(1970)
Dir - Gilbert W. Taylor
Overall: WOOF
The Canuxploitation crud rock Dr. Frankenstein on Campus, (Flick), is notable as the first horror movie to be funded by the Canadian Film Development Corporation, but even for historical purists, it is a regrettable watch. Director Gilbert W. Taylor's only full-length, it is less concerned with adhering to any bullet points from Marry Shelley's source material than it is in offering up top-to-bottom obnoxious characters engaging in some of the most laughable protests imaginable, like how the University of Toronto wants to get a new computer. That is not an exaggeration. Fusing no-budget counter culture trash with horror was plenty the rage across many continents at the turn of the 1970s, but Taylor's Canadian spin on such an idea is as lifeless as it is unprofessional and embarrassing. Robin Ward is easily the worst character in screen history to have the Frankenstein name; a pompous, smirking brat who somehow does not get punched in the face by everyone that he meets. We are treated to endless hippie banter, terrible rock music, and at about an hour in, Ward's title character finally does something mad scientist related by getting his moronic friends to drink clearly laced alcohol and then he mind controls them. There is a twist ending that throws any sense of logic to the wind and about the only amusing part is when a toy Frankenstein monster shows up, which Ward of course stomps on because as Johnathan Banks would say, "What an asshole".
(1972)
Dir - Eddie Romero
Overall: MEH
The final horror film from Filipino director Eddie Romero, The Twilight People, (Island of the Twilight People), brings The Island of Dr. Moreau and The Dangerous Game together in lackluster fashion. As was always the case with these movies, putting John Ashley in the lead is a colossal mistake and his lack of emoting abilities are as steadfast as ever. Captured by Charles Macaulay's mad scientist/Dr. Moreau stand-in, Ashley witnesses violence, grisly medical experiments, and several human-animal monstrosities without changing his blank facial expression like he is lost in mundane thought while putting on his socks. His performance is hilariously wooden to some degree, but it mostly just contributes to Romero's usual brand of lifeless direction. The movie is a combination of overly talky and overly walky, with the plot stopping cold in the third act so that the characters can just hide and hunt in the jungle without having to say much to each other. On the plus side though, some of the bestially make-up is a hoot and Pam Grier is spottable under such a guise for those with a keen eye, but this is otherwise an arduous watch and one of several Philippines-set cheapies with little going for it.
(1975)
Dir - Leonardo Favio
Overall: MEH
Though evocative and stylized, Leonardo Favio's Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf, (Nazareno Cruz y el lobo, las palomas y los gritos, The Love of the Wolf), ultimately gets lost in its own poetic lumbering. An adaptation of the Paraguayan Luison myth of the seventh son of a family being cursed as a lycanthrope, it weaves in the Devil and an overarching theme of choosing love over safety and riches. While the narrative is a timeless tragedy that works as a dark fairy tale, Favio's presentation is a mixed bag of arthouse whimsy and monotony. Much of the dialog is repetitive, scenes linger on to the point of indulgence, some of the characterizations become irksome, (including a cackling hag in the last act that never shuts the hell up), and the musical score only utilizes a small handful of motifs, all of which makes it a cumbersome watch at times. Also, the "werewolf" is just a black German Sheppard, but to the film's credit, this is hardly going for brutal, Paul Naschy-adjacent set pieces. Juan José Camero turns in an intense performance in the doomed lead, plus Juan José Stagnaro's camerawork stays inventive throughout, capturing aggressive winds