ORGY OF THE DEAD
(1965)
Dir - A.C. Stephen
Overall: WOOF
When viewing anything under the Ed Wood umbrella of awful, you are usually guaranteed to be in for a very bizarre experience to say the least. Orgy of the Dead is an Ed Wood movie in all but the fact that it was technically "directed" by A.C. Stephen, with Wood handling nearly every other level of production including holding up the cue cards for one of his most infamous alumni The Amazing Criswell to badly and obviously read from. Essentially nothing more than a nudie-cuite, (an exploitation subgenre and precursor to adult films featuring female nudity in place of any narrative content), Orgy of the Dead features a whopping total of ten topless dance sequences, all performed by women who look as bored as we are watching them. The fact that these striptease scenes make up over an hour of the movie's ninety-two minutes is the one thing that makes it an easy contender as one of the most absolutely boring movies ever made. Actually, if not for how suicide-inducingly dull all of the nudity is, the movie would have otherwise been a masterpiece of trash. The dialog, acting, and preposterous set up of Criswell and his female ghoul/vampire/whatever, (plus a werewolf and mummy for no reason), conversing with each other is just hilariously stupid. It further boggles the mind that Wood would later turn the "script" here into a novel, yet another example of how he was probably the most clueless filmmaker who ever breathed air.
THE GHOST AND MR. CHICKEN
(1966)
Dir - Alan Rafkin
Overall: MEH
Hot off his success on The Andy Griffith Show, Don Knotts scored a contract with Universal for a number of staring vehicles, the only one of which that had a horror connection being The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. Unfortunately this is not one of the comedies of the day that has aged particularly well as it remains pretty consistently unfunny throughout its running time. As one could imagine, Knotts spends the entire movie with his eyes wide open while being nervous and scared at absolutely everything. Right from the very opening scene where he is frantically screaming at everyone that he just witnessed a murder, it becomes something of a chore to sit through. It is hardly spoiling anything that the "ghost" of the title is simply a Scooby Doo-style red herring and naturally it is a rather shrug-worthy twist. Then there is also an "adda boy" running gag that likewise gets really old, really fast. Perhaps if the movie spent more than one scene in the Gothic mansion and delivered a few more fun, spooky moments, (and if Knotts toned down his cartoonish persona a bit), The Ghost and Mr. Chicken could have been more welcoming, but alas it is just adequately dull.
NIGHTMARE IN WAX
(1969)
Dir - Bud Townsend
Overall: GOOD
The deliberately cheap, ham-fisted House of Wax rip-off Nightmare in Wax very oddly overcomes its shortcomings and makes the absolute best use out of its silliness. Technically speaking, the movie is poor for the most part. The cinematography is occasionally terrible, the sound design is muffled, there are some embarrassing attempts at humor, and the ending is either incomprehensible or laughably stupid. Plot details are hardly important as within the first few minutes, we pretty much then know exactly what is going to happen for the whole movie. All of that said though, the camp level is certainly high and great mileage is gotten out of the familiar premise of a wax museum operator out for revenge. Cameron Mitchell mostly made a career out of appearing in B-movies that were all levels of bad, (from fun bad to unwatchably bad), and thankfully he was still giving it his all here, sinking his scenery-chewing jaws into the material. While he does not bring a level of class to the proceedings like say a Vincent Price or Christopher Lee would have, he makes up for it with a delightfully outlandish portrayal that is anything but shallow. His performance is enough yet all things considered, this is the good kind of dumb movie that keeps up the pace, making it quite user-friendly to chuckle at.
Monday, December 31, 2018
Saturday, December 29, 2018
60's American Horror Part One
THE FLESH EATERS
(1964)
Dir - Jack Curtis
Overall: MEH
Relatively gory for the time period, Jack Curtis' The Flesh Eaters has aged as a rather mediocre though still somewhat admirable B movie. As usual with an independent film like this, the lack of convincing special effects are easy to overlook and are actually rather charming in their simplicity. A moment where a corpse is terribly superimposed over a backdrop where you can see through his eaten out rib cage, (see picture), is as ineffective as they get, but it is still complimented somewhat by how sincere the production is. The small cast is pretty solid and professional, all except a disgustingly obnoxious beatnik who shows up midway though and sadly does not get killed immediately. The movie was scripted by comic book author Andrew Drake and it does have that kind of fun, pulp quality to it while incorporating a giant, mutated monster and a Nazi scientist together. All being set on a single island with only a handful of characters though, there is not enough steam in the story to keep things from getting a bit dull. The ending gets messy too with the exposed, untrustworthy German doctor double crossing the manly, chiseled hero and damsel in distress a little too easily and frequently.
CHAMBER OF HORRORS
(1966)
Dir - Hy Averback
Overall: MEH
Originally proposed as a television series, Chamber of Horrors was turned from a pilot into a theatrical feature with some added, extra bloody scenes and a few William Castle-esque gimmicks such as the red "Fear Flasher" and "Horror Horn" that pop up right before all of the nasty murders that take place. There are a handful of amusing moments here, including a random cameo from Tony Curtis, José René Ruiz as a noble, midget sidekick, Wildfrid Hyde-White's charming wax museum owner/true crime novelist Harold Blount, a bizarre, creepy wedding ceremony at gunpoint opening, and the overall concept of a killer with a missing right hand that he can hook on any type of murder weapon to. All of this said though, comedy actor and radio personality Hy Averback is hardly a master of suspense and the movie never picks up any necessary, heart-racing momentum. The script is rather lazily structured and underwritten, repeatedly slowing down for long intervals and then introducing new characters and situations that are left too open ended. This is most likely due to the fact that it was all originally meant to set up a TV series and would have eventually gotten around to fleshing more things out. As it is though, it does not quite work well enough as a stand alone movie.
INCUBUS
(1966)
Dir - Leslie Stevens
Overall: GOOD
A strange history accompanies this strange film from Outer Limits creator Leslie Stevens which was made at the end of that show's run, shortly before star William Shatner was to go on to become iconic as Captain Kirk in Star Trek. Stevens had much difficulty getting it distributed and it ended up only showing in France before it was presumed lost for thirty years, a French print eventually emerging in 1996 and re-subtitled into English. Made deliberately as an arthouse movie with cinematographer Conrad Hall, (who also started on The Outer Limits), Incubus was filmed in the language of Esperanto which the entire cast learned phonetically. It was also shot in black and white and plays like a curious fairytale where witches, demons, and both evil and good magic seem to be toying with everyone's fate. The story is simple yet not necessarily coherent, but the movie's random logic is befitting to the bizarre, atmospheric way that it is presented. People who actually speak Esperanto may find it unintentionally hilarious due to the cast's piss-poor pronunciation and occasionally Stevens lets the pace drag a bit, but overall this is a rather fascinating bit of occult filmmaking.
(1964)
Dir - Jack Curtis
Overall: MEH
Relatively gory for the time period, Jack Curtis' The Flesh Eaters has aged as a rather mediocre though still somewhat admirable B movie. As usual with an independent film like this, the lack of convincing special effects are easy to overlook and are actually rather charming in their simplicity. A moment where a corpse is terribly superimposed over a backdrop where you can see through his eaten out rib cage, (see picture), is as ineffective as they get, but it is still complimented somewhat by how sincere the production is. The small cast is pretty solid and professional, all except a disgustingly obnoxious beatnik who shows up midway though and sadly does not get killed immediately. The movie was scripted by comic book author Andrew Drake and it does have that kind of fun, pulp quality to it while incorporating a giant, mutated monster and a Nazi scientist together. All being set on a single island with only a handful of characters though, there is not enough steam in the story to keep things from getting a bit dull. The ending gets messy too with the exposed, untrustworthy German doctor double crossing the manly, chiseled hero and damsel in distress a little too easily and frequently.
CHAMBER OF HORRORS
(1966)
Dir - Hy Averback
Overall: MEH
Originally proposed as a television series, Chamber of Horrors was turned from a pilot into a theatrical feature with some added, extra bloody scenes and a few William Castle-esque gimmicks such as the red "Fear Flasher" and "Horror Horn" that pop up right before all of the nasty murders that take place. There are a handful of amusing moments here, including a random cameo from Tony Curtis, José René Ruiz as a noble, midget sidekick, Wildfrid Hyde-White's charming wax museum owner/true crime novelist Harold Blount, a bizarre, creepy wedding ceremony at gunpoint opening, and the overall concept of a killer with a missing right hand that he can hook on any type of murder weapon to. All of this said though, comedy actor and radio personality Hy Averback is hardly a master of suspense and the movie never picks up any necessary, heart-racing momentum. The script is rather lazily structured and underwritten, repeatedly slowing down for long intervals and then introducing new characters and situations that are left too open ended. This is most likely due to the fact that it was all originally meant to set up a TV series and would have eventually gotten around to fleshing more things out. As it is though, it does not quite work well enough as a stand alone movie.
