It Came From The Public Domain: Indestructible Man (dir by Jack Pollexfen)

Posted on August 14, 2013 by Lisa Marie Bowman

(SPOILERS BELOW)

First released in 1956, Indestructible Man is a low-budget B-movie that, as a result of being in the public domain, has been released on DVD by several different companies and seems to be included in just about every other compilation box set released by the folks at Mill Creek. Perhaps because it stars Lon Chaney, Jr., it also seems to turn up on TCM fairly regularly. That’s how I first saw it.

Whenever anyone mentions the film Indestructible Man to me, I always think about … well, actually no one ever mentions Indestructible Man to me. But if they did, I would probably always remember one scene in particular. It comes towards the end of the film. Detective Dick Chasen (Max Showalter) has managed to solve the mystery of the Indestructible Man. He celebrates by going out with his new girlfriend, a burlesque dancer played by Marian Carr. Sitting there in the car, illuminated by the romantic glow of the moon, Detective Chasen informs her that he’s gotten her fired from her job because she’s going to be way too busy being his wife to have a career. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t say no!” his girlfriend responds.

Don’t believe me? Watch for yourself. From Indestructible Man, here’s one of the most sexist scenes in film history…

Up until that ending, Indestructible Man tells the story of Charles “Butcher” Benson (Lon Chaney, Jr). As you might guess from his nickname, Butcher isn’t a nice guy. In fact, he’s a career criminal who is sitting on death row in California. He’s been double-crossed by his criminal partners (who include both a lawyer and a guy named Squeamy, so you know they’re bad) and, from his prison cell, he swears that he will have his revenge.

And then he’s promptly executed.

However, his body is donated to science. Scientist Robert Shaye is investigating whether or not massive electrical shock can be utilized to cure cancer. When he and his assistant (Joe Flynn) shock the Butcher’s corpse, the Butcher comes back to life and starts to wander around the laboratory. Shaye attempts to give him a shot but the hypodermic needle snaps when pressed against the Butcher’s skin. The Butcher proceeds to strangle both the scientist and his assistant…

What’s going on? Well, fortunately, this film is narrated by Detective Dick Chasen (and yes, that is the character’s name and that’s all I’m going to say about it). Dick Chasen explains to us that 1) the electrical shock fried Butcher’s vocal chords and rendered him mute and that 2) the shock caused Butcher’s cells to multiply at such a rate that he is now …. INDESTRUCTIBLE!

Anyway, Butcher proceeds to spend the rest of the movie tracking down and murdering his former criminal associates. Even before you reach the most sexist ending in the history of American cinema, it’s all rather silly. It’s also rather slow. The film lasts 70 minutes and I would say that 20 of those minutes consist of pure padding.

However, as often happened with B-movies, the low budget occasionally works to the film’s advantage. The flat black-and-white and the stark sets may have been an unintentional consequence of economic reality but, at the same time, they give the film a much needed edge.

Much as the low budget accidentally worked to the film’s advantage, so to did the personal demons of Lon Chaney, Jr. contribute to making him into a surprisingly effective and disturbingly believable killer. Though he’s best remembered for playing the handsome and soulful Larry Talbot in the original Wolf Man, by the time Lon Chaney, Jr. made Indestructible Man, years of drinking, smoking, and self-destructive behavior had caught up with the former matinée idol. Chaney’s ravaged face, marked by deep lines and sporting a permanently grim expression, makes him perfect for this role. The highest praise that I can pay to Chaney’s performance is that you look at him and you truly believe that his character would be nicknamed Butcher.

As I stated at the start of this review, Indestructible Man is in the public domain and it’s fairly easy to track down. For that matter, you can always watch it below.

And just remember … you’re not supposed to say no to a detective…

Grindhouse Classics : “Pick-Up”

Posted on April 26, 2013 by Ryan C. (fourcolorapocalypse)

One word that doesn’t usually (if ever) come to mind when you’re talking about the drive-in fare churned out by Crown International Pictures in the 1970s is weird.

Yeah, okay, fair enough — I suppose just about any CIP flick looks a little bit “weird” to a contemporary audience, given that they’re all very much products of their time, but honestly, pretty much everything released under their banner boils down, story-wise, to a simple morality play with a generous helping of sex (always) and violence (sometimes) thrown in — and more often than not, as with most exploitation fare, the most common themes in the Crown back catalog are “don’t set your sights above your station in life” and “don’t talk to strangers.”

At first glance, 1975’s Pick-Up, directed (and produced, and shot, and edited) by Bernard Hirschenson, would appear to fit comfortably into the “don;t talk to strangers” category, since it’s the story of two footloose-and-fancy-free hippie chicks named Carol (Jill Senter) and Maureen (Gini Eastwood — no relation, at least that I know of, to you-know-who), who hitch a ride across Florida with a far-out guy named Chuck (Alan Long) who is, like them, at loose ends and just “taking in what the world has to offer, one day at a time, man” in his fuck-pad RV.

Come on — he’s gotta be trouble, right? I mean, he’s an Aries, and according to the supposedly-metaphysically-tuned-in Maureen, Aries guys are bad news these days because of some state of flux going on in the universe or something. Still, the girls hop in for a ride anyway —

Trouble eventually does come their way, but Chuck isn’t the cause. After a deluge, the RV gets stuck in the Everglades mud, and that’s when things, as I promised at the outset, get weird. Chuck and Carol get busy screwing their brains out, but Maureen in between reading star charts and tarot cards and having waking (and sleeping) visions of her childhood, is visited by Pythia, a priestess of Apollo, who gives her a sacred dagger for some reason or other. And if you think that sounds strange, wait until the slimy politician and latex-faced clown show up.

