror viewers seeking strong narrative or thematic depth.

Ultimately, Thanksgiving stands as a gutsy effort buoyed by bold kills and nostalgic flair, but one that struggles to find a fully satisfying balance between homage, horror, and social commentary. Its impact is intense but uneven, making it a film that may carve out a cult following among gore enthusiasts while leaving others wishing for a sharper, more cohesive final product.

6 Bronsonrific Trailers


Today is Charles Bronson’s birthday!  I sent the trailer kitties out to gather the trailers for this week’s edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Film Trailers with one mission in mind.  Make it Bronsonriffic!  Let’s see how they did!

1) Once Upon A Time In The West (1968)

2) Someone Behind The Door (1970)

3) Death Wish (1974)

4) From Noon Till Three (1976)

5) Telfon (1977)

6) 10 to Midnight (1983)

What do you think, Trailer Kitty?

6 Roger Corman Trailers For Halloween


Happy Halloween!  Today, in order to celebrate, we have a special Roger Corman-themed edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation film trailers!  Here are 6 Roger Corman trailers for Halloween!

1. The Day The World Ended (1955)

2. Bucket of Blood (1959)

3. Little Shop of Horrors (1960)

4. The Terror (1963)

5. The Masque of the Red Death (1964)

6. Frankenstein Unbound (1990)

6 Terrifying Trailers For October 25th, 2025


It’s only 6 days until Halloween!

Are you still struggling to get into the mood?

Don’t you worry!  The latest edition is Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse Trailers is here to help you out!

Presented without comment, here are 6 classic trailers that are guaranteed to get you in the scary season mood….

  1. Carnival of Souls (1962)

2. Night of the Living Dead (1968)

3. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

4. Halloween (1978)

5. Dawn of the Dead (1978)

6. Zombie (1979) (a.k.a. Zombi 2)

What do you think, Trailer Kiity?

I agree!  Those trailers gave us a lot to think about!

The TSL Horror Grindhouse: The Fifth Floor (dir by Howard Avedis)


In 1977’s The Fifth Floor, Dianne Hull plays Kelly McIntyre.

Kelly is a college student by day and a disco dancer by night!  Unfortunately, after someone spikes her drink at the discotheque and she suffers an overdose, she becomes a full-time patient at a mental asylum.  Neither the head doctor (Mel Ferrer) nor the head nurse (Julia Adams, who once swam with The Creature From The Black Lagoon)  believes her claim that her drink was spiked.  Judged to be suicidal and delusional, Kelly is sent to the Fifth Floor!

While her boyfriend (John David Carson) tries to convince the authorities that she’s not insane, Kelly adjusts to life on the Fifth Floor.  She befriend Cathy (Patti D’Arbanville).  She encourages her fellow patients to dance and enjoy themselves.  She tries to escape on multiple occasions.  She draws the unwanted attention of a male orderly named Carl (Bo Hopkins, giving a wonderfully sinister performance).  A sadist equipped with down-home country charm, Carl has got all of his co-workers convinced that he’s a great guy.  The patients, though, know that Carl is a petty authoritarian who enjoys showing off his power.  (“I’m just doing my job,” is the excuse whenever he’s challenged.)  Carl takes an obsessive interest in Kelly and soon, Kelly is not only trying to get her life back but also trying to escape from Carl’s cruel intentions.

Most film directories list The Fifth Floor as being a horror film and certainly, there are elements of the horror genre to be found in the film.  The smooth-talking and nonchalantly cruel Carl is certainly a horrific character and Kelly’s attempts to escape from the asylum capture the very primal fear of not having any control over one’s life.  That said, The Fifth Floor owes greater debt to One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest than to the typical slasher film.  Kelly is a rebel who brings the patients in the ward together.  Much as in Cuckoo’s Nest, the nurses and the orderlies use the threat of electro-shock treatment to keep the patients under control.