INCUBUS
(1966)
Dir - Leslie Stevens
Overall: GOOD
A strange history accompanies this strange film from Outer Limits creator Leslie Stevens which was made at the end of that show's run, shortly before star William Shatner was to go on to become iconic as Captain Kirk in Star Trek. Stevens had much difficulty getting it distributed and it ended up only showing in France before it was presumed lost for thirty years, a French print eventually emerging in 1996 and re-subtitled into English. Made deliberately as an arthouse movie with cinematographer Conrad Hall, (who also started on The Outer Limits), Incubus was filmed in the language of Esperanto which the entire cast learned phonetically. It was also shot in black and white and plays like a curious fairytale where witches, demons, and both evil and good magic seem to be toying with everyone's fate. The story is simple yet not necessarily coherent, but the movie's random logic is befitting to the bizarre, atmospheric way that it is presented. People who actually speak Esperanto may find it unintentionally hilarious due to the cast's piss-poor pronunciation and occasionally Stevens lets the pace drag a bit, but overall this is a rather fascinating bit of occult filmmaking.
Thursday, December 27, 2018
60s William Castle Part Two
13 GHOSTS
(1960)
Overall: GOOD
Playing a similar game as House on Haunted Hill though not as successful due to a few reasons, 13 Ghosts is still enjoyable, harmless supernatural fun. For this one, William Castle gave the audience Illusion-O viewers which showcased the ghosts of the film in red while the rest of the scenery was in blue. Watching the movie outside of the theater in normal black and white decades later, this effect is obviously no longer relevant, yet it also allows one to more fairly experience the film sans the hokey artifice. As was sometimes the case in Castle's work, the twist here is disappointing be it in a far more simple manner than usual for the producer/director. Sometimes the case though, the spooky opening and all of the fun, ghostly sound effects are quite a hoot for fans of anything old school, haunted house-themed and the negative-image, superimposed specters themselves are equally rather nifty even if they look a bit dated. Unfortunately, the ghost-seeing goggles that some of the characters wear are both completely unnecessary to the plot and look idiotic and the movie is as much a textbook offender for "why don't these people move out of the house?" horror movie nonsense as any ever made. To each their own then as to whether or not this makes 13 Ghosts just a stupid little haunted house movie or a FUN stupid little haunted house movie.
MR. SARDONICUS
(1961)
Overall: GOOD
One of the stronger overall William Castle vehicles, Mr. Sardonicus has the usual pieces in place from the director/producer. All the while, the suspense is kept up, the pacing is swift, and the typically ridiculous plot elements are in enough check to not make one raise their eyebrows too much to get distracted. Castle hired Ray Russell to adapt his own short story "Sardonicus" which was originally published in Playboy magazine and the film has more the feel of a Gothic horror or mad scientist movie without particularly being one. There is the title character's gloomy, fog-laden castle in the fictional central European country of Gorslava, a deformed servant, grave robbery, helpless maids subject to torture, crucial science experiments, and a village apparently terrified of the evil castle and the rumors of all of the women who are abducted there, to name but a few familiar ingredients. While Guy Rolfe, (The Stranglers of Bombay), as the masked, diabolical Baron and Oscar Homolka, (Alfred Hitchcock's Sabotage), as his one-eyed henchman are both quite good, most of the credit deservingly goes to Castle who delivers another swell gimmick near the end which is the "Punishment Poll" that is addressed directly to the theater audience. Even with such silliness in place, Castle generally keeps the whole of Mr. Sardonicus from going that far over the top.
STRAIT-JACKET
(1964)
Overall: MEH
William Castle's first team up with Psycho author Robert Bloch was the Joan Crawford-starred vehicle Strait-Jacket, a film that was meant to ride on the success of 1962's influential and much lauded psycho-biddy originator Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?. Being a William Castle production, it is over the top in questionable ways, particularly in the ending which is unnecessarily twisty and asinine. For her part as the former mental patient axe-wielder, Crawford is precisely what you would expect and she delightfully camps it up as she was always effortlessly able. Small parts by George Kennedy and Lee Majors provide some other highlights, particularly the former who is a grimy farm-hand that ends up seeing and knowing too much. Castle milked the chopping off of heads angle as much as he could, giving out cardboard axes to theater-goers and showcasing the trademark Columbia torch-bearing logo woman at the very end in a decapitated fashion. While the movie is ultimately undone by its groan-worthy ending and almost consistently inappropriate musical score that seems straight out of a completely different movie, it is still enjoyable in enough parts to get a kick out of.
(1960)
Overall: GOOD
Playing a similar game as House on Haunted Hill though not as successful due to a few reasons, 13 Ghosts is still enjoyable, harmless supernatural fun. For this one, William Castle gave the audience Illusion-O viewers which showcased the ghosts of the film in red while the rest of the scenery was in blue. Watching the movie outside of the theater in normal black and white decades later, this effect is obviously no longer relevant, yet it also allows one to more fairly experience the film sans the hokey artifice. As was sometimes the case in Castle's work, the twist here is disappointing be it in a far more simple manner than usual for the producer/director. Sometimes the case though, the spooky opening and all of the fun, ghostly sound effects are quite a hoot for fans of anything old school, haunted house-themed and the negative-image, superimposed specters themselves are equally rather nifty even if they look a bit dated. Unfortunately, the ghost-seeing goggles that some of the characters wear are both completely unnecessary to the plot and look idiotic and the movie is as much a textbook offender for "why don't these people move out of the house?" horror movie nonsense as any ever made. To each their own then as to whether or not this makes 13 Ghosts just a stupid little haunted house movie or a FUN stupid little haunted house movie.
MR. SARDONICUS
(1961)
Overall: GOOD
One of the stronger overall William Castle vehicles, Mr. Sardonicus has the usual pieces in place from the director/producer. All the while, the suspense is kept up, the pacing is swift, and the typically ridiculous plot elements are in enough check to not make one raise their eyebrows too much to get distracted. Castle hired Ray Russell to adapt his own short story "Sardonicus" which was originally published in Playboy magazine and the film has more the feel of a Gothic horror or mad scientist movie without particularly being one. There is the title character's gloomy, fog-laden castle in the fictional central European country of Gorslava, a deformed servant, grave robbery, helpless maids subject to torture, crucial science experiments, and a village apparently terrified of the evil castle and the rumors of all of the women who are abducted there, to name but a few familiar ingredients. While Guy Rolfe, (The Stranglers of Bombay), as the masked, diabolical Baron and Oscar Homolka, (Alfred Hitchcock's Sabotage), as his one-eyed henchman are both quite good, most of the credit deservingly goes to Castle who delivers another swell gimmick near the end which is the "Punishment Poll" that is addressed directly to the theater audience. Even with such silliness in place, Castle generally keeps the whole of Mr. Sardonicus from going that far over the top.
STRAIT-JACKET
(1964)
Overall: MEH
William Castle's first team up with Psycho author Robert Bloch was the Joan Crawford-starred vehicle Strait-Jacket, a film that was meant to ride on the success of 1962's influential and much lauded psycho-biddy originator Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?. Being a William Castle production, it is over the top in questionable ways, particularly in the ending which is unnecessarily twisty and asinine. For her part as the former mental patient axe-wielder, Crawford is precisely what you would expect and she delightfully camps it up as she was always effortlessly able. Small parts by George Kennedy and Lee Majors provide some other highlights, particularly the former who is a grimy farm-hand that ends up seeing and knowing too much. Castle milked the chopping off of heads angle as much as he could, giving out cardboard axes to theater-goers and showcasing the trademark Columbia torch-bearing logo woman at the very end in a decapitated fashion. While the movie is ultimately undone by its groan-worthy ending and almost consistently inappropriate musical score that seems straight out of a completely different movie, it is still enjoyable in enough parts to get a kick out of.
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
60's William Castle Part One
HOMICIDAL
(1961)
Overall: MEH
Essentially if Psycho was pure, unapologetic camp instead of the benchmark thriller that it is, it would be Homicidal. William Castle was five films deep into his stream of gimmick-laden horror movies with this one that added the forty-five second long "Fright Break" near the finale; a gimmick that would refund anyone in the audience who wanted to bail before the credits hit. Before they did so though, the theater would shine a spotlight on them and make them stand in a "Cowards Corner". As usual, the hilarious movie theater showmanship of Castle was as memorable if not more so than the film itself. The twist in Homicidal is almost immediately apparent once we meet a certain character and it pretty much just becomes a waiting game to see how Castle and co are going to play their cards from that point out. Joan Marshall, (cleverly billed under a false name as a newcomer Jean Arless), is appropriately hammy and delightful while everyone else plays it pretty dull and straight, also appropriately. Since Castle is not setting out to make anything resembling high art here and is solely concerned with getting butts in the seats while throwing enough playful schlock at them to cheer at, Homicidal achieves its mission.
THE NIGHT WALKER
(1964)
Overall: GOOD
Ditching any on or off screen gimmicks for a change, William Castle's The Night Walker plays it comparatively more straightforward even if the convoluted plot is as nonsensical as ever. Reuniting the one time married couple of Robert Taylor and Barbra Stanwyck, (in her final film role before permanently going into television), and snatching Robert Bloch who wrote Psycho, the film has some appealing personnel on board and the "nightmares vs reality", double-crossing, infidelity driven story is ideal for Castle and his schlocky tendencies. The opening narration is filmed in an excellent, avant-garde fashion and one scene that takes place in a chapel probably stands as one of the most bizarre and creepy wedding ceremonies ever filmed. Elsewhere, there is plenty of tension built up during some other nice set pieces and throughout all of it, you are just waiting for the ridiculous twist to arrive. In that regard, the movie does not disappoint. The ending while not the most absurd wrap-up for a Castle movie, (Macabre still owns that prestigious title), it is gleefully perplexing. Going back over the entire movie's chain of events, it certainly does not hold up in any logical capacity whatsoever. That said, it is all part of the standard, William Castle fun and gets a pass for how well done the bulk of it is.