Okay, yeah, none of this makes a tremendous amount of narrative sense — or even common sense — but it sure is interesting. It turns out that Maureen was molested by a priest as a child (guess they were into girls in the ’70s) and this is at the root of her psychological disturbances, which culminate in quite possibly the most bizarre scene (of many contenders) in the film, where she and Chuck finally “make it” on a stone altar with the clown, the politician, and the priestess watching on. And all this right after Chuck kills a wild boar (be warned, this film does feature genuine animal slaughter, although hardly of Cannibal Holocaust proportions) What does it all mean? Who knows. And honestly, who really cares? Pick-Up was clearly made with the stoner crowd in mind and, frankly, was probably made by members of the stoner crowd, as well. It’s all good, man. Just go with the flow.

There are some notable things to point out in relation to this film while we have a moment — the Florida Everglades locations are authentic, and were probably an absolute bitch to film in (good thing everybody was probably high), and both Senter and Eastwood are not only reasonably talented actresses, but absolutely gorgeous, as well — yet neight ever made another film. Go figure.

Like most of the Crown stuff we’ve covered both here and at my “main” site — http://trashfilmguru.wordpress.com , for those of you who don’t know — Pick-Up is available on Mill Creek’s 12-disc, 32-movie “Drive-In Cult Classics” DVD boxed set collection. There are no extras, but the remastered widescreen transfer looks surprisingly crisp and clean and the mono sound is, at the very least, perfectly adequate. This may not be the best film in the collection by any stretch, nor is it the most fun, but it’s definitely one of the most interesting, and it’s well worth the 80 minutes of your life it takes to watch it.

Enough With The “Bates Motel” Stuff Around Here, How About Some “Mayhem Motel” ?

Posted on April 24, 2013 by Ryan C. (fourcolorapocalypse)

Don’t get me wrong, folks — by and large I kinda like Bates Motel, and I certainly enjoy reading Lisa Marie’s write-ups on each episode here on TSSL, but let’s not kid ourselves —- that show is a soap opera less- than- cleverly-concealed beneath some standard horror genre trappings. You can, of course, say the same for The Walking Dead, another show which I also dig for the most part, but it’s high time we stopped pretending either of these were anything but — well, crap. Enjoyable crap, sure, but crap nonetheless. And I’m certainly not above enjoyin’ me some crap.

Writer/director Karl Kempter’s 2001 shot-on-video offering Mayhem Motel, for instance. This is most definitely crap — hell, it’s even weird crap, disgusting crap, nauseating crap (less than five minutes into the proceedings a character billed in the credits as “Pukey” throws up in a bathtub — for real — and then proceeds to sit down in his own regurgitated mess), but then, it never pretends to be anything else. There are no affectations here toward “quality character drama,” Kempter isn’t fooling himself that his film has anything “important” to say, and in fact there’s no real story here to speak of at all, just a series of vignettes centered around a bunch of degenerate fuckwads and various other products of the gene pool’s decidedly shallow end who all happen to be staying (perhaps at the same time, perhaps not — it’s never made clear and frankly doesn’t matter anyway) at the same fleabag motel.

I don’t know about you, but I find that refreshing lack of anything even remotely approaching an agenda to be a strangely noble thing.

It also means that Mayhem Motel is both a difficult movie to explain, and an easy one to review — plot recaps are completely unnecessary since there literally is no plot, but at the same time simply saying “you’ve really just gotta see it and decided for yourself” sounds like something of a cop-out, even though — well, you really do just gotta see it and decide for yourself. There’s definitely not much of anything resembling a “point” to be taken away from this at-times-self-consciously-weird-for-its-own-sake string of mish-mashed, completely unrelated events — apart from maybe some vague overall suggestion that sex with strangers can get ya killed — and most (okay, all) of the scenes seem more designed to provoke some sort of visceral reaction (even if it’s only “okay, what exactly was that all about?”) from the audience rather than actually involving you in them, but what the hell — it certainly makes for a one-of-a-kind 70-minute viewing experience.

What I can’t say with any certainty, however, is whether or not it’s actually a good one — that’s up to you. The movie’s a mass of contradictions — I mentioned that’s it’s both unpretentious and self-consciously-weird-for-its-own-sake, and trust me, both are true — but the acting (roughly half the parts are played by a guy named Matthew Biancaniello, the other almost-half by a woman named Sara Berkowitz) is of a generally high standard for this type of production (i.e. one shot for a reported $22,000), the lighting is uniformly interesting (if not uniformly effective), and in between the midget, the floating plastic Easter eggs, the guy with a tracheotomy, and the blow-up rubber fuck doll, Kempter really does succeed in creating both a sleazy and genuinely otherworldly atmosphere here. And besides, we ll know that most people will do just about anything for money, but seeing what they’re willing to do for no money is so much more interesting.

So yeah — it’s fair to say that Mayhem Motel does what it sets out to do, I just can’t say whether or not what it sets out to do is really worth doing. That’s a purely subjective call, and while I enjoyed it for what it was, I can certainly see why some folks might turn this off a few minutes after the opening credits. I’m not prepared to say this is one of those things you’re either gonna absolutely love or absolutely hate — like, say, White Castle hamburgers — since I don’t see it as being able to elicit strong reactions along either of the emotional poles like that, but you’re either gonna find it interesting or completely pointless.

Or, perhaps, both interesting and completely pointless.