It’s not a bad film, though it definitely has its slow spots and I do wish the film had embraced its own sordidness with a bit more style.  I’m a history nerd so I appreciated the fact that The Fifth Floor was so obviously a product of its time.  Any film that features the heroine showing off her disco moves before being taken to a mental hospital is going to hold my interest.  That said, the most interesting thing about the film are some of the familiar faces in the cast.  For instance, Earl Boen — who played so many authority figures over the course of his career and appeared as a psychiatrist in the early Terminator films — plays a patient who wears a NASA jacket.  The always intimidating Anthony James plays the most violent patient.  Michael Berryman and Tracey Walter appear as background patients.

And then you’ve got Robert Englund, cast here as Benny.  Benny is the most gentle of the patients, a prankster who befriends Kelly.  It’s always so interesting to see the type of roles that Englund played before he was cast as Freddy Krueger in A Nightmare On Elm Street.  In this film, Englund is so goofy and friendly that you actually find yourself worrying about something happening to him.  Englund’s role is small but his amiable nerdiness definitely makes an impression.

The Fifth Floor opens and ends with a title card telling us that the film is based on a true story.  Sure, it was.

Blood Mirrors: How I Saw the Devil, Cold Fish, and Revenge Redefine the Horror of Retribution


“Revenge reveals the darkest reflection we hide within.”

Horror cinema has long functioned as a reflective surface, exposing humanity’s deepest fears, desires, and moral uncertainties. The films I Saw the Devil (2010), Cold Fish (2010), and Revenge (2017) serve as “blood mirrors,” revealing not merely the visceral violence inflicted upon their characters but also the profound psychological and ethical transformations that vengeance ignites. Emerging from South Korean, Japanese, and French cinematic traditions, respectively, these works reconceptualize the trauma of retribution into nuanced explorations of identity, power, justice, and morality. This essay unpacks how such acts of revenge fracture and distort the avengers themselves—blurring the boundary between hunter and hunted—and challenge audiences to consider the complicated ethics of vengeance.

Becoming the Monster: I Saw the Devil and the Infinite Cycle of Vengeance

Kim Jee-woon’s I Saw the Devil opens with searing loss. Government agent Kim Soo-hyun’s fiancé is gruesomely murdered by the psychopathic serial killer Jang Kyung-chul. Rather than delivering immediate justice, Kim embarks upon a merciless cycle of capture and release aimed not at ending Kyung-chul’s life but extending his suffering to mirror the anguish Kim feels. This circular vengeance becomes a vehicle for exploring grief’s corrosive power, blurring the avenger’s and victim’s identities.

The film’s structure, with its repetitive cat-and-mouse dynamic, becomes a visual metaphor for obsession and moral degradation. With every brutal encounter, Kim sacrifices more of his humanity, evolving into the very monster he’s vowed to destroy. Lee Mo-gae’s cinematography blends stark clinical detachment with visceral brutality; meticulously framed shots contrast vividly with the film’s emotional chaos, compelling the audience into uncomfortable identification with Kim’s dark crusade. The snowy landscapes and cold colors evoke spiritual desolation, emphasizing the film’s existential chill.

Kim’s work transcends procedural thriller conventions by resisting catharsis—vengeance is portrayed not as liberation but endless torment. Critics laud the film for masterfully challenging traditional revenge narratives by suggesting that acts of retribution can perpetuate cycles of violence, consuming both victim and perpetrator. The tension not only lies in physical danger but in the moral disintegration of a man who becomes what he hates.

Hidden Rage Beneath Ordinary Lives: Social Collapse in Cold Fish

Sion Sono’s Cold Fish presents revenge as an eruption of buried rage within the façade of mundane suburban existence. The gentle tropical fish store owner, Nobuyuki Syamoto, leads a restrained, law-abiding life until meeting the domineering and psychopathic Murata. Their relationship becomes a dance of psychological and physical domination, exposing latent violence simmering under cultural conformity.

Unlike the clinical precision of I Saw the DevilCold Fish captures chaos and collapse. Syamoto’s eventual violent revolt is neither heroic nor cathartic but an enactment of existential despair born of oppressive social codes emphasizing politeness, hierarchy, and silence. The oppressive suburban setting becomes almost a character itself—sterile, suffocating, and emotionally barren. The circling fish motif highlights the recursive cycles of repression and violence that trap the characters.