I SAW WHAT YOU DID
(1965)
Overall: MEH
At this point into his unabashedly hokey career, William Castle seemed a bit confused as to where to draw the line as far as how to juggle the silly and suspenseful aspects of his films. I Saw What You Did was his second feature to star Joan Crawford, (the first being the previous year's Strait-Jacket), and though the iconic actress has a much smaller role here, she still owns every scene she is in as a disturbingly infatuated neighbor. Elsewhere though, there are major issues in the musical soundtrack which is nearly incessant. It is also wildly inappropriate in most instances, with its jaunty, wacky theme played so much that any would-be tension is totally crippled. We are left with a feeling that the entire movie was one big joke, even when a terrifying thing like a maniac terrorizing a teenager and her younger sister while they are home all alone is happening. Tone complications were rarely an issue for Castle's films where he generally would keep the tongue firmly in cheek and have fun with his macabre subject matter. Though I Saw What You Did comes in shy of being a total waste, to see it cross this far over the line is still disappointing.
(1961)
Overall: MEH
Essentially if Psycho was pure, unapologetic camp instead of the benchmark thriller that it is, it would be Homicidal. William Castle was five films deep into his stream of gimmick-laden horror movies with this one that added the forty-five second long "Fright Break" near the finale; a gimmick that would refund anyone in the audience who wanted to bail before the credits hit. Before they did so though, the theater would shine a spotlight on them and make them stand in a "Cowards Corner". As usual, the hilarious movie theater showmanship of Castle was as memorable if not more so than the film itself. The twist in Homicidal is almost immediately apparent once we meet a certain character and it pretty much just becomes a waiting game to see how Castle and co are going to play their cards from that point out. Joan Marshall, (cleverly billed under a false name as a newcomer Jean Arless), is appropriately hammy and delightful while everyone else plays it pretty dull and straight, also appropriately. Since Castle is not setting out to make anything resembling high art here and is solely concerned with getting butts in the seats while throwing enough playful schlock at them to cheer at, Homicidal achieves its mission.
THE NIGHT WALKER
(1964)
Overall: GOOD
Ditching any on or off screen gimmicks for a change, William Castle's The Night Walker plays it comparatively more straightforward even if the convoluted plot is as nonsensical as ever. Reuniting the one time married couple of Robert Taylor and Barbra Stanwyck, (in her final film role before permanently going into television), and snatching Robert Bloch who wrote Psycho, the film has some appealing personnel on board and the "nightmares vs reality", double-crossing, infidelity driven story is ideal for Castle and his schlocky tendencies. The opening narration is filmed in an excellent, avant-garde fashion and one scene that takes place in a chapel probably stands as one of the most bizarre and creepy wedding ceremonies ever filmed. Elsewhere, there is plenty of tension built up during some other nice set pieces and throughout all of it, you are just waiting for the ridiculous twist to arrive. In that regard, the movie does not disappoint. The ending while not the most absurd wrap-up for a Castle movie, (Macabre still owns that prestigious title), it is gleefully perplexing. Going back over the entire movie's chain of events, it certainly does not hold up in any logical capacity whatsoever. That said, it is all part of the standard, William Castle fun and gets a pass for how well done the bulk of it is.
I SAW WHAT YOU DID
(1965)
Overall: MEH
At this point into his unabashedly hokey career, William Castle seemed a bit confused as to where to draw the line as far as how to juggle the silly and suspenseful aspects of his films. I Saw What You Did was his second feature to star Joan Crawford, (the first being the previous year's Strait-Jacket), and though the iconic actress has a much smaller role here, she still owns every scene she is in as a disturbingly infatuated neighbor. Elsewhere though, there are major issues in the musical soundtrack which is nearly incessant. It is also wildly inappropriate in most instances, with its jaunty, wacky theme played so much that any would-be tension is totally crippled. We are left with a feeling that the entire movie was one big joke, even when a terrifying thing like a maniac terrorizing a teenager and her younger sister while they are home all alone is happening. Tone complications were rarely an issue for Castle's films where he generally would keep the tongue firmly in cheek and have fun with his macabre subject matter. Though I Saw What You Did comes in shy of being a total waste, to see it cross this far over the line is still disappointing.
Sunday, December 23, 2018
60's Herschell Gordon Lewis
COLOR ME BLOOD RED
(1965)
Overall: MEH
The third installment in Herschell Gordon Lewis and producer David F. Friedman's "Blood Trilogy", Color Me Blood Red was released a year after it was filmed due to the duos falling out, as well as some legal matters that needed to be fixed. Following up the seminal Blood Feast and 2,000 Maniacs, this one is undoubtedly the weakest of the three. Bottom barrel acting, lackadaisical pacing, technical aspects such as proper lighting, framing, and miking never being a concern; all of these elements are in virtually every frame. The story is as silly as any in Lewis' films, this time where a raving asshole of a painter is butt-hurt because a critic does not like him, so he starts killing people to use their blood as the perfect color for his canvases. Way, way too much screen time though is spent watching inconsequential people gallivanting on beaches and worse yet, there is one incredibly obnoxious board who speaks exclusively in unfunny, "hip" 60s slang and she is not even one of the ones who gets killed. It is a misfire in every respect, but at least there is some gore in a few select scenes.
A TASTE OF BLOOD
(1967)
Overall: MEH
Herschell Gordon Lewis' take on the vampire film, (particularly his modern day version of Dracula), is as embarrassing and silly as any. That said, it still maintains a level of likability even amongst its multitude of shortcomings. As usual, Lewis' ambitious exceed his meager means. Without the budget nor competent filmmaking abilities at his disposal, A Taste of Blood is hilariously inept in the usual technical areas involving sound design, editing, and pacing. The acting is agreeable considering how poor such Z-level movies usually are, though the dialog is made up of all of the dumb cliches that you can think of. Still, the aforementioned pacing problem is the obstacle to overcome. At nearly two hours in length, this is insultingly too long and nearly every sequence can be trimmed to keep things moving at even the most borderline engaging stride. We are in trouble from early on where it takes eons for anything to start happening and in the meantime, Lewis is oblivious to the fact that he does not need to show countless long scenes of his characters walking and talking about things that are unnecessary to the story. Worse yet, this is sadly one of Lewis' least-gory crud rocks, such blood and guts otherwise at least meriting the very existence of much of his work.
(1965)
Overall: MEH
The third installment in Herschell Gordon Lewis and producer David F. Friedman's "Blood Trilogy", Color Me Blood Red was released a year after it was filmed due to the duos falling out, as well as some legal matters that needed to be fixed. Following up the seminal Blood Feast and 2,000 Maniacs, this one is undoubtedly the weakest of the three. Bottom barrel acting, lackadaisical pacing, technical aspects such as proper lighting, framing, and miking never being a concern; all of these elements are in virtually every frame. The story is as silly as any in Lewis' films, this time where a raving asshole of a painter is butt-hurt because a critic does not like him, so he starts killing people to use their blood as the perfect color for his canvases. Way, way too much screen time though is spent watching inconsequential people gallivanting on beaches and worse yet, there is one incredibly obnoxious board who speaks exclusively in unfunny, "hip" 60s slang and she is not even one of the ones who gets killed. It is a misfire in every respect, but at least there is some gore in a few select scenes.
(1965)
Dir - Bill Rebane/Herschell Gordon Lewis
Overall: WOOF
A strange, exasperatingly terrible Z-grade piece of garbage, Monster a Go-Go! has everything going against it. Production originally began in 1961 under director Bill Rebane yet after he ran out of money, Herschell Gordon Lewis bought the rights, filmed some new scenes with mostly different actors, (or the same actors looking completely different), and quickly released it so it could go along with his own Moonshine Mountain as a double feature. All of the hallmarks of incompetent filmmaking are present; scenes go on uncut for eons, none of the actors are properly miked, the lack of budget is unmistakable, (uniformed cops drive regular cars, scientists and law officials have meetings in restaurants, a ringing telephone sound effect is made by someone's mouth, etc), characters appear and then disappear without a trace, the narration desperately tries and fails to "explain" what is happening, the ending is laughably abrupt, and the story is shockingly incomprehensible. As is the case with another sure-fire contenders as the worst technical movies ever made, this one is more drab than anything, with its comatose-inducing pace so detrimental that hardly anyone is likely to make it past the first three minutes without tuning out.
