On Saturday night, I watched Piranha, which featured the great character actor Kevin McCarthy in a supporting role. This led to me remembering McCarthy’s iconic performance in the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers (as well as his cameo in the 70s version). And that led to me remembering a book that I found at Half-Price Books a few years ago.
First published in 1999, They’re Here is a tribute to Invasion of the Body Snatchers, featuring essays about the films and interviews with some of the people involved. For instance, Stephen King and Dean Koontz both write about how seeing the original film influenced their later approach to horror. Jon L. Breen, James Combs, and Fred Blosser write about Jack Finney, the author of the book that served as the basis for the film. Other essays take a look at the remakes that were directed by Philip L. Kaufman and Abel Ferrara. Ferrara is himself interviewed and is as outspoken as ever. Also interviewed is Dana Wynter, who co-starred in the original.
However, the majority of the book is taken up with a terrifically entertaining and informative interview with Kevin McCarthy himself. McCarthy not only talks about filming the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers but also his entire career, his friendship with Montgomery Clift, and his status as pop cultural icon. Sometimes it can be disillusioning to read or listen to an interview in which an icon turns out to be kind of boring (call it the Steven Soderbergh syndrome) but, fortunately, McCarthy comes across as being just as eccentric, intelligent, interesting, and downright lovable as you would hope he would be. Kevin McCarthy, who passed away in 2010 at the age of 96, was one of the great character actors and this interview shows that he was …. wait for it …. quite the character! (Sorry.) The interview is a great tribute not only to McCarthy’s most famous film but also the man himself.
Seriously, if you’re a Body Snatchers fan but just appreciate great character acting, order a copy of this book!
In the small Austrian town of Hoffen, there’s been a murder.
Actually, there’s been more than one murder. Several women have been killed, stabbed to death by what appears to be an ancient dagger. The people of Hoffen are convinced that it’s the result of ancient curse, one that states that every male descendant of the original Baron Von Klaus is destined to become a sadistic murderer. However, there are only two living male descendants. Max Von Klaus (Howard Vernon, at his decadent best) has an alibi. Ludwig (Hugo Blanco) wasn’t even in town. So, if neither Max nor Ludwig committed the murders, then it had to be someone else in town, right?
Or could it be, as the townspeople suspect …. THE ORIGINAL BARON VON KLAUS HAS COME BACK TO LIFE!
Wait …. what? How stupid are these people? I mean, I know that small villages are supposed to be a breeding ground of superstition but it seems kind of obvious that it’s probably just some random human serial killer. Then again, if you believe in a centuries old curse, I guess it’s not that difficult to accept the idea of the dead coming back to life. I mean, it seems pretty stupid to me but what do I know?
While a police detective and a reporter investigate the crimes, Ludwig is shocked to discover that there’s a torture dungeon in the basement of the Von Klaus castle. Ludwig is encouraged to be the first member of the Von Klaus family to find the courage the destroy the dungeon and abandon the castle. Instead, Ludwig finds himself drawn to the dungeon. Will he be able to resist its musty charms or is he destined to become yet another sadistic Baron von Klaus?
Hmmmm …. a violent and loosely-plotted movie that’s set in a small Austrian village, one that opens with a close-up of two hands playing the piano and which features Howard Vernon as a decadent aristocrat. Even if you hadn’t already read the title of the review, the plot description alone should be all you would need to hear to know that The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus was a Jess Franco film.
Before he died in 2013, Spanish director Jess Franco was famous for being one of the most prolific directors around. He’s officially credited with directing 203 films but most sources agree that he was responsible for a lot more. Franco remains something of a controversial figure. Many of his films were bad. Quite a few of them were surprisingly good and atmospheric. Christopher Lee did several films with him and consistently defended Franco as being an intelligent artist who was often forced to work under less-than-perfect conditions. Franco was also a member of Orson Welles’s European entourage, with Franco even doing some second unit work on the sublime Chimes at Midnight. Speaking for myself, I’ve seen plenty of boring Jess Franco films. But I’ve also seen some surprisingly good ones. Female Vampire, Faceless, The Awful Dr. Orloff, Nightmares Come At Night, A Virgin Among the Living Dead, all of them are atmospheric, dream-like exercises in cinematic style.