Mayhem Motel is available on DVD either as a stand-alone release from Brain Damage films (I can’t speak to its technical specs or any extras on that version as I haven’t seen it), or as part of the “Decrepit Crypt Of Nightmares” 50-film, 12-disc box set from Pendulum Pictures, the Mill Creek sub-label that specializes in zero-budget indie and homemade horror. That’s how I caught it and it’s presented full-frame with fairly lousy stereo sound (something of a surprise since Kempter apparently makes his living as a sound mixing guy on various other projects) and no special features or other frills of any sort. Considering the whole package retails for no more than twenty bucks, whaddaya want, anyway? I’d say give it a go if you’re feeling adventurous — beyond that, you’re on your own.

Tag It And Bag It : “Toe Tags”

Posted on February 16, 2013 by Ryan C. (fourcolorapocalypse)

A few weeks back, Lisa Marie blamed/credited me for the fact that she even watched, let alone reviewed, director/star/editor/cinematographer Darla Enlow’s 2003 shot-on-video, direct-to-DVD 68-minute opus Toe Tags, so I’m returning the — ahem! — favor by blaming/crediting her for the fact that I’m gonna do the same thing (well, I say “gonna do” only as it applies to reviewing this flick, since I first watched it several months ago, then gave it a second look last night). See, I kinda think it would be amusing to make Through The Shattered Lens the only site on the entire internet with two different reviews of this movie. Granted, I haven’t checked every single website in the entire universe to make sure this claim holds water, but it’s a pretty safe bet, since I doubt that more than a few hundred people have even seen this thing — and most of them were probably either friends with, or related to, somebody who had something to do with its production.

Shot for around $30,000 in Tulsa, Oklahoma — where SOV slashers got their start with Blood Cult way back in 1985 — the “action” in this film centers around a series of murders at the supposedly high-end Valley Creek apartment complex, where the dynamic police duo of Detectives Mark Weiss (Marc Page) and Kate Wagner (Enlow) are investigating a grisly series of slayings, with a twist — every corpse that comes into the morgue by way of Valley Creek ends up with its titular toe tag going missing somewhere along the way.

One thing that really stands out here : the movie was quite obviously all shot in the same apartment complex, with one notable exception —- it’s evident that the landlady’s supposed “apartment” is actually an honest-to-God house and is located elsewhere. So that leaves us with a rather incongruous bit of easily-noticeable movie less-than-magic — while the “police station” where a good chunk of this story takes place is almost without question an office in an apartment complex, the supposed headquarters of the actual apartment complex is not in the apartment complex! Hey, when ya only got 30 grand ta play around with, ya do what ya can.

Enlow doesn’t have much eye for style or perspective when it comes to the camera work, but I do give her points for at least trying to do something more other than simple point-and-shoot stuff, even if her attempts are largely failures, and she’s definitely to be lauded for managing to convince a steady stream of generally pretty attractive women to drop their tops in front of her camera for probably little to no money, but beyond that Toe Tags doesn’t really stand out in any way, shape, or form. The script, by one John Overbey (about the only thing Enlow didn’t do herself when it comes to this flick is write it), takes a pretty straightforward story and messes it up by heaping a bunch of ex-love-interest drama on both of the cops (it turns out they had both been sleeping with separate victims of the killer previously — and Kate makes it clear to Mark that she’s fair game if he feels like taking a crack at her during their off-hours) and having some seriously unconventional, if not downright illegal, police procedural shit towards the end when the captain thinks he’s got the identity of the murderer sussed out, so be prepared to suspend your disbelief beyond its usual, already-stretched-thin levels for this one. As for the “twist” finale, well — you’ll not only see it coming a mile away, but it’s waving its arms in the air, wearing a helmet with a flashing light on it, and setting off road flares.

On the splatter front (hey, admit it, that’s pretty much what you’re watching a movie like this for, apart from the tits), Enlow and her shoestring crew do a pretty nice job with the gore EFX all told, and considering the whole thing runs barely over an hour, the body count is fairly impressive. My best guess is that most of the budget for this one was consumed in an effort to make the numerous murders look reasonably realistic, and by and large it pays off, so hey — credit where it’s due.

Toe Tags is available either as a stand-alone DVD from Brain Damage Films (as pictured at the outset of this review), which probably contains a fair amount of extras (assuming you actually want to know more about how this was made), or you can see it like I did, as part of the “Crazed Killers” six-movie, two-disc set from Mill Creek’s sub-label specializing in microbudget/ homemade horrors, Pendulum Pictures. It’s presented full frame with stereo sound, both of which are unspectacular but perfectly adequate considering (which probably isn’t such a bad overall description of the film itself).

The folks who made Toe Tags obviously had a pretty good time with the whole thing, at least if the rather self-indulgent little “blooper reel” that plays during the end credits is any indication (without it the film would clock in under an hour), and I’m glad they enjoyed themselves — I just wish I had as much fun watching it as they did acting in, shooting, and directing it. I’ve certainly seen far worse fare on these Pendulum compilation discs, but often the clunkers are so bad as to be truly memorable, even if for all the wrong reasons. This one just kind of comes on your screen, tries to do its job, and calls it a day. It doesn’t make a mess of you home while it’s in it (like, say, its disc-mate Las Vegas Bloodbath), but it’s not the kind of interesting, unpredictable guest you’re likely to invite around again.

I appreciate all the effort and energy Enlow put into just getting this thing made, and she’s certainly to be commended for that alone as well as for busting her tail to make the financial pittance she had to work with go farther than it probably had any right to, but at the end of the day, the Toe Tags title is an appropriate one — this flick is dead on arrival.