(1967)
Overall: MEH
Herschell Gordon Lewis' take on the vampire film, (particularly his modern day version of Dracula), is as embarrassing and silly as any. That said, it still maintains a level of likability even amongst its multitude of shortcomings. As usual, Lewis' ambitious exceed his meager means. Without the budget nor competent filmmaking abilities at his disposal, A Taste of Blood is hilariously inept in the usual technical areas involving sound design, editing, and pacing. The acting is agreeable considering how poor such Z-level movies usually are, though the dialog is made up of all of the dumb cliches that you can think of. Still, the aforementioned pacing problem is the obstacle to overcome. At nearly two hours in length, this is insultingly too long and nearly every sequence can be trimmed to keep things moving at even the most borderline engaging stride. We are in trouble from early on where it takes eons for anything to start happening and in the meantime, Lewis is oblivious to the fact that he does not need to show countless long scenes of his characters walking and talking about things that are unnecessary to the story. Worse yet, this is sadly one of Lewis' least-gory crud rocks, such blood and guts otherwise at least meriting the very existence of much of his work.
Friday, December 21, 2018
A Claymation Christmas Celebration
A CLAYMATION CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
(1987)
Dir - Will Vinton
Overall: THE BEST
What the hell am I doing writing about a twenty-four minute Christmas special that originally debuted on CBS along with A Garfield Christmas on December 21st, 1987 that has absolutely nothing to do with horror movies? Well shut up and I will tell you, you impatient, imaginary person you.
Two things right off of the bat. One, today is the thirty-first anniversary of its televised debut and two, claymation visionary Will Vinton died two months ago, making this the very first Christmas since this special aired that he is no longer with us. Thus as a fitting tribute, today seems an ideal time to use my blog's powers for good for a change and talk about my absolute favorite Christmas program of any kind that was ever on television.
Unfortunately I cannot remember the exact year that I first saw A Claymation Christmas Celebration. From what info I have been able to dig up, they ran it up until 1990 and it sounds about right to me that one of those three or four showings was the one that I decided to record on VHS on a total whim. *Cue "back in my day" rant* You see, when we were kids in the 1980s and wanted to watch something more than once, we had to use a blank video cassette tape, wait for said program to be on, hit the record button, and if you were the skilled expert that six-to-nine year old me was, you would stop recording during the commercials and be able to accurately predict when to start recording again. This made playback more user friendly as you did not have to fast-forward through the advertisements when you watched the tape five, ten, and twenty years later.
On this amusing note, once I got Claymation Christmas on DVD proper about a decade ago, I still cannot get used to watching it WITHOUT the few seconds of commercials that I still caught during my initial VHS recording. Furthermore, it still seems unnatural to watch it WITH the full returns from the commercial breaks in, my original copy missing a few seconds of each. It is also impossible to watch it now in a complete, digital form without remembering exactly where all of the volume dips occurred since the original tape that I had of this was played so many times that the white plastic inside actually changed color to dark yellow. I had to turn the volume up so loud while watching it that more than half of the actual audio was well-earned tape hiss. Ah, good times indeed.
If any of you have never heard of this program that I speak of, it was not because you were living under a rock. Its limited run of just a small handful of Yuletide seasons pretty much cemented it as having a cult status. Most of the only people out there who know it and love it I reckon are the now grown kids or even older grown-ups who watched it, (and taped it if they were wise like I was), when CBS ran it after Garfield. A soundtrack album was also released eleven months later, but it had omitted one of the songs while adding several others and you guessed it, has been out of print ever since. So this is a bit of a hidden, forgotten gem that never got the syndicated play that say A Charlie Brown Christmas, Grinch, or Die Hard has continued to get.
Starting in the early 70s in what would become "claymation", Will Vinton made the Oscar winning short Closed Mondays and by 1976 established Will Vinton Studios in Portland. Over the next several years, he did sequences for Michael Jackson, (the "Speed Demon" video and Captain EO film), created The California Raisins and the Domino's Pizza Noid, and also did the batshit crazy and disturbing The Adventures of Mark Twain film to name but a few. Post Claymation Christmas he made two more still interesting though less stellar holiday specials, (The Claymation Comedy of Horrors and A Claymation Easter), the M&M animated characters, and Eddie Murphy's show The PJs.
He was eventually bought out of his own company by Nike owners Phil and Travis Knight, (long story there), but the guy kept busy up until his retirement in 2008. A Claymation Christmas was commissioned by CBS in 1987 and was made quickly on a conservative budget. The music was handled by Patric Miller, a Portland native who mainly did radio spots and commercial jingles. As mentioned, it was ready for air that very December 21st and seemed to get unanimously likeable reviews before, (for whatever reason, maybe television politics or legal matters?), it was only show those couple of years. Since I had my trusty ole Kodak VHS though, I was good.
What is this weird Claymation Christmas special that I keep blabbing about in the first place though? Well, essentially it is a variety show spoof with two dinosaurs Rex and Herb, (don't ask), who are very vaguely stylized after Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, if the former was a no-nonsense tight-ass and the latter a borderline flamingly gay chubby fellow. They proceed to set up two musical segments at a time before the commercials run, all of which showcase both the wildly inventive, trademark claymation of Will Vinton and his studio plus the music of Patric Miller. Miller actually set up an entire website dedicated to delivering a detailed account of every process of how the exceptional soundtrack was made from when he was contacted, how minimally he was paid, (do not worry, he is only "mildly" bitter about that), and how he handled a near last minute addition of Vinton's very famous California Raisins to the fold. Or as my cousins always called them, "The California Poo Men".
So to dive into spoilers I guess, there is a running gag around the song "Here We Come A-Wassailing", some of the songs are instrumental, one of them has a different style of animation utilizing sand, some are hilarious, some are just cool, and all of them are memorable. Though a Scrooge I most certainly am not, I have also always been a steadfast believer that practically all Christmas music is the audio equivalent of prostate cancer, but I have to fully admit that not a single musical moment on Claymation Christmas disappoints my eardrums. The California Raisins do The Temptations version of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and it is as toe-tapping and awesome as any Motown single ever was, says me and I am right.
As a side-note, when I saw Home Alone in the theater during its initial release, they actually played the "Carol of the Bells" sequence before the movie. At that point I had already committed every sound of this special to memory so I got rather giddy and hyper when this happened and could not believe that now a whole theater full of people were getting a chance to see how great at least one of its vignettes was. I never saw a short before a film ever again in the theater and never had another person tell me a similar story when they saw Kevin McAllister try and kill Joe Pesci when said movie cam out so, right place, right time for that one I suppose.
I will be the first to proudly admit that the allure and continued enjoyment that accompanies every viewing I ever have of A Claymation Christmas each and every year is based prominently on nostalgia. Christmastime in general is something that I can never be a humbug about. Yes, having kids and watching them wake up at the crack of dawn and go ape-shit over all of the presents that Santa gave them certainly contributes. Yet even the several years that I spent as a grown-up before becoming a dad, I still got delighted as soon as Thanksgiving was over and I could properly get into the whole Christmas spirit. I still dream of the house that I grew up in and the family room in it that I first watched A Claymation Christmas in too, so I logically reckon that I shall always hold such a holiday hot spot in my heart.
This particular special is just that; "special". I still recall how I decided to keep recording on my VCR after Garfield was over just in case the next program was any good. As me and my family laughed at all of the silly puns, the banter between the dinosaur hosts, and how utterly awesome all of the claymation was, I clearly made the wise choice. Also because my family got as much if not more of a kick out of it that I, it is easy for me to recommend it to anyone out there of any age even if you have been totally ignorant of it until now. You may not get the very real and very powerful nostalgic kick out of it that I and others who caught it long ago are forever destined to have, but unless you are a full-blown Scrooge, you will be hard-pressed to go any Christmas season forward without it.
(1987)
Dir - Will Vinton
Overall: THE BEST
What the hell am I doing writing about a twenty-four minute Christmas special that originally debuted on CBS along with A Garfield Christmas on December 21st, 1987 that has absolutely nothing to do with horror movies? Well shut up and I will tell you, you impatient, imaginary person you.
Two things right off of the bat. One, today is the thirty-first anniversary of its televised debut and two, claymation visionary Will Vinton died two months ago, making this the very first Christmas since this special aired that he is no longer with us. Thus as a fitting tribute, today seems an ideal time to use my blog's powers for good for a change and talk about my absolute favorite Christmas program of any kind that was ever on television.
Ralphie, eat, (shoot), your heart, (eye) out. |
Unfortunately I cannot remember the exact year that I first saw A Claymation Christmas Celebration. From what info I have been able to dig up, they ran it up until 1990 and it sounds about right to me that one of those three or four showings was the one that I decided to record on VHS on a total whim. *Cue "back in my day" rant* You see, when we were kids in the 1980s and wanted to watch something more than once, we had to use a blank video cassette tape, wait for said program to be on, hit the record button, and if you were the skilled expert that six-to-nine year old me was, you would stop recording during the commercials and be able to accurately predict when to start recording again. This made playback more user friendly as you did not have to fast-forward through the advertisements when you watched the tape five, ten, and twenty years later.
On this amusing note, once I got Claymation Christmas on DVD proper about a decade ago, I still cannot get used to watching it WITHOUT the few seconds of commercials that I still caught during my initial VHS recording. Furthermore, it still seems unnatural to watch it WITH the full returns from the commercial breaks in, my original copy missing a few seconds of each. It is also impossible to watch it now in a complete, digital form without remembering exactly where all of the volume dips occurred since the original tape that I had of this was played so many times that the white plastic inside actually changed color to dark yellow. I had to turn the volume up so loud while watching it that more than half of the actual audio was well-earned tape hiss. Ah, good times indeed.