The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus is middle-of-the road Franco. Despite plot similarities and the presence of Howard Vernon, it’s not as memorable as The Awful Dr. Orloff (which came out the same year) but it’s also clearly put together with more care than some of Franco’s later films. The plot really doesn’t hang together but that’s to be expected from a Franco film. For that matter, way too much time is spent with the police inspector and the journalist. But, visually, the black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous and, as he often did for Franco, Howard Vernon does a great job of epitomizing the decaying aristocracy of Europe. The film is deliberately paced but Franco does do a good job of creating an feeling of impending doom. Each scene seems to be leading towards the discovery of a terrible secret, with Hoffen coming to life as a town fueled by superstition and repressed desires. The scene in which the Von Klaus torture chamber is used is shockingly violent (the film’s title is not kidding about the sadism) but it also highlights the film’s theme about the impossibility of escaping the sins of the past. Considering that this film was made while Europe was still struggling to rebuild after World War II and when General Franco was still in control of Jess Franco’s native Spain, that was probably intentional on the director’s part. The Von Klaus curse stands in for the fear that fascism, dictatorship, and war was always destined to rise again.
The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus is not one of Franco’s better-known films but it is one that shows that Franco could make an effective film when he had the time, the money, and the motivation.
4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.
Since today’s Horror on the Lens was a Dan Curtis film, it only seems appropriate that today’s edition of 4 Shots from 4 Films should be dedicated to one of the most underrated horror directors around, Dan Curtis!
It’s time for….
4 Shots From 4 Dan Curtis Films
House of Dark Shadows (1970, dir by Dan Curtis, DP: Arthur Ornitz)
Night of Dark Shadows (1971, dir by Dan Curtis, DP: Richard Shore)
Trilogy of Terror (1975, dir by Dan Curtis. DP: Paul Lohmann)
Burnt Offerings (1976, dir by Dan Curtis, DP: Jacques R. Marquette)
At the height of the Vietnam War, the U.S. Government came up with a plan that could have changed the course of the war.
What if the government developed gigantic, super-fast, occasionally jumpy piranha? And what if they set those killer fish loose in the rivers of Vietnam? Would those fish swim through North Vietnam and take out the VC? Sadly, the war ended before the government got a chance to test out Operation Razorteeth. With the war over, the government was stuck with a bunch of killer fish. Scientist Robert Hoak (Kevin McCarthy) ignored all orders to destroy his mutant fish because they were his life’s work. (Awwwwwwwww!) He kept an eye on them and did everything he could to prevent them from getting into the nearby river.
Unfortunately, Dr. Hoak’s best wasn’t good enough. Because the piranha have gotten loose and now they’re making their way down to the river! They start out eating skinny dipping teenagers, fisherman, and Keenan Wynn. (They’re good enough not to eat Wynn’s adorable dog, which I appreciated.) Further down the river, there’s a summer camp and a water park! It’s definitely not safe to get back in the water but sadly, that’s what several people insist on doing throughout this film. Even when the water is full of blood, people will jump in. (It’s easy to be judgmental but it is a pretty river. I don’t swim but I honestly wouldn’t mind living near a river that looked that nice. Instead, I have to make due with a creek.)
Floating down the river on a raft and trying to warn everyone is the unlikely team of Maggie (Heather Menzies) and Paul (Bradford Dillman). Maggie is a detective who has come to town to track down the two teenage skinny dippers who were eaten at the start of the film. Paul is a drunk. Well, technically, Paul is a wilderness guide and he does spend the entire movie wearing the type of plaid shirt that would only be worn by someone who goes camping every weekend but really, Paul’s main personality trait seems to be that he enjoys his booze. Paul’s daughter is away at the summer camp. Yes, that’s the same summer camp that’s about to be visited by a school of piranha. AGCK!
Produced by Roger Corman and obviously designed to capitalize on the monster success of Jaws, Piranha was an early directorial credit for Joe Dante. Dante would later go on to direct films like The Howling and Gremlins. Piranha was also an early screenwriting credit for the novelist John Sayles, who would use his paycheck to launch his own directing career. As a director, Sayles specializes in politically-themed ensemble pieces, which is something you might not guess while watching Piranha. (Piranha does have an anti-military subplot but then again, it’s a film from the 70s so of course it does.) Like the best of Corman’s film, Piranha works because it sticks to the basics and it delivers exactly what it promises. Piranha promises killer fish biting away at anyone dumb enough to get in the water and that’s what it gives us. As an added bonus, we also get some occasionally witty dialogue and Joe Dante’s energetic, self-aware direction.