Oh my God! 6 More Chilling Classics: The Cold, Dr. Tarr’s Torture Dungeon, The Legend of Big Foot, Oasis of the Zombies, Slashed Dreams, and Track of the Moon Beast

Posted on May 26, 2012 by Lisa Marie Bowman

It’s a lonely Saturday here at the TSL Bunker. Leonard Wilson is at a theater in the city, watching Chernobyl Diaries. My sister, the Dazzling Erin, has abandoned me to go shopping for ingredients so she can make something later tonight for our family’s annual memorial day get together tomorrow and our cat, Doc, is too busy sleeping at the foot of my bed to pay much attention to me Probably even as I sit here typing this, Leon the Duke is watching season 3 of Lost and how I envy him! The Trash Film Guru has escaped to the grindhouse. Necromoonyeti is discovering new music, Pantsukudasai is undoubtedly meeting with his enigmatic anime connection, Semtex Skittle is playing Diablo Something-Or-Another, and SenorGeekus is off spreading the gospel of Jack Kirby. Even Arleigh is off somewhere else, watching a war movie no doubt.

Yes, I’ve been left here alone in my section of the Bunker, which I’ve decorated by utilizing a combination of Catholic iconography, Hello Kitty, and pink wallpaper. I should be working on getting caught up because I am running behind on meeting my quota for the month. However, instead of writing about what’s currently playing in a theater near you, I find myself once again distracted by my continuing mission to watch and review every single film included in Mill Creek’s 50 Chilling Classics Boxset. Fortunately, I’m happiest when I have a mission. Here are reviews of 6 more of the Chilling Classics that I’ve sat through.

The Cold (dir by Bill Rebane)

First released in 1984, The Cold is yet another odd little morality tale from Wisconsin-based filmmaker Bill Rebane. Three mysterious millionaires invite nine people (and just try to keep them all straight) to a secluded mansion that looks suspiciously like an EconoLodge. The nine guests are informed that if they spend a few nights at the “mansion” and face their greatest fears, they’ll win a million dollars. Of course, everyone agrees to do that but how could they have imagined that their fears would include a giant spider that shows up in soup bowl, a shark that shows up in a swimming pool (Agck! That would be my fear right there), rats, and people who wander around hallways while wearing white sheets. Of course, it all ends with a twist that you’ve already guessed and then the film introduces another twist that you’ve already guessed.

This is the third Rebane film that I’ve come across in the Chilling Classic Boxset (the previous two being The Alpha Incident and The Demons of Ludlow). Rebane is one of those odd directors whose uneven films are genuinely inept and yet occasionally show a flash of equally genuine imagination. The Cold is a complete and total mess that features bad acting (after 5 minutes, I’d had enough of the slow-witted girl with the bad Southern accent), bad dialogue (“You can’t come in here. I’m nude.” “Don’t worry, I’ve had a vasectomy”), and a truly incoherent style of editing. Rebane punctuates the action by including random snatches of old timey music and boy did that get irritating fast. And yet, once you start watching, it’s impossible to look away. You simply have to watch to convince yourself that what you’re seeing isn’t just a dream. Plus, the film includes not only an endless disco sequence but a narrator who admits that he can’t really follow the story either.

Dr. Tarr’s Torture Dungeon (dir by Juan Lopez Moctezuma)

This Mexican film from 1972 is based on an Edgar Allan Poe short story and, despite the poor picture quality that we’ve come to expect from anything put out by Mill Creek, it is one of the most visually interesting films to be found in the Chilling Classics boxset. A newspaper reporter visits a sanitarium in order to investigate the revolutionary form of therapy practiced by Dr. Maillard (Claudio Brook). As Maillard explains (and sh0ws), the inmates are essentially allowed to roam freely through the asylum and live under whatever delusions make them happiest. However, it quickly becomes obvious that Dr. Maillard is insane himself and his asylum is part of a bigger plot to rule the world. The plot makes little sense and it quickly becomes pretty clear that it’s not meant too. Director Juan Louis Moctezuma was a collaborator of the famed surrealist Alejandro Jadorowsky and it quickly becomes obvious that he’s more interested in putting as many odd and surreal images on-screen as possible and, on that level, he succeeds. For whatever the film’s narrative failings, it’s fascinating to just sit and look at some of the images that appear on-screen. Claudio Brook gives a wonderfully over-the-top performance that perfectly compliments the film’s visuals.

The Legend of Big Foot (dir by Harry Winer)

In this documentary from 1976, a wildlife expert named Ivan Marx rambles on and on about Big Foot while unrelated stock footage plays out on-screen. It’s just as exciting as it sounds. Seriously, I try to make it a point to stick with any film I start watching, no matter how boring it may turn out to be, but the Legend of Big Foot severely tested my patience. Some of the animals in the stock footage are cute, though. Regardless of what he may be discussing at any particular moment during the film, Marx delivers his narration in the most dramatic way possible and that provides a few laughs as well.

Oasis of the Zombies (dir. by Jess Franco)

In this 1981 Eurocine film, a group of unlikable people come across a lost Nazi treasure in the middle of the African desert. Unfortunately for them, the Nazis are still there, standing guard. Of course, the Nazis have now all been transformed into zombies! As far as Nazi zombie films are concerned, Oasis of the Zombies isn’t as scary as Shock Waves and it’s not as much fun as Zombie Lake. What it is, however, is a Jess Franco film which means that the film features actors in tacky outfits, poorly dubbed dialogue, a zoom lens that just won’t quit, and a few oddly surreal (and occasionally nightmarish) visuals. This is really a pretty shoddy film but it’s enjoyable if you’re a fan of Franco’s “unique” style of filmmaking.