Sono’s cinematic approach balances absurdist, at times black humor with grim horror. This tonal dissonance destabilizes viewer complacency, forcing reflections on how individual suffering is structured and concealed by social and cultural norms. Syamoto’s dissolution challenges viewers to reconsider traditional narratives of justice and victimhood, emphasizing the fragility of identity under systemic pressures.

From Exploitation to Empowerment: Revenge and the Reclamation of Agency

Coralie Fargeat’s Revenge radically revisits the “rape and revenge” genre notorious since 1970s grindhouse cinema. While drawing inspiration from films like I Spit on Your Grave and The Last House on the LeftRevenge rejects those works’ often exploitative male gaze, recasting the survivor’s story through a fully realized lens of autonomy and violent reclamation.

Jen’s transformation—from a sexualized object within a hyper-saturated, colorful visual palette to a mythic force of nature marked by the symbolic phoenix brand—signifies death and rebirth. Fargeat’s use of chiaroscuro lighting, surreal settings, and visceral violence elevates physical trauma to the level of mythic metamorphosis.

This film subverts traditional victim and villain binaries. Jen’s ascent dismantles deeply embedded patriarchal structures, underscoring a reclamation of body, gaze, and power. The climactic chase, drenched in blood and primal energy, becomes a ritualistic unshackling rather than mere revenge. Through this revival of grindhouse aesthetics, Fargeat forges a new grammar of feminist survival and cinematic empowerment.

Power, Gender, and Hierarchies in Contemporary Revenge Narratives

These films foreground power dynamics traditionally gendered but reinterpreted here in ways promoting gender-neutral critique. In Cold Fish, toxic masculinity manifests as violent domination versus passivity within strict social codes, both Syamoto’s submission and Murata’s cruelty reinforcing systemic violence.

I Saw the Devil portrays injured masculine pride and control as drivers of vengeance. Kim’s obsession symbolizes fragile protector ideals collapsing into moral ruin. Female characters often exist as symbolic voids, underscoring systemic gender violence and erasure.

Revenge, by contrast, deconstructs these codes. Jen transcends rigid gender norms and victimhood, suggesting power as a fluid, elemental force beyond biology. The film’s desert setting serves as a symbolic womb of transformation, projecting possibilities of autonomy and sovereignty through defiance of hierarchical structures.

National Contexts: Morality, Control, and Crisis

Each film emerges from distinct cultural anxieties and historical trajectories. I Saw the Devil reflects South Korean skepticism about institutional justice amid rapid modernization and lingering traditionalism. Private vengeance becomes a desperate, isolating reaction to systemic failure.

Cold Fish critiques a Japanese culture steeped in social conformity and emotional repression, revealing the violent potential beneath controlled civility. The film reflects post-war tensions and growing awareness of societal alienation.

France’s Revenge draws from the New Extremity movement, blending philosophical and visceral approaches to suffering, reflecting intellectual and artistic responses to modern oppression. Fargeat’s fusion of grindhouse with feminist critique signals contemporary cultural struggle for voices outside dominant systems.

Narrative and Visual Style: Diverse Paths to Transformation

The narrative architectures differ but complement one another. I Saw the Devil’s repetitive structure illustrates cyclical moral decay; Cold Fish depicts downward spiral into absurd chaos; Revenge follows mythic death-and-rebirth arc.

Their visual languages communicate complex ethical positions: Kim’s symmetrical, controlled shots reflect calculated cruelty; Sono’s frenetic, disorienting camera work conveys mental disintegration; Fargeat’s vivid, stylized imagery channels surreal transcendence.

Each film implicates the viewer uniquely. I Saw the Devil seduces with calculated violence; Cold Fish overwhelms with chaotic brutality; Revenge reorients the gaze empathetically to survivor experience. Together, they articulate a profound inquiry into horror spectatorship and ethical engagement.

Societal Reflections: Alienation and Moral Fragmentation

These films manifest collective crises of modernity—gendered hierarchies, failed justice, fractured communities—within intimate personal revenge stories. They diagnose alienation and fragmentation, transforming revenge into language for voicing trauma and injustice. This intersection exposes how power, violence, and identity intertwine in contemporary cultural narratives.