As is typical with the films of both Corman and Dante, the cast is full of familiar faces. Along with Kevin McCarthy as the mad scientist and Keenan Wynn as the eccentric fisherman, Dick Miller shows up as the waterpark owner. Richard Deacon, who made a career of playing bosses and neighbors on various sitcoms in the 50s and 60s, plays the father of a missing teenager. Director Paul Bartel plays the head of the summer camp, who may be a jerk but who still heroically jumps in the water to save several campers. (Bartel’s moment of heroism is one of Piranha’s best scenes and, significantly, it’s played without irony. You’ll want to cheer for the guy.) Finally, the great Barbara Steele plays the government scientist who shows up to clean up Operation Razorteeth.
Piranha is simple but entertaining. Dante’s direction is energetic and, despite the film’s self-referential tone, the killer fish are just savage enough to be scary. It’s a film that tell us not to get back in the water but which understands that the temptation might just be too strong.
Today’s Horror on the Lens is The Norliss Tapes, a 1973 made-for-TV movie that was also a pilot for a television series that, unfortunately, was never put into production.
Reporter David Norliss (Roy Thinnes) has disappeared. His friend and publisher, Stanford Evans (Don Porter), listens to the tapes that Norliss recorded before vanishing. (Stanford Evans, it must be said, is a great name for an editor.) Each tape details yet another paranormal investigation. (Presumably, had the series been picked up, each tape would have been a different episode.) The first tape tells how Norliss investigated the mysterious death of an artist who apparently returned from the grave.
For a made-for-TV movie, The Norliss Tapes is pretty good. It’s full of atmosphere and features a genuinely menaching yellow-eyed zombie monster. The film was directed by Dan Curtis, who was responsible for several made-for-TV horror films and who also created the deathless TV show, Dark Shadows. Curtis also directed a few feature films. Burnt Offerings,for instance, will be forever beloved for its scene of annoying little Lee Montgomery getting crushed by a chimney. If you ever get a chance to listen to the director’s commentary that Dan Curtis recorded for the Burnt Offerings DVD release, you must do so. Curtis comes across as the crankiest man on the planet and it’s actually kind of fascinating to listen to. His irritation when Karen Black keeps asking him if he knows the name of the actor who played the ghostly chauffeur is truly an amazing thing to here. (For the record, the actor’s name was Anthony James, he also had important supporting roles in two best picture winners — In The Heat of the Night and Unforgiven — and yes, he was one of the best things about Burnt Offerings. Karen Black knew what she was talking about.)
But back to The Norliss Tapes!
Admittedly, this is not the first Halloween in which I’ve shared The Norliss Tapes with our readers. Back in 2015, The Norliss Tapes was one of our “horrors on the lens.” Unfortunately, there’s only so many good quality, public domain horror films available on YouTube so, occasionally, a movie is going to show up more than once over the years. But, as long as it’s good film, who cares?
This is from 1966. Unfortunately, the identity of the artist is unknown but I like the combination of cowboys and Dracula. Billy doesn’t look like much of a kid, though. I also like that the poster features the shadow of both Boot Hill and Dracula’s Castle in the lower left-hand corner, bringing to iconic places together for one movie.
Things got a little bit busy here at the Shattered Lens, didn’t they?
Well, it’s to be expected! It’s October and that means that it’s time for our annual Horrorthon! Basically, I spent September resting just so I could make it through this month. (Actually, I spent most of September resting. On September 27th, I posted 18 reviews, just to prove that I still could.) October is totally exhausting but this month, more than anything, reminds me of why I love sharing my thoughts on movies, books, and all the rest. If I can turn you onto a new movie or if I can encourage to give a movie second chance, I feel like I’ve done my work here. We’re only three days in and I already I remember why I love this month, this site, my collaborators, and all of our readers.
Seriously, than you for reading. All of us here at the Shattered Lens hope you enjoy what the site has to offer this October!
Well, it’s been a busy week so let’s get right the recap!
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, dir by Wes Craven, DP: Jacques Haitkin)
Tonight’s episode of Friday the 13th: The Series is a Halloween episode!