Because the 80s amiright? |
If any of you have never heard of this program that I speak of, it was not because you were living under a rock. Its limited run of just a small handful of Yuletide seasons pretty much cemented it as having a cult status. Most of the only people out there who know it and love it I reckon are the now grown kids or even older grown-ups who watched it, (and taped it if they were wise like I was), when CBS ran it after Garfield. A soundtrack album was also released eleven months later, but it had omitted one of the songs while adding several others and you guessed it, has been out of print ever since. So this is a bit of a hidden, forgotten gem that never got the syndicated play that say A Charlie Brown Christmas, Grinch, or Die Hard has continued to get.
Starting in the early 70s in what would become "claymation", Will Vinton made the Oscar winning short Closed Mondays and by 1976 established Will Vinton Studios in Portland. Over the next several years, he did sequences for Michael Jackson, (the "Speed Demon" video and Captain EO film), created The California Raisins and the Domino's Pizza Noid, and also did the batshit crazy and disturbing The Adventures of Mark Twain film to name but a few. Post Claymation Christmas he made two more still interesting though less stellar holiday specials, (The Claymation Comedy of Horrors and A Claymation Easter), the M&M animated characters, and Eddie Murphy's show The PJs.
As if Will Vinton could not be cooler, he also contributed to this part of my childhood. |
He was eventually bought out of his own company by Nike owners Phil and Travis Knight, (long story there), but the guy kept busy up until his retirement in 2008. A Claymation Christmas was commissioned by CBS in 1987 and was made quickly on a conservative budget. The music was handled by Patric Miller, a Portland native who mainly did radio spots and commercial jingles. As mentioned, it was ready for air that very December 21st and seemed to get unanimously likeable reviews before, (for whatever reason, maybe television politics or legal matters?), it was only show those couple of years. Since I had my trusty ole Kodak VHS though, I was good.
What is this weird Claymation Christmas special that I keep blabbing about in the first place though? Well, essentially it is a variety show spoof with two dinosaurs Rex and Herb, (don't ask), who are very vaguely stylized after Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, if the former was a no-nonsense tight-ass and the latter a borderline flamingly gay chubby fellow. They proceed to set up two musical segments at a time before the commercials run, all of which showcase both the wildly inventive, trademark claymation of Will Vinton and his studio plus the music of Patric Miller. Miller actually set up an entire website dedicated to delivering a detailed account of every process of how the exceptional soundtrack was made from when he was contacted, how minimally he was paid, (do not worry, he is only "mildly" bitter about that), and how he handled a near last minute addition of Vinton's very famous California Raisins to the fold. Or as my cousins always called them, "The California Poo Men".
Now they are forever ruined/made better for you. |
So to dive into spoilers I guess, there is a running gag around the song "Here We Come A-Wassailing", some of the songs are instrumental, one of them has a different style of animation utilizing sand, some are hilarious, some are just cool, and all of them are memorable. Though a Scrooge I most certainly am not, I have also always been a steadfast believer that practically all Christmas music is the audio equivalent of prostate cancer, but I have to fully admit that not a single musical moment on Claymation Christmas disappoints my eardrums. The California Raisins do The Temptations version of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and it is as toe-tapping and awesome as any Motown single ever was, says me and I am right.
As a side-note, when I saw Home Alone in the theater during its initial release, they actually played the "Carol of the Bells" sequence before the movie. At that point I had already committed every sound of this special to memory so I got rather giddy and hyper when this happened and could not believe that now a whole theater full of people were getting a chance to see how great at least one of its vignettes was. I never saw a short before a film ever again in the theater and never had another person tell me a similar story when they saw Kevin McAllister try and kill Joe Pesci when said movie cam out so, right place, right time for that one I suppose.
Hooray for blind, dumb luck! |
I will be the first to proudly admit that the allure and continued enjoyment that accompanies every viewing I ever have of A Claymation Christmas each and every year is based prominently on nostalgia. Christmastime in general is something that I can never be a humbug about. Yes, having kids and watching them wake up at the crack of dawn and go ape-shit over all of the presents that Santa gave them certainly contributes. Yet even the several years that I spent as a grown-up before becoming a dad, I still got delighted as soon as Thanksgiving was over and I could properly get into the whole Christmas spirit. I still dream of the house that I grew up in and the family room in it that I first watched A Claymation Christmas in too, so I logically reckon that I shall always hold such a holiday hot spot in my heart.
This particular special is just that; "special". I still recall how I decided to keep recording on my VCR after Garfield was over just in case the next program was any good. As me and my family laughed at all of the silly puns, the banter between the dinosaur hosts, and how utterly awesome all of the claymation was, I clearly made the wise choice. Also because my family got as much if not more of a kick out of it that I, it is easy for me to recommend it to anyone out there of any age even if you have been totally ignorant of it until now. You may not get the very real and very powerful nostalgic kick out of it that I and others who caught it long ago are forever destined to have, but unless you are a full-blown Scrooge, you will be hard-pressed to go any Christmas season forward without it.
Well played Mr. Vinton, well played. |
60's Mexican Horror Part Two
MACARIO
(1960)
Dir - Roberto Gavaldón
Overall: GOOD
A celebrated supernatural film from director Roberto Gavaldón, Macario is an adaptation of B. Traven's story "The Third Guest", itself a variation of the brothers Grimm fable "Godfather Death". Centered around the poor woodcutter of the title who lives out a meager existence with his wife and numerous children, Macario longs to be full instead of perpetually hungry on the Day of the Dead ceremony when he witnesses turkeys being prepared for wealthy people who can afford to lay out feasts for those that are not even living. The story explicitly deals with class struggles and Catholic guilt brought on by the grossly impoverished being granted a taste of the good life, though not without their share of suffering in order to find everlasting salvation. Ignacio López Tarso turns in a wonderful performance in the lead, looking like a Mexican Jeffery Lewis in some respects with an innocent, benevolent demeanor that makes his hardships and those of his family that much more impactful. It is tragic without being miserably dour and its "meek shall inherent the earth" message, (while rooted in dogma that is not universally accepted), still has a heartfelt undercurrent that is sincerely presented.
HASTA EL VIENTO TIENE MIEDO
(1968)
Dir - Carlos Enrique Taboada
Overall: GOOD
A haunted, all girls college is an ideal setup that plenty of horror films have utilized and writer/director Carlos Enrique Taboada gets good mileage out of such a premise in Hasta El Viento Tiene Miedo, (Even the Wind is Afraid). It is a classic slow-burn affair where the first two acts only tease at the sinister elements that are afoot, allowing us to spend more time getting to know the small group of girls who are stuck at their school over the holidays by their strict headmistress, (because you have to have one of those). This is not a problem though since throughout the entire movie, Taboada upholds a creepy atmosphere, playing with shadows and tricks of light every time that evening falls and utilizing the wind of the title like a tornado that touches down every night. This latter element becomes silly in how violently it blows open locked doors and women's hair into their face as they keep going outside to see what kind of spectre activity is going on. It plays all of the subtle, supernatural horror tricks well and delivers when the curtain is finally pulled back during the finale, making this a more lighthearted precursor to Narciso Ibáñez Serrador's excellent La residencia from the following year.
(1960)
Dir - Roberto Gavaldón
Overall: GOOD
A celebrated supernatural film from director Roberto Gavaldón, Macario is an adaptation of B. Traven's story "The Third Guest", itself a variation of the brothers Grimm fable "Godfather Death". Centered around the poor woodcutter of the title who lives out a meager existence with his wife and numerous children, Macario longs to be full instead of perpetually hungry on the Day of the Dead ceremony when he witnesses turkeys being prepared for wealthy people who can afford to lay out feasts for those that are not even living. The story explicitly deals with class struggles and Catholic guilt brought on by the grossly impoverished being granted a taste of the good life, though not without their share of suffering in order to find everlasting salvation. Ignacio López Tarso turns in a wonderful performance in the lead, looking like a Mexican Jeffery Lewis in some respects with an innocent, benevolent demeanor that makes his hardships and those of his family that much more impactful. It is tragic without being miserably dour and its "meek shall inherent the earth" message, (while rooted in dogma that is not universally accepted), still has a heartfelt undercurrent that is sincerely presented.
100 CRIES OF TERROR
(1965)
Dir - Ramón Obón
Overall: MEH
The only directorial effort from screenwriter Ramón Obón, 100 Cries of Terror, (Cien gritos de terror), is a two-part anthology film and an uneven one at that. The first segment "Panico" is the classic, infidelity double-cross where a guy and his mistress believer that they are getting his wife out of the way in an isolated, supposed haunted house and the second "Miedo Supremo" is nothing more than a woman going hysterical while her and another guy are trapped in a crypt overnight. Obón utilizes some creepy sound effects here or there and stages some moments of slow-building intensity, but he or somebody involved also occasionally throws in loud, busy jazz music to completely break up the mood. Speaking of loud, the second story grows unbearable as Alicia Caro relentlessly wails and complains as Jorge Martínez de Hoyos repeats the same dialog over and over again in an aggravatingly futile attempt to calm her down. Though the latter is more one-note and skippable, the opening "Panico" is poorly executed as well, ending several minutes before it actually ends as we wait for something else to happen instead of just Ariadne Welter merely walking around quietly and gathering up her things. Both stories could have afforded to trim twenty minutes and ergo would have worked better as brisk television episodes than something that is stretched into an hour and forty minute feature.