Slashed Dreams (dir. by James Polaskof)

This film was originally released in 1974, under the title Sunburst. It was obviously not meant to be a horror film (though it was clearly meant to appeal to the exploitation market) but instead, it was a painfully sincere, annoyingly naive, and, ultimately, rather offensive attempt to make an important statement about the need to drop out of society and “do your own thing.” However, Robert Englund shows up for the film’s final 10 minutes so, at some point in the 80s, Sunburst was re-released, retitled, and resold as a horror film.

Anyway, this 74 minute film is about two perky and attractive college students (Peter Hooten and Katharine Baumann, both of whom give good performances) who decided to go visit their first Michael who has dropped out of society and is currently living in a cabin out in the middle of the woods. The majority of the film is an endless montage of scenes of Hooten and Baumann hiking through the wilderness while a singer named Roberta Van Dere warbles away on the soundtrack, singing some of the most annoyingly 70s folk songs ever written. I’m sad to say that I got one of them, Animals Are Clumsy Too, stuck in my head. Once they finally reach the cabin, they discover that Michael is off wandering about. They decide to wait around for Michael to show up which leads to them being spotted by two inbred hicks who proceed to rape Baumann before running off. The next morning, Michael shows up and hey, he’s Robert Englund! Michael hears what has happened and, instead of going to the police or, at the very least, getting Baumann to a hospital, he tells her that she just needs to “push the demons out” and get on with living. Which, by the way, is complete bullshit. It’s one thing to discover strength you previously didn’t realize you had as the result of something terrible, it’s another thing to seriously expect a woman to shrug it off after a day or two or to consider rape to be a character-building exercise as this film seems to. Say what you will about I Spit On Your Grave, at least that film understood that rape is an unforgivable violation and more than just a bad thing that might happen in the woods. I swear, just when I think that I can’t hate the late 60s and early 70s anymore than I already do, I see a film like this.

Track of the Moon Beast (dir. by Dick Ashe)

When it comes to bad movies from the 70s, I prefer the likes of 1976’s Track of the Moonbeast to Sunburst/Slashed Dreams. This films takes place in New Mexico and tells the story of Paul (Chase Cordel), a slow-talking mineralogist who gets a chunk of moon rock lodged into his brain. As a result, he turns into a gigantic lizard and goes around killing people. His only hope appears to be his old friend, the stoic Profession Johnny Longbow (Gregorio Sala) who knows all sorts of indian lore. He also knows how to make stew and early on in the film, he gives a world-weary monologue about what ingredients he puts in his stew. (Onions, mostly). Anyway, this is an awful, awful film that’s full of bad acting, bad special effects, and dumb dialogue. It’s also a lot of fun and it features the guy pictured below singing a song called California Lady that got stuck in my head almost as quickly as Animals Are Clumsy Too. I loved Track of the Moon Beast.

So, out of these six, I would definitely recommend Track of the Moon Beast and Dr. Tarr’s Torture Dungeon. The Cold and Oasis of the Zombies should be watched only by people who are already familiar with the work of Bill Rebane and Jess Franco. Legend of Big Foot might be amusing if you’re intoxicated and Slashed Dreams is the one to definitely avoid.

6 More Chilling Classics: Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter, Scream Bloody Murder, Silent Night Bloody Night, Sisters of Death, War of the Robots, and Werewolf in a Girl’s Dormitory

Posted on May 23, 2012 by Lisa Marie Bowman

For the past few months, I’ve been attempting to watch and review every film to be found in Mill Creek’s 50 Chilling Classics box set. Here’s are 6 quick reviews of the latest few “chilling classics” that I’ve found the time to watch.

1) Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter (Dir by William Beaudine)

This 1966 western/horror hybrid is just about as stupid as you think it is but it’s also a lot of fun if you’re in the right mood. Notorious outlaw Jesse James (John Lupton) attempts to hold up a stagecoach but, in the process, his hulking partner Hank (Cal Bolder) is serious wounded. Some helpful peasants direct Jesse and Hank to the mysterious German doctor who happens to live in a nearby dark and scary house. That doctor is Maria Frankenstein (Narda Onyx) and she’s been conducting experiments to bring dead Mexicans back to life. Imagine her joy when the nearly dead Hank shows up at her laboratory. Anyway, Maria performs a brain transplant on Hank and once Hank comes back to life, she informs him that his new name is “Igor.” Yes, she does. That plot description pretty much tells you everything you need to know about the movie but I vaguely enjoyed vaguely paying attention to it. Maria’s German accent is hilariously overdone, the Frankenstein laboratory is full of pointless electrical things, and a character dies halfway through the film just to later show up again with no explanation. It’s that type of movie.

2) Scream Bloody Murder (dir. by Marc Ray)

So Matthew (played by Fred Holbert) is a disturbed young man who murders his father with a tractor and loses a hand in the process. He’s sent off to a mental asylum for a few years and while there, he’s given a sharp and potentially deadly hook as a replacement for his hand. Seriously, why would you give a weapon like that to a mental disturbed person who has just murdered his own father? That’s just one of the many mysteries that goes unexplored in 1973’s Scream Bloody Murder, an occasionally watchable slice of entertainment that is ultimately too slow and predictable to really be effective. Once Matthew is released from the asylum, he goes on the expected murder spree and goes all Collector-like on a prostitute named Vera (played by Leigh Mitchell, who also plays Matthew’s doomed mother in a clever bit of Oedipal casting). Mitchell and Holbert both give surprisingly good performances and director Marc Ray comes up with a few visually inventive scenes of mayhem but, for the most part, this film never quite lives up to the excessive promise of its premise.