For some reason, Ryan and Micki decide that it would be a good idea to throw a Halloween party in a cursed antique store. Unfortunately, their evil Uncle Lewis is determined to return from Hell and what better time to do that than on the greatest holiday of them all!?
This episode is distinguished by the presence of the great character actor R.G. Armstrong, going totally over-the-top as Lewis and having a lot of fun while doing it! Something to keep an eye on during the Halloween party are the costumes. You’ll see a lot of sheets and leotards. You won’t see many familiar characters, largely because it would have cost money to feature any of them. That’s not a complaint, though. Personally, I like it when people make their own Halloween costumes, as opposed to just copying whatever’s popular.
This episode originally aired on October 26th, 1987.
Born in what is now Poland but what was then Germany, the late Ulli Lommel got his start as a frequent collaborator with the enfant terrible of New Wave German cinema, Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Lommel acted in several of Fassbinder’s films and Fassbinder produced Lommel’s third film as a director, the acclaimed The Tenderness of Wolves. In the 70s, Lommel relocated to the United States and, after marrying heiress Suzanna Love, he became a prominent part of the New York City art scene. He hung out with Andy Warhol. He made films about punk rock. He directed three films, Cocaine Cowboys, The Boogeyman, and The Devonsville Terror, that proved that he actually did have some talent when it came to taking on thrillers and horror films.
And then, it all pretty much fell apart. Reportedly, after he and Love divorced, he lost not only his frequent star but also his main financial backer. Lommel spent the rest of his lengthy career directing zero-budget horror films that were best-known for featuring stock footage that was lifted from his previous films. Starting in 2005, he started making direct-to-video movies about real-life serial killers. In interviews, Lommel insisted that his films were not exploitive but that, instead, his serial killer films were meant to offer up a critique of the hypocrisy of American society. And while it’s easy to roll your eyes at Lommel’s claim, I have no doubt that he was being, in his own way, perfectly sincere. His serial killer films are famous for not sticking to the facts but they should be even more famous for their emphasis on alienation and loneliness. All of Lommel’s serial killer films focus on people living on the fringes of society, ignored by those who would rather pretend that they didn’t exist. Lommel consistently portrayed serial killers as being a symptom of a much bigger disease.
Unfortunately, Lommel made his films with very little money and on a very tight shooting schedule. Reportedly, Lommel’s philosophy was to almost always only shoot one take. If someone screwed up a line or if there was a glaring continuity error or if the camera crew briefly appeared in the background, so be it. Indeed, because Lommel’s later films were so deliberately chaotic and semi-improvised, it was often difficult to tell if a continuity error was actually a mistake or something that Lommel deliberately planned.
Sadly, this led to Ulli Lommel getting a reputation for being one of the worst directors of all time. That’s not fair, though. Whatever one might say about his low budgets or his odd style, one cannot deny that Ulli Lommel had a unique vision and that he stuck with it. That’s more than you can see for most bad directors. If nothing else, you’ll never mistake a Ulli Lommel film for being the work of any other director.
Take his 2005 film about the Son of Sam. The film is 80 minutes of David Berkowitz (played by Yogi Joshi) wandering around New York with a confused look on his face. Whenever he sees anyone, a voice commands him to kill while another voice chants “Son of Sam …. Son of Sam.” Meanwhile, there are flashforwards to the recently arrested David Berkowitz, meeting with his public defender and subsequently asking a priest (played by Lommel himself) to exorcise the demons from him. Then there are flashbacks to Berkowitz at some sort of Satanic coven meeting where the high priestess won’t stop laughing. (In typical Lommel fashion, the high priestess is clad in her underwear while everyone else in the cult is dressed in black.) Then, there’s another set of flashbacks to Berkowitz talking to an old woman who may or may not be a part of the cult. Then a dog shows up and gives Berkowitz a meaningful stare.
It’s a mess with no real plot and making it through the entire 80 minutes is a true endurance test. The film not only screws up the facts behind the murders (i.e., the real-life Berkowitz shot people sitting in cars, the film’s Berkowitz shoots a drug dealer standing in a doorway) but it also buys into Berkowitz’s self-serving claim of having been manipulated by a Satanic cult, a claim that falls apart under scrutiny and common sense but which was still recently presented as fact by a Netflix miniseries. We’re told that the film is taking place in the 70s, which is good because, despite the presence of one awkward conversation about going to Studio 54, you’d never know it otherwise.