The Horror of Becoming

Ultimately, I Saw the DevilCold Fish, and Revenge frame horror as a meditation on transformation rather than pure evil. Vengeance reshapes the self, often toward destruction. Kim becomes the hunted devil; Syamoto lives his oppressor’s violence; Jen transcends human limits through fiery renewal.

Together, they depict revenge as curse, collapse, and painful rebirth—a global meditation on violence and selfhood. Their shared revelation: revenge unmasks the darkness dwelling quietly within us all, proving that horror’s deepest mirror reflects ourselves.

The TSL Horror Grindhouse: The Dunwich Horror (dir by Daniel Haller)


Look at me/I’m Sandra Dee….

First released in the groovy and psychedelic year of 1970, The Dunwich Horror stars Sandra Dee as Nancy, an somewhat innocent grad student at Massachusetts’s Miskatonic University.  When the mysterious Wilbur Wheatley (Dean Stockwell) comes to the university and asks to take a look at a very rare book called The Necronomicon, Nancy agrees.  She does so even though there’s only one edition of The Necronomicon in existence and it’s supposed to be protected at all costs.  Maybe it’s Wilbur’s hypnotic eyes that convince Nancy to allow him to see and manhandle the book.  Prof. Henry Armitage (Ed Begley) is not happy to see Wilbur reading the book and he warns Nancy that the Wheatleys are no good.

Nancy still agrees to give Wilbur a ride back to his hometown of Dunwich.  She finds herself enchanted by the mysterious Wilbur and she’s intrigued as to why so many people in the town seem to hate Wilbur and his father (Sam Jaffe).  Soon, she is staying at Wilbur’s mansion and has apparently forgotten about actually returning to Miskatonic.  She has fallen under Wilbur’s spell and it soon becomes clear that Wilbur has sinister plans of his own.  It’s time to start chanting about the Old Ones and the eldritch powers while naked cultists run along the beach and Nancy writhes on an altar.  We are in Lovecraft county!

Actually, it’s tempting to wonder just how exactly H.P. Lovecraft would have felt about this adaptation of his short story.  On the one hand, it captures the chilly New England atmosphere of Lovecraft’s work and it features references to such Lovecraft mainstays as Miskatonic University, the Necronomicon, and the Old Ones.  As was often the case with Lovecraft’s stories, the main characters are students and academics.  At the same time, this is very much a film of the late 60s/early 70s.  That means that there are random naked hippies, odd camera angles, and frequent use of the zoom lens.  The film makes frequent use of solarization and other psychedelic effects that were all the rage in 1970.  Lovecraft may have been an unconventional thinker but I’m still not sure he would have appreciated seeing his fearsome cult transformed into a bunch of body-painting hippies.

Really, the true pleasure of The Dunwich Horror is watching a very earnest Sandra Dee act opposite a very stoned Dean Stockwell.  Stockwell was a charter member of the Hollywood counterculture, a friend of Dennis Hopper’s who had gone from being a top Hollywood child actor to playing hippie gurus in numerous AIP films.  As for Sandra Dee, one gets the feeling that this film was an attempt to change her square image.  When Wilbur tells Nancy that her nightmares sound like they’re sexual in origin and then explores her feelings about sex, Nancy replies, “I like sex,” and it’s obviously meant to be a moment that will make the audience say, “Hey, she’s one of us!”  But Sandra Dee delivers the line so hesitantly that it actually has the opposite effect.  Stockwell rather smoothely slips into the role of the eccentric Wilbur.  Wilbur is meant to be an outsider and one gets the feeling that’s how Stockwell viewed himself in 1970.  Sandra Dee, meanwhile, seems to be trying really hard to convince the viewer that she’s not the same actress who played Gidget and starred in A Summer Place, even though she clearly is.  It creates an oddly fascinating chemistry between the two of them.  Evil Wilbur actually comes across as being more honest than virtuous Nancy.