3) Silent Night Bloody Night (dir. by Theodore Gershuny)

Filmed in 1972 and subsequently released in 1974, Silent Night Bloody Night is a real treat, an atmospheric thriller that has a wonderfully complicated plot that will keep you guessing. On Christmas Eve, Jeff Butler (James Patterson) comes to an isolated town to arrange the sell of his grandfather’s home. As we discover through some wonderfully dream-like flashbacks, Jeff’s grandfather died nearly 40 years ago when he was set on fire in his own home. With the help of local girl Diane (Mary Woronov), Jeff investigates his grandfather’s death and discovers that the town is full of secrets and people who are willing to kill to maintain them. Director Theodore Gershuny uses the low budget to his advantage and the sepia-toned flashbacks are truly disturbing and haunting. Ultimately, Silent Night Bloody Night feels like a dream itself and the mystery’s solution is less important than the journey taken to reach it.

4) Sisters of Death (dir. by Joseph Mazzuca)

Technically, this isn’t the best film to be found in the Chilling Classics box set but it’s still one of my personal favorites. The 1977 film opens with a very baroque sorority initiation that ends with one of the sisters being killed in a game of Russian Roulette. A few years later, the surviving sisters are invited to an isolated and lavish estate where it turns out that the dead girl’s father (well-played by Arthur Franz) is looking for revenge. This film is predictable and a lot of the plot depends on people refusing to use any common sense but Sisters of Death is such a fun little melodrama that I can’t complain too much. The film plays out like a surprisingly violent Lifetime movie and it all ends on a wonderfully cynical note.

5) War of the Robots (dir. by Alfonso Brescia)

Whatever you do, don’t watch War of the Robots alone. Seriously, you need somebody there — preferably several people — so you can take turns making snarky comments and rude jokes. Otherwise, you’ll just be stuck watching this amazingly bad science fiction film from 1978 and wondering how much more of it you can take. Set in the generic future, War of the Robots tells the story of what happens when two human scientists are kidnapped by a bunch of robots. Capt. John Boyd (Antonio Sabato) is sent to get the scientists back and the end result? A war of the robots. Or something like that. This is one of those films where it’s difficult to really pay that much attention to what’s happening on-screen. However, it’s worth seeing just for the chance to spot the wires that are enabling the model spaceship to hang over the “alien” landscapes. Naturally, since this film was made in the 70s, everyone wears space suits with really wide lapels.

6) Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory (dir. by Paolo Heusch)

First released in 1961, Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory is an Italian/Austrian co-production. It was originally titled Lycanthropus and while Werewolf In A Girls Dormitory is a lot more memorable, it also makes this film sound like a lot more fun than it actually is. This slow and oddly somber film tells the story about a series of murders that occur at a school for delinquent girls. The school’s newest teacher is the obvious suspect but then again, the killer might just be a werewolf. I liked the look of this film — the film is lit to emphasize shadows and it gives the whole thing a very noir-like feel — but, much like Scream Bloody Murder, this movie was just too slow to really be effective.

So, out of this batch of 6, I would definitely recommend that you track down and see Silent Night Bloody Night and Sisters of Death. I would also definitely suggest that you do your best to avoid War of the Robots. As for the other 3, they’re all better than The Wicker Tree.

A Canadian Quickie With Lisa Marie: The Bloody Brood (dir. by Julian Roffman)

Posted on May 10, 2012 by Lisa Marie Bowman

As part of my ongoing mission to see all of the film’s featured in Mill Creek’s 50 Chilling Classics box set, I watched a 65-minute Canadian film called The Bloody Brood last night.

First released in 1959 and filmed in moody, noir-ish black-and-white, The Bloody Brood tells the story of a low-level drug dealer and aspiring beatnik named Nico (Peter Falk). One night, while hanging out at the local coffeehouse and listening to decadent jazz, Nico witnesses a man drop dead of a heart attack. Intrigued by the man’s sudden death, Nico and his nervous friend, a tv director named Francis (Ron Hartmann), decide that they want to experience what it would be like to deliberately kill someone. Before you can say “Leopold and Loeb,” Nico and Francis are feeding a random stranger a hamburger laced with ground glass. That stranger, a hard-working telegram delivery man named Ricky (George Sperdakous), later dies of an intestinal hemorrhage.

Unknown to Nico and Francis, Ricky has an older brother named Cliff (Jack Betts) and Cliff doesn’t believe that his brother’s death was an accident. With the covert help of Detective McLeod (Robert Christie), Cliff starts to investigate his brother’s death. Cliff eventually meets Ellie (Barbara Lord), a disillusioned woman who has fallen in with Nico and his murderous crowd.

The Bloody Brood is an unexpected surprise, a genuinely entertaining B-movie that more than overcomes the confines of its low-budget and limited running time. While Peter Falk is the obvious center of the picture and steals every scene that he’s in with his coldly charismatic style of evil, the entire film is well cast and well acted with Hartmann and Betts both bringing unexpected nuance to their roles. However, the real star of the film is director Julian Roffman who gives the film a shadowy and threatening noir-look.

In many ways, The Bloody Brood represents everything I love about the low-budget, often sordid B-movies of the 50s and 60s. Working with limited resources and a small cast, director Julian Roffman managed to create a genuinely memorable movie. Films like The Bloody Brood continue to serve as proof that you don’t need millions of dollars to make a good film. You just need a strong creative vision and the imagination to make that vision a reality.