(1965)
Dir - Ramón Obón
Overall: MEH
The only directorial effort from screenwriter Ramón Obón, 100 Cries of Terror, (Cien gritos de terror), is a two-part anthology film and an uneven one at that. The first segment "Panico" is the classic, infidelity double-cross where a guy and his mistress believer that they are getting his wife out of the way in an isolated, supposed haunted house and the second "Miedo Supremo" is nothing more than a woman going hysterical while her and another guy are trapped in a crypt overnight. Obón utilizes some creepy sound effects here or there and stages some moments of slow-building intensity, but he or somebody involved also occasionally throws in loud, busy jazz music to completely break up the mood. Speaking of loud, the second story grows unbearable as Alicia Caro relentlessly wails and complains as Jorge Martínez de Hoyos repeats the same dialog over and over again in an aggravatingly futile attempt to calm her down. Though the latter is more one-note and skippable, the opening "Panico" is poorly executed as well, ending several minutes before it actually ends as we wait for something else to happen instead of just Ariadne Welter merely walking around quietly and gathering up her things. Both stories could have afforded to trim twenty minutes and ergo would have worked better as brisk television episodes than something that is stretched into an hour and forty minute feature.
(1968)
Dir - Carlos Enrique Taboada
Overall: GOOD
A haunted, all girls college is an ideal setup that plenty of horror films have utilized and writer/director Carlos Enrique Taboada gets good mileage out of such a premise in Hasta El Viento Tiene Miedo, (Even the Wind is Afraid). It is a classic slow-burn affair where the first two acts only tease at the sinister elements that are afoot, allowing us to spend more time getting to know the small group of girls who are stuck at their school over the holidays by their strict headmistress, (because you have to have one of those). This is not a problem though since throughout the entire movie, Taboada upholds a creepy atmosphere, playing with shadows and tricks of light every time that evening falls and utilizing the wind of the title like a tornado that touches down every night. This latter element becomes silly in how violently it blows open locked doors and women's hair into their face as they keep going outside to see what kind of spectre activity is going on. It plays all of the subtle, supernatural horror tricks well and delivers when the curtain is finally pulled back during the finale, making this a more lighthearted precursor to Narciso Ibáñez Serrador's excellent La residencia from the following year.
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
60's Mexican Horror Part One
EL MUNDO DE LOS VAMPIROS
(1961)
Dir - Alfonso Corona Blake
Overall: GOOD
One of the rare Mexican horror films to have actually been shown in U.S. theaters for a short run in its original, non-dubbed and uncut version, El mundo de los vampiros, (The World of the Vampires), is more fantastic than it has any business to be. As quirky and ridiculous as any other Gothic, foreign horror export and loaded with cliches to the point of pure silliness, all of the interesting and bizarre elements enhance it. There are bat-like humanoids who wear capes and absurd, papier-mâché masks that are not meant to look like they are wearing either, the actual rubber bats on strings are straight out of a Z-grade production, the main vampire, (a dashing Guillermo Murray), constantly makes grandiose speeches to himself while trying his hardest to parody Béla Lugosi, and this only scratches the surface. Though many textbook undead motifs are present, it still finds time to tweak the mythos with certain music being deadly to vampires and their full transformation coming after being bitten and then sacrificed on an altar. If that last part is left out, they apparently start growing hair all over them and turn into the weird, creepy mask-wearing things. There are plenty of illogical moments, (why would a vampire of all things keep a huge pit of pointy spikes in his lair?), and the film is lit too brightly in most scenes to be properly atmospheric, but delivers the type of ghoulish fun that only the most knowingly campy genre films do.
(1961)
Dir - Alfonso Corona Blake
Overall: GOOD
One of the rare Mexican horror films to have actually been shown in U.S. theaters for a short run in its original, non-dubbed and uncut version, El mundo de los vampiros, (The World of the Vampires), is more fantastic than it has any business to be. As quirky and ridiculous as any other Gothic, foreign horror export and loaded with cliches to the point of pure silliness, all of the interesting and bizarre elements enhance it. There are bat-like humanoids who wear capes and absurd, papier-mâché masks that are not meant to look like they are wearing either, the actual rubber bats on strings are straight out of a Z-grade production, the main vampire, (a dashing Guillermo Murray), constantly makes grandiose speeches to himself while trying his hardest to parody Béla Lugosi, and this only scratches the surface. Though many textbook undead motifs are present, it still finds time to tweak the mythos with certain music being deadly to vampires and their full transformation coming after being bitten and then sacrificed on an altar. If that last part is left out, they apparently start growing hair all over them and turn into the weird, creepy mask-wearing things. There are plenty of illogical moments, (why would a vampire of all things keep a huge pit of pointy spikes in his lair?), and the film is lit too brightly in most scenes to be properly atmospheric, but delivers the type of ghoulish fun that only the most knowingly campy genre films do.
THE BATWOMAN
(1968)
Dir - René Cardona
Overall: WOOF
As one could easily surmise, The Batwoman, (La mujer murcielago), is the non-union, female Mexican equivalent to Batman as well as another bit of luchador nonsense. Staring Maura Monti as the title crime-fighter who is basically Bruce Wayne minus the trauma and gadgetry, she is also a wrestler because movies are stupid. She is wealthy, glamorous, some men know her true identity and hang out with her casually for drinks at the beach, plus she occasionally gets in the ring while rocking the whole Adam West, tight-pajama ensemble while tossing a few other ladies around, (ladies who have little to no dialog mind you). Elsewhere, Monti is in a bikini and a cape because what self-respecting feminist super hero would not be wearing something like that when battling laughably one-note mad scientists and fish monsters? The script by Alfredo Salazar is pure zany camp, but only on paper since director René Cardona shoehorns in as many lackluster "sitting and talking" sequences as possible in order to make sure that it is an aggravatingly boring viewing experience first and foremost. It is all played straight with few intentional laughs to be had, but even as a sexy, kitschy, lame-brained comic book knock-off, it is as dull as they come and only recommended for the most patient of bad movie hounds.
(1968)
Dir - René Cardona
Overall: WOOF
As one could easily surmise, The Batwoman, (La mujer murcielago), is the non-union, female Mexican equivalent to Batman as well as another bit of luchador nonsense. Staring Maura Monti as the title crime-fighter who is basically Bruce Wayne minus the trauma and gadgetry, she is also a wrestler because movies are stupid. She is wealthy, glamorous, some men know her true identity and hang out with her casually for drinks at the beach, plus she occasionally gets in the ring while rocking the whole Adam West, tight-pajama ensemble while tossing a few other ladies around, (ladies who have little to no dialog mind you). Elsewhere, Monti is in a bikini and a cape because what self-respecting feminist super hero would not be wearing something like that when battling laughably one-note mad scientists and fish monsters? The script by Alfredo Salazar is pure zany camp, but only on paper since director René Cardona shoehorns in as many lackluster "sitting and talking" sequences as possible in order to make sure that it is an aggravatingly boring viewing experience first and foremost. It is all played straight with few intentional laughs to be had, but even as a sexy, kitschy, lame-brained comic book knock-off, it is as dull as they come and only recommended for the most patient of bad movie hounds.
EL LIBRO DE PIEDRA
(1969)
Dir - Carlos Enrique Taboada
Overall: MEH
Released the same year as the fun, spooky college girl romp Hasta el viento tiene miedo, writer/director Carlos Enrique Taboada's follow-up El Libro de piedra, (The Book of Stone), is a comparatively listless ordeal. There are some creepy ideas present even without the proper foreboding atmosphere necessary to enhance them, but at an hour and forty-minutes, the pacing is by far the biggest issue. Taboada's story concerns familiar, cliched elements centered around a borderline bratty child with a wealthy, neglectful father, a stepmother that she does not get along with, a concerned Governess at her side, and an "imaginary" friend. The results are neither unique or exciting as virtually nothing happens besides grown-ups talking, talking some more, and then talking a whole lot more followed by lots and lots of talking in other rooms. The very last handful of minutes introduce a few supernaturally chilling moments, but the finale would be much more unsettling and successful if the enormous bulk of the presentation was not so problematically sleepyheaded.
(1969)
Dir - Carlos Enrique Taboada
Overall: MEH
Released the same year as the fun, spooky college girl romp Hasta el viento tiene miedo, writer/director Carlos Enrique Taboada's follow-up El Libro de piedra, (The Book of Stone), is a comparatively listless ordeal. There are some creepy ideas present even without the proper foreboding atmosphere necessary to enhance them, but at an hour and forty-minutes, the pacing is by far the biggest issue. Taboada's story concerns familiar, cliched elements centered around a borderline bratty child with a wealthy, neglectful father, a stepmother that she does not get along with, a concerned Governess at her side, and an "imaginary" friend. The results are neither unique or exciting as virtually nothing happens besides grown-ups talking, talking some more, and then talking a whole lot more followed by lots and lots of talking in other rooms. The very last handful of minutes introduce a few supernaturally chilling moments, but the finale would be much more unsettling and successful if the enormous bulk of the presentation was not so problematically sleepyheaded.