Executive produced by Roger Corman, The Dunwich Horror is an undeniably campy film but, if you’re a fan of the early 70s grindhouse and drive-in scene, it’s just silly enough to be entertaining.  Even when the film itself descends into nonsense, Stockwell’s bizarre charisma keeps things watchable and there are a few memorable supporting performances.  (Talia Shire has a small but memorable roll as a nurse.)  It’s a film that stays true to the spirit of Lovecraft, despite all of the hippies.

6 Trailers For October 13th, 2025


For today’s edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse And Exploitation Film Trailers, we share some trailers from the maestro of Italian horror, Mario Bava!

  1. Black Sunday (1960)

After starting his career as a cinematographer and a visual effects engineer, Mario Bava made his directorial debut with 1960’s Black Sunday, starring Barbara Steele!

2. Black Sabbath (1963)

In 1963, Bava directed one of his most popular films, the horror anthology Black Sabbath.  The trailer put the spotlight on the great Boris Karloff.

3. Planet of the Vampires (1965)

One of Bava’s best films, Planet of the Vampires, was later cited by many as an influence on the Alien films.

4. Bay of Blood (1971)

One of the first slasher films, Bay of Blood was also a social satire that featured Bava’s dark sense of humor.

5. The House of Exorcism (1974)

When it was released in the United States, Bava’s Lisa and the Devil was re-titled House of Exorcism and, after new scenes were filmed, sold as a rip-off to The Exorcist.

6. Shock (1977)

Bava’s final film as a director was Shock, which starred Daria Nicolodi as a woman who is being haunted by the ghost of her first husband.

The TSL Horror Grindhouse: The Sadist (dir by James Landis)


1963’s The Sadist opens with three teachers driving to a baseball game.

Ed (Richard Alden), Doris (Helen Hovey), and Carl (Don Russell) are planning on just having a nice night out but their plans change when they have car trouble out in the middle of nowhere.  They pull into a gas station/junkyard that happens to be sitting off the side of the road.  The teachers look for the owner of the gas station or at least someone who works there.  Instead, what they find is Charlie Tibbs (Arch Hall, Jr,) and bis girlfriend, Judy Bradshaw (Marilyn Manning).

Charlie is carrying a gun and he demands that the teachers repair their car and then give it to him so that he and Judy can continue their journey across the country.  Charlie has been switching cars frequently, largely because the cops are looking for him.  That’s because Charlie has been killing people all up and down the highway.  The intellectual teachers find themselves being held hostage by Charlie and Judy, two teenagers who may not be as smart as them but who have the killer instinct that the teachers lack.

It’s interesting to watch The Sadist after watching Eegah!  Arch Hall, Jr. and Marilyn Manning played boyfriend and girlfriend in that one as well but neither Hall nor Manning were particularly credible in their roles.  Hall seems uncomfortable with the whole teen idol angle of his role while Manning seemed a bit too mature for the role of a teenager.  In The Sadist, however, they’re both not only believable but they’re terrifying as well.

Charlie and Judy are almost feral in their ferocity, with both taking a disturbing glee in taunting the teachers.  Charlie kills without blinking and Judy enjoys every minute of it.  It’s easy to imagine Charlie and Judy at a drive-in showing of Eegah!, laughing at the sight of the caveman getting gunned down by the police and never considering that violence in real life is different from killing in the movies.  The teachers discover that it’s impossible to negotiate with Charlie and that Charlie’s promise not to try to kill them if they fix the car is ultimately an empty one.  And yet the teachers, dedicated to education and trying to reach even the most difficult of students, struggle to fight back.  They’re held back by their conscience, something that Charlie does not possess.  It’s intelligence vs instinct and this film suggests that often, intelligence does not win.

It’s a pretty intense and dark film, one that makes great use of that junkyard setting and which is notable for being the first film to feature the cinematography of Vilmos Zsigmond.  For those who appreciate B-movies, it’s memorable for showing that, when he wasn’t being pushed to be a squeaky-clean hero who sang sappy ballads in films directed by his father, Arch Hall, Jr. actually was capable of giving a very good performance.

The Sadist was based on the true-life crimes of Charlie Starkweather and Caryl Ann Fugate.  Interestingly enough, their crimes also inspired Terence Malick’s  Badlands.