And yet …. there’s an intensity to Lommel’s vision that I have a hard time totally dismissing. The movie plays out like a fever dream and the visuals are so chaotic and so random and just so weird that it’s hard not to feel that Lommel probably did manage to capture what it was like inside of David Berkowitz’s messed-up head.
Don’t get me wrong. Son of Sam is not a good film. It’s a mess and it’s repetitive nature gets boring fairly quickly. But it’s also hardly the work of the worst director of all time. Instead, it’s uniquely Lommel.
A serial killer is stalking Los Angeles, killing the models who have appeared in an adult magazine. Because they’re not very good at their jobs, neither Sgt. Bobby Colter (Rick Rossovich) nor Detective J.J. Davis (Paul Sorvino!) have come up with any leads that could lead them to the murderer. Facing a dead end, they come up with a brilliant idea. Maybe a cop could go undercover as an erotic model! Fortunately, Bobby just happens to be dating a surprisingly attractive cop named Holly (Courtney Taylor). You have to love it when a plan comes together.
At first, Holly is hesitant but, realizing that there’s no other possible way to get the killer off the streets (because it’s certainly not like Bobby or J.J. could actually do any police work on their own), she agrees to pose for some pictures. Soon, she’s appearing in the magazine, working as a stripper, and discovering that she enjoys her new uninhibited lifestyle. Meanwhile, the killer has noticed her. The killer, by the way, is Dimitri (Stephen Nichols), who frequently disguises himself as a woman and who is driven to kill by his mother. Dimitri’s identity is revealed early on in the film so this doesn’t count as a spoiler. Cover Me is a mystery but it’s a mystery where everyone figures it all out except for the people who are supposed to be figuring it out.
Cover Me was one of the many direct-to-video films that found a home on late night Cinemax in the 90s. These films were advertised as being “erotic thrillers,” though there was usually little about them that was either erotic or thrilling. Cover Me was produced by Playboy and distributed by Paramount, which means that Hugh Hefner probably used to show up on set, wearing his sea captain’s hat and asking the strippers if they wanted to come back to the mansion and help him look for his Viagra. Because it’s a Playboy film, Cover Me has higher production values than the typical 90s erotic thriller but it’s still interesting that a company best known for publishing an adult magazine would produce a film about a killer targeting nude models. In the 70s, Playboy produced things like Roman Polanski’s adaptation of MacBeth, a cinematic triumph regardless of how one feels about Polanski as a human being. By the time the 90s rolled around, they were producing slightly less classy versions of Stripped to Kill.
Still, Cover Me is better than many of the other erotic thrillers that came out during the direct-to-video era. That doesn’t mean that it was a good movie, of course. There’s a reason why “Skinemax” was go-to punchline during the 1990s. As opposed to many of the other movies of the era and the genre, Cover Me has a talented cast that tries to make the best of the material that they’ve been given. I don’t know how Rick Rossovich went from appearing in The Terminator and Top Gun to starring in something like Cover Me but he delivers his lines with a straight face, which could not have always been easy. Paul Sorvino, Elliott Gould, and Corbin Bernsen are also on hand, all playing their parts like pros. (Between L.A. Law and Psych, Bernsen was a mainstay in these type of films, almost always playing either a pimp, a pornographer, or a strip club owner.) Finally, there’s Courtney Taylor, who is actually pretty good in the role of Holly. Though the role really only calls for her to be sexy, Taylor still plays it with a lot of conviction. Taylor’s performance is natural and likable and she sells even the most clichéd dialogue. Just as when she starred in the fourth Prom Night film, Taylor is always better than her material. Unfortunately, Courtney Taylor appears to have stopped acting around 2000.
Cover Me was shot at the same time as an early CD-Rom game called Blue Heat, where I guess the player would step into Holly’s shoes and try to solve the case. Because the company that developed the game went out of business before the game was published, Blue Heat didn’t come out until two years after Cover Me. I’ve never played the game but, from what I’ve read online, it was a point-and-click game where you could go to various places in Los Angeles and search for clues and interrogate suspects. The game came with multiple endings, depending on the decisions you made. Did anyone ever play this game? Let me know in the comments!
As for Cover Me, it’s not great but it’s also not terrible, which is high praise when it come to late night CInemax.
Through the Shattered Lens 