Monday, December 17, 2018
100 Favorite Bands/Artists - Part Five
Outlasting many of their grunge-era, alternative pop peers and consistently delivering more hits as well, Stockbridge, Georgia's Collective Soul have stayed the course and remained remarkably excellent for years. Frontman/songwriter Ed Roland has never tried to be fancy or pretentious with his writing and this has been a saving grace for them. Utilizing simple chords, superb melodies, and sticking to a conventional pop formula that has always suited them, the rather uncomplicated ingredients have brought us so far nine very solid albums and basically at this point, I am convinced that they are never going to make a bad one. As I am sure is the case with most of you, I heard "Shine" way back when it came out and liked it a lot, but further gems such as "The World I Know", "Gel", "Precious Declaration", "Forgiveness", "Heavy", "Needs", "She Said", and "Satellite" just graze the surface of how truly great this band always has been.
19. STEELY DAN
Who could have predicted that a band named after a bunch of dildos in William S. Burrough's batshit bonkers Naked Lunch novel would end up being the word's quintessential soft jazz rock outfit? Donald Fagan and the late Walter Becker met at Bard College in New York during 1967 and struck up a songwriting partnership that did not initially get them much success on account of their songs being too unorthodox for other recording artist to grasp. Once they put their own proper group together and got the hits "Reelin' in the Years", "Do It Again", and "Dirty Work" out of the way on their debut Can't Buy a Thrill though, a sturdy discography without a dud came in its wake. The band's biggest record Aja is their peak of excellence and at that point Becker and Fagan had been expertly utilizing the industry's best session musicians. By primarily being a studio only duo, (since you could afford to do that in the 70s), they likewise perfected the art of then modern, pre-digital recording techniques. All of the Dan's records still sound absolutely amazing because the patience was taken to make them sound that way.
The only guitarist that ever truly gave Tony Iommi a run for his money in the riff-writing department was Dimebag Darrell and good lord, what riffs these guys had. The first four Pantera albums for anyone who has actually heard them are far more silly than interesting, as they ultimately sounded like a poor man's Mötley Crüe before Phil Anselmo came aboard and the southern groove metal elements starting finding their way in. Even if Anselmo was only doing a Rob Halford impression at first. Once they were finally signed to Atco records in late 1989 and unleashed Cowboys from Hell on the masses, they had come into their own and never put out another bad record going forward. Even their swansong Reinventing the Steel though at the time comparatively disappointing, does get better with age perhaps in part because it is the last Pantera we are ever going to get. At this writing, both Dimebag and Vinnie Paul are sadly no more, but Pantera's legacy continues to grow as it should and they are practically the tightest, sickest-riffed metal band in history.
17. RADIOHEAD
Radiohead formed in 1985, consisting of a bunch of school mates that have stayed together for over thirty years now and for almost twenty of them, they have been exploring every avenue possible in making their instruments sound like anything but their instruments. Essentially a progressive pop band and the very best one at that, Radiohead's music has been as persistently excellent as it is boldly challenging. Before Kid A and everything wonderful that followed, they briefly were one of England's most exciting alternative groups and even when playing more conventionally sounding guitars, bass, and drums on The Bends and OK Computer, the songwriting was greatly above average and the art rock leanings were readily apparent. Thom York's ability to not enunciate his words is matched by his effortlessly gorgeous voice and even if it appears that Radiohead has found their electronic, experimental niche, their records continue to be anything but elementary.
16. ALICE COOPER
Before Detroit-born, son of a pastor Vincent Furnier actually became Alice Cooper, there was a band named such that he and a few high school friends put together before they could even play any instruments. Said group was so out of control musically at first that Frank Zappa signed them to his Straight label and when they got Bob Ezrin to come in to help fine-tune their songwriting and presentation, they joyously became the shock rock band most parents hated. The records they made were of course fucking outstanding as well. I got into Alice Cooper hard at the same time I got into Kiss, (unsurprisingly), but it was only in small part due to the horror-themed, villainous image. Love It to Death, Killers, and Billion Dollar Babies are as classic as any classic rock gets and later solo Alice Cooper joints found him further collaborating with Ezrin, as well as Bernie Taupin, Desmond Child, and excellent musicians overall. Surviving both a horrendous bout with alcoholism and then later far worse, Cooper came out clean over thirty years ago and has remained a genuinely caring, funny, and golfing old rock dude who is still cranking out records, endlessly touring, and cutting his own head off on stage.
15. RAMMSTEIN
Germany's pyro-fueld Rammstein became a favorite of mine way back in high school and because none of their to-date six records have anything close to a bad song on them, I have not held them in any lower regard since. It is always splendid when a band knowingly goes for laughs as much as anything else and Rammstein have never stopped giggling all the way to the bank whether it is while the chase each other around on stage with dildos, dress up in fat suites, or make a porno staring themselves as a music video. Musically, these guys have always been incredibly heavy. Their first two albums featured a higher emphasis on industrial elements, but the third Mutter was really when things began to shift to their current more organic, groove metal sound. As nothing they have done throughout their evolution has suffered a bit in quality and though they have often hinted at packing it in at some point, (possibly even after their still to be announced new album), I will soak up all the Rammstein I can in the meantime thank you very much.
14. MORRISSEY
The perpetually self-loathing, A-sexual, vegetarian activist crooner Stephen Patrick Morrissey has had a solo career that is only slightly less impressive than the one by that really great band he briefly fronted. Striking out on his own pretty much as soon as The Smiths packed it in, Morrissey has put out eleven studio albums and like his former band, a whole lot of singles and B-sides that continue to marvelously showcase his hilarious, overly-dramatic, miserable persona. Mostly working with long time collaborators and guitarists Alain Whyte and still Boz Boorer, Morrissey has played with rockabilly, straight-up Britpop, and even prog here or there, (check out Southpaw Grammar for evidence of that). His lyrics though have only grown more honest while remaining just as biting and funny. Many people find Morrissey's smug, anti-social persona too much for them yet being a fan for most of my life and also reading his autobiography, I am pretty convinced that he is in on the joke. Which just makes make me love the guy even more.
13. PRINCE
In one respect, Prince may have simply recorded too much damn music for his own good. Going through all of it, (meaning all of it that has actually been released), is a chore that few of us truly have the time for. Taking into account thirty-nine studio albums, (a handful of them double or triple ones), plus compilations, collaborations with lots of other groups he put together, and all pf the hit songs he gave away, there sure is a whole lot of stuff out there. Thankfully, most of it is wonderful and at the time of his sudden death from a painkiller overdose, he was still a guitar playing beast and one of the most ridiculously dynamic singers in all of popular music. Many people will probably have a different answer as to their favorite Prince song and record, (Sign o' the Times and "Adore" off of it for me), and that is part of the beauty of his work. Singing about sex, god, and then sex again, performing virtually every instrument throughout his career himself, and playing rock, funk, psychedelia, new wave, R&B, and pop occasionally all at the same time, a very convincing argument can be made that Prince was the most talented musician who ever lived.
12. FAITH NO MORE
Only knowing of "Epic" and their cover of The Commodores "Easy" for quite some time, when I finally got curious enough to check out all of Faith No More's Mike Patton-fronted records, I gradually became all but obsessed with how fantastic this band was. Throw any title you want at them, but theirs is a sound that cannot truly be pinned to the ground. This is partly due to the fact that like most of the very best bands out there, FNM were able to successfully pull off various styles whenever they felt like it. They have the occasional country song, bossa nova song, R&B jam, punk song, and noise fest, but no matter what they are playing, the thunderous rhythm section of Mike Bordin and Billy Gould as well as Roddy Bottum's keyboards always make them sound just like Faith No More. Of course you also have to mention Mike Patton's superhuman vocal acrobatics as a very integral piece to the puzzle. This guy can make his voice do absolutely ANYTHING, whether it is rapping, crooning, extreme metal screaming, soulful screaming, or throwing it into any register he pleases with any modulation or cadence adjustments always remaining his willing bitch.
11. TOOL
"So, when's that new Tool album coming out?" has become the new Chinese Democracy joke, but at least the guys in Tool have the good sense to be honest about their molasses-leaking creative process and do not themselves promise us new material each and every year. The amount of time between Tool releases went from three, to five, to at this writing over twelve fucking years, but if there is a pattern to acknowledge here, it will be well worth the wait once some more new music is finally here. Tool formed in LA in 1990 and they seemed to have an agenda to get their audience to think for themselves and see through the world's bullshit right off the bat, while musically they have grown into one of the most complex, atmospheric, and definitely unique progressive rock bands of all time. They rarely indulge in 4/4 time signatures with Adam Jones' highly distinct, drop D riffs, Justin Chancellor's effects-laded bass, Danny Carey's barbarian heavy, occult-based drumming, and Maynard James Keenan's often funny, intellectually stimulating lyrics sung with a voice that is eerily sweet amongst the darkness of everything around it.