A Grindhouse Quickie with Lisa Marie: The Demon (dir. by Percival Rubens)

Posted on May 7, 2012 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Last summer, I decided to watch and review all 50 of the films to be found in Mill Creek’s Chilling Classics box set. Mill Creek, of course, is a company that’s best known for releasing box sets that seem to primarily feature low-budget films that, for whatever reason, have now found themselves in the public domain. If you’re a fan of old school B-movies in general, then you probably know just how fun it can be to read the back of a Mill Creek boxset and discover what obscure films are waiting inside. The thing that I especially love about Mill Creek is the fact that — in the best grindhouse tradition — they describe every film that they distribute (whether it’s George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead or something like Las Vegas Bloodbath) as being a “classic.”

So, anyway, I started to watch and review the films in the Chilling Classics box set but, as 2011 drew to a close, things got rather hectic and busy here at the TSL Bunker. In between covering the Oscar season and keeping the world supplied with weekly trailer posts, I had to set aside my plans to review the entire boxset for another day.

Well, I’m happy to say that day is here! Last night, I dug out the old Chilling Classics box set and I watched a South African slasher film from 1981, The Demon.

The Demon actually tells two separate but connected stories. In the first story, a teenage girl is kidnapped from her bedroom by a masked killer. Her distraught family calls in a tormented psychic who quickly proves himself to so superfluous and useless that you’d forget all about him except he’s played by the late Cameron Mitchell.

If you’re a fan of old school grindhouse and exploitation films then you’ve undoubtedly seen a handful of films featuring Mr. Mitchell. A former “legitimate” actor who, early on in his career, appeared in things like Death of a Salesman, Mitchell eventually became better known for appearing in low-budget exploitation films. Mitchell could always be counted on to shamelessly overemote and, regardless of the film he was appearing in, he was always a lot of fun to watch. If nothing else, Mitchell always seemed to be rather amused by the films he found himself in. It’s a shame that Cameron Mitchell died before Quentin Tarantino could engineer a comeback for him.

In The Demon, Cameron Mitchell spends most of his limited screen time standing on a rocky cliff while staring down at the ocean below and having psychic visions that don’t really seem to have much to do with anything else happening in the film. Actually, visions is the wrong word. As Mitchell says, “Sometimes…I get these feelings. Vibes, as the kids would say.”

And the kids are in a lot of trouble because our nameless killer has moved on to the city where he spends his time hanging around outside of a place called Boobs Disco and stalking two teachers named Mary (Jennifer Holmes) and Jo (Zoli Markey). This is the film’s second storyline and it mostly consists of Mary spotting the killer out of the corner of her eye and Jo pursuing a relationship with the most boring man on the planet.

Like quite a few films that seem to pop up in various Mill Creek box sets, The Demon is technically a pretty bad film but, once you accept that fact, it’s also an occasionally entertaining mess that delivers a handful of effectively creepy moment.

The scenes featuring Cameron Mitchell are entertaining for exactly the reason that you think they are. These scenes are such obvious filler and were so obviously added as an excuse to get a “name” actor to join the cast that it’s impossible not to admire the nerve of the filmmakers. They weren’t going to let a silly thing like narrative cohesion get in the way of producing a 90 minute film. Playing the world’s worst psychic, Cameron Mitchell delivers his lines with such a truly unfocused intensity that I actually spent the first half of the movie convinced that he was the murderer. The final fate of Mitchell’s character is truly shocking (if just because it kind of comes out of nowhere) and Mitchell plays his final scene as if he’s starring in a dinner theater production of some lost Shakespearean play.

If the scenes featuring Mitchell are mostly entertaining for being so bad, the scenes in which the nameless killer stalks Mary and Jo are actually pretty well done and the final confrontation between the final girl and the killer is handled surprisingly well (though I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the fact that the film contrives to have the final girl fight for her life while topless). The killer’s lack of personality makes him all the more intimidating and both Jennifer Holmes and Zoli Markey are likable and believable in the roles of Mary and Jo. If nothing else, The Demon proves that even a really poorly produced horror film can be partially redeemed (if not saved) by a likable cast of potential victims.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, The Demon — like many forgotten exploitation flicks — serves as a valuable time capsule of the society that produced it. To offer up just one example:

A Quickie Horror Review: Snowbeast (dir. by Herb Wallerstein)

Posted on October 8, 2011 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Since I previously reviewed two classic horror films from Mario Bava, it now seems like the perfect time to watch a film from Herb Wallerstein, called Snowbeast. Well, no, not really. In fact, to be honest, Snowbeast seems to exist on a totally different planet from either Black Sabbath or Planet of the Vampires. The two latter films are classics of cinema that should be seen by everyone, regardless of the season. Snowbeast, on the other hand, is the epitome of the perfect movie to turn on for background noise. Snowbeast is fun, unthreatening, likable, and ultimately rather forgettable. But sometimes, especially when it comes to finding something safe but appropriate to watch during the Halloween season, that is exactly what’s needed.

Snowbeast was originally made in 1977 and wow, does it show. According to Wikipedia (see, I do to research my claims occasionally), Snowbeast was originally a made-for-tv movie and it has retained a “cult following.” Well, I don’t know if I quite see the film’s cult appeal though it’s certainly better than any 82-minute tv show has any right to be. The film has also entered into the public domain, which, of course, means that it’s been released in a few thousand different Mill Creek box sets. Last time I counted, I actually had four different box sets that featured Snowbeast. So, if nothing else, I’ll always have Snowbeast.

(Incidentally, the version I watched came from the 50 Chilling Classics box set. This is the same box set that featured Cathy’s Curse, The Alpha Incident, The Demons of Ludlow, and my beloved Drive-In Massacre.)