10. DEPECHE MODE
The greatest of all electronic bands, Depeche Mode is one of the handful on this list that I have to recognize as having a flawless recording career. Fourteen studio albums since 1981 and perpetually maturing with age, it is almost easy to take their excellence for granted at this point. When another Depeche album drops, I am simply complacent with how good it always, always is. Mere kids when they began, the group's early output was rather primitive and quite dated to the new wave, synth-laden dance sound of the day. By the late 80s, albums like Black Celebration and Music for the Masses were going in a darker direction and then Violator broke them in a huge way. Songs of Faith and Devotion, (which like Violator was co-produced by Flood), is the one that has grown to represent their peak for me as gospel elements and live instrumentation were both first brought into the fold. After putting out his debut solo album, the Playing the Angel record established a new ere for the band as vocalist David Gahan began contributing material along with longtime songwriter Martin Gore and Depeche Mode where all the better for it.
9. U2
Is it unfair to expect yet another creative resurgence from the overall biggest band to come out of the 80s? So far U2 have had two artistic slumps that eventually flourished two comebacks with the Achtung Baby and All That You Can't Leave Behind records respectfully and at this writing, they seem perfectly content to basically continue to remake various versions of the latter till they cease being a band. I cannot honestly demand anything more from them at this point though. The Joshua Tree is the single best album put out in the 1980s and saw a sophistication in their writing and experimenting, (fueled by Brian Eno and Daniel Lenois, the absolute dream team of record producers). Its opening three tracks "Where the Streets Have No Name", "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", and "With or Without You" are still the best three opening tracks that any record has got. The band's music has always been unapologetically simple at its core, but the layers of sounds to it, (mostly stemming from the Edge's distinctive guitar effects), as well as Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr.'s rather hefty rhythm section can do no wrong behind Bono's extremely emotional voice.
8. THE POLICE
Having wrapped it up when they did, (meaning after their best album Synchronicity), The Police quitting while they were not only ahead but actually at their peak commercially as a band pretty much sealed their fate as the best of all rock trios. Much like The Doors, taking any member out of The Police would completely change everything about them. Andy Summers mostly studied classical guitar and his approach to playing was highly dexterous and always tasteful, without ever succumbing to anything resembling shredding. Enough cannot be said about Stewart Copeland who is easily one of the most one-of-a-kind drummers; an absolute master of hi-hat flavoring as well as African rhythms applied to a contemporary drum set. Besides having still an ageless singing voice that sounds like absolutely no one else, Sting was a fusion musician who ended up being insanely gifted as a pop songwriter. I am still kicking myself for missing their 2007 reunion, but maybe if we are all lucky, they will forget that they did that and go do it again.
7. THE SMITHS
While most bands especially out of England in the early 80s were balls-deep in the synth/dance sound of the era, out of gloomy ole, working class Manchester came The Smiths, a guitar pop group that wound up being the most influential and beloved since The Beatles. There is a pattern here of phenomenal bands who only stuck around for a small handful of years and the five that The Smiths gave us were enough to drop four albums and nearly a couple thousand singles, so one cannot really complain that they short-changed us. With Morrissey practically coming out of nowhere, (having never been in a group before and only ending up on Johnny Marr's radar because he was the founder of the New York Dolls fanclub), it is remarkable how organic their sound immediately was. Marr's jangly, multi-layered guitar and the Moz' unmistakable croon, (which started out with traces of a far more flamboyant yelp), plus his sardonic, humorous lyrics found a massive audience in their home country while still today in the States, usually only us cool kids are hip to them.
6. BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
I had a feeling before numbering this list that The Boss was going to end up my highest solo artist and sure enough, here he is. New Jersey native Bruce Springsteen has been showered with so much praise since nearly the beginning of his career that I cannot really add much more worthwhile acclaim of my own. Though I grew up with him in the MTV era along with many of you, I did not actually dig into his catalog until my early twenties after hearing about how great he was throughout my life. Which as it turns out yeah, everybody is right about that. I can list all of his incredible albums but you should know them by now. From The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle through Tunnel of Love, Springsteen consistently matured as a writer, bringing his working class characters along for the ride with him and further exploring the love and longing of human interactions. When he put the E Street Band back together in 2001, his later body of work became mighty and has continued to shine. Few if any songwriters are both as direct and deep as Springsteen has always been and the man can still get more out of just a couple of chords and a guitar if he needs to than anybody else.
5. THE ROLLING STONES
I cannot claim to be a Rolling Stones expert quite the way I can the rest of my top five, but I have familiarized myself pretty well with their magical, golden era around the late 60s and early 70s when they were truly firing on all cylinders. Still often compared to The Beatles because they both became the biggest British Invasion bands at virtually the same time, that has never been very accurate of a correlation as the Stones were always very much their own beast. They were humbly no more than a blues cover band on their first couple of records, but due to the encouraging of their then manager Andrew Oldman, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards started getting in on that sweet song-publishing money, becoming a songwriting duo surprisingly fast that was not to be messed with. I enjoy the Stones' early years as much as the next person, but Beggar's Banquet saw a refinement of their entire craft and all of a sudden they really arrived. Blues, rock and roll, and country music became a singular entity under their abilities and the elastic, coarse way they interacted with each other as musicians made everything splendidly come together. Try as countless people have, no one sounds like the Stones and all of them now pushing eighty, they are most likely going to drop dead on stage proving it.
4. KISS
I have gone a few years now not bringing up Kiss on this blog and welp, lets change that shall we? Having discussed my love for this band ad nauseum, if anyone was unaware, yes I am as big a Kiss fan as you are likely to meet. The horny superhero image aside, what is truly great about them is how varied their discography is. Multiple eras that underwent lineup changes and musical shifts a plenty, Kiss were never dull for a solitary second and even their weakest records still have plenty of redeemable qualities. Their original lineup has become so cherished by Kiss fans that a good handful of them nearly come to blows with other fans who like the non-make up years or the current, half-original members version just fine. I personally find much to love about all of them yet if I had to pick, I mostly fancy their early to mid 90's run right before the reunion which saw their best studio album Revenge, their best live album Unplugged, and the then shelved Carnival of Souls. That wound up being the last point in Kiss' career where they were still moving forward before they would spend the last twenty plus basically throwing back to their 70s heyday, though understandably so.
3. QUEEN
I "discovered" Queen when I was in 5th grade and my younger brother decided they were the greatest thing since sliced bread. This was after Freddie Mercury died, Wayne's World came out, "Bohemian Rhapsody" once again topped the charts, and the Freddie tribute concert aired on Easter Sunday. There really has not been a day gone by since where I have not thought about how unbelievable this band was. Each member of Queen was a superb songwriter, none of them without a monster hit or a couple dozen under their belts. Vocally, Freddie, Roger Taylor, and Brian May all harmonized better than anyone and May's custom guitar tone was as unique and recognizable as Taylor's drumming. John Deacon was the quiet ace up Queen's sleeve, penning "Another One Bites the Dust", "You're My Best Friend", "Spread Your Wings", and "I Want to Break Free" to name just the most popular ones. Freddie of course besides ultimately being the band's most proficient song craftsman, had the world's finest singing voice, easily soaring through any song at any volume way up until he was literally dying from AIDS and still laying down blistering, gorgeous vocals on his last ever recordings.
2. LED ZEPPELIN
John Henry Bonham was the one drummer who actually changed my life by making me want to hit things with sticks, ideally a drum set. Because of this, Led Zeppelin became the most important band for my wanting to be a musician and my obsession with them has simply become a part of life. There are a lot of groups on this list that you can say this about, but every member of Led Zeppelin truly was equally on par with each other. Robert Plant in his prime, (meaning his Zeppelin-fronting years), had a ferociously mighty voice, full of unheard of vibrato and ceaseless range. John Paul Jones was a seasoned session musician and multi-instrumentalist who could easily rank as the best bass player in rock history. John Bonham of course has rightfully long been renowned as many people's all time favorite drummer, (mine included), and his almost insultingly dominant groove remains unmatched even by the most skilled skinsmen out there. Jimmy Page then had a loose, uncontrollably lead style where the notes often seemed to be exploding from his fingers against his will and filtering blues and folk music through his antenna created half of hard rock's best ever songwriting partnership.
1. THE BEATLES
Now is the time where I am really going to start sounding like a broken record. All of these bands and all these solo artist have led to the absolute apex of popular recorded music, the single greatest band of any time, The Beatles. A year or so before Led Zeppelin made me want to actually play music, The Beatles made me really want to love it. Since then, I have never been able to convince myself that anyone has ever been superior. Though I have heard every song that they ever recorded countless times, any listen to any of them just reassures how utterly perfect they were. The Beatles were not only endlessly innovative as a studio band, but they broke new ground and set the template for the self-contained, writing their own material rock group where each member had their unique, essential voice. John Lennon and Paul McCarenty in particular whether together or on their own wrote the best pop music, period. Working with each other and George Harrison and Ringo Star, (as well as producer George Martin vigorously assisting them), their songs and ideas vividly came to life and The Beatles never stop progressing throughout the eight years they recorded together. In only that amount of time they changed the world and influenced practically everybody. Still for me, nothing can touch Rubber Soul, Revolver, (The White Album), or Abbey Road, the four absolute best records in any genre ever.
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