Snowbeast takes place at a ski resort. An unseen monster is killing tourists. The sheriff (Clint Walker) thinks the monster is a yeti. Nobody believes him and the owner of the ski resort — Sylvia Sidney, who once starred in films directed by Josef Von Sternberg — is more interested in making money off of vacationers than in protecting the public safety. Now, if this happened today, I’d imagine there would be an OccupySnowBeast demonstration or something. However, since this film was made in the 70s, this instead just leads to Walker and Bo Svenson going off into the mountains to track down and kill the snowbeast.

Now, the plot of Snowbeast may sound a little familiar and that’s because it’s basically the exact same plot as Jaws except the water has been replaced with snow-capped mountains and the shark is now a Yeti. But otherwise, it’s pretty much the exact same story, right down to the greedy businesspeople going, “Shut down the mountain!? That’ll be bad for tourism!” and the film’s 3 heroes all giving each other knowing looks when the wrong bear is killed and paraded in front of the cheering townspeople. (That said, I have to say that if you love spotting overreacting extras in crowd scenes, this is the film for you.)

So, Snowbeast doesn’t win any points for originality but I’m willing to cut it some slack. Even though it’s a bit before my time, I’ll bet that Snowbeast wasn’t the only low-budget B-movie to rip off Jaws in the 70s and you don’t really watch a movie called Snowbeast for the plot anyway. You watch a movie called Snowbeast because you’re looking for something silly that won’t require too much thought. And that’s a perfect description of Snowbeast. It’s a film that’s done well enough that you won’t hate yourself for watching but, at the same time, is so predictable that you can do about a hundred other things while it’s playing without running the risk of missing anything important. It is literally a movie that you can start watching at any point after it’s started.

Ironically enough, Snowbeast is actually more effective because it was made for television. Yes, you don’t get the gore, sex, or profanity that you would typically expect from one of these films but it also means that you don’t get to see the killer Yeti except for one very brief shot. Otherwise, the Snowbeast of the title is represented by point-of-view shots of the monster about to attack some unsuspecting skier. As I’ve mentioned in other horror reviews, our imaginations will always come up with something scarier than even the most effective of special effects and Snowbeast‘s low budget origins force us to use our imagination more than the typical monster film would. As well, the snowy setting is beautiful to look at and if you’re a fan of watching people ski (and ski and ski and ski) this is the film for you. Seriously.

Lisa Marie Recommends Cathy’s Curse (dir. by Eddy Matalon)

Posted on August 8, 2011 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Like the Alpha Projectand The Demons of Ludlow, Cathy’s Curse is included in Mill Creek’s 50 Chilling Classics Box Set. As opposed to those two previous films (both of which had occasional flashes of quality submerged in all the badness), 1978’s Cathy’s Curse is a film that is just so relentlessly bad and inept that it succeeds in transforming cinematic incompetence into an art form. This is a film that’s so bad, you simply must see it.

Here’s the opening of the film, which will give you a pretty good clue to director Eddy Matalon’s unique cinematic vision. Now, please note, that this is not a case of a bad upload. This is what the film actually looks like as it plays on your television:

Anyway, once the opening credits are over with, here’s just a little of what’s waiting for you:

Years after that fateful car crash, the man’s son moves back into the old house. Accompanying him is his mentally unstable wife (who speaks in an oddly chirpy monotone throughout the entire film, it simply has to be heard to be believed) and his precocious daughter, Cathy. A few minutes after entering the house, Cathy finds her dead aunt’s old rag doll. A few second later, the rag doll’s eyes suddenly start glowing and Cathy’s possessed. Suddenly, she’s speaking in a much lower voice and cursing all the time. Nobody seems to notice.

Nobody, that is, except for the maid. However, the maid is easily taken care of when she happens to casually roll out of the attic window. I had to laugh out loud at this moment because director Matalon didn’t make much of an effort to disguise the fact that the maid had been replaced by a very stiff mannequin for the shot. I mean, its arms don’t even move as it plunges in freefall.

Anyway, the unstable mom happens to see the mannequin fall out of the window and then catches Cathy staring down from the same window. She confronts Cathy and Cathy, via a jump cut so abrupt that it actually makes a “gwapp” noise on the soundtrack, vanishes and then reappears directly behind her. Naturally this leads to mom having a nervous breakdown and going back to the mental hospital.

Cathy’s father has a business meeting out of town and informs Cathy that she might have to go stay with relatives. Cathy cries and her father decides that it would, instead, be a better idea to just leave Cathy alone in the house for a few weeks with the old, alcoholic groundskeeper. Cathy and the groundskeeper get along pretty well until an older woman shows up and claims to be a medium. A mysterious voice replies, “You’re a medium piece of shit!” and the medium runs off. Meanwhile, the groundskeeper starts to have hallucinations where he’s covered with rats, snakes, and spiders and then his noisy dog dies mysteriously.

Eventually, both dad and mom return home. Mom thinks something is wrong with Cathy. Dad says there’s nothing wrong with Cathy. Dad then leaves for work. Mom takes a bath. Suddenly, the bathwater is replaced with blood and mom is covered in leeches. Mom screams in terror.

At this point, (an hour and 7 minutes into the action for those that want to check) there’s an abrupt jump cut to a distinguished looking man getting into a car and driving off. This is the first time we’ve seen this man in the movie and it’s also the last time. Seriously.

Anyway, there’s another jump cut and Dad is relieved that mom is okay despite the fact that just a few seconds ago, she was literally covered in a thousand leeches.

Anyway, at this point, the film goes into its climax and I can’t really go into too much detail but (SPOILER ALERT) let’s just say that those of you who have spent 70 minutes going, “Why don’t they just take the doll away from her?” will end up feeling somewhat vindicated.

If you’re a lover of bad film (as opposed to just someone who watches these things and goes, “That was so dumb…”), Cathy’s Curse is a film that you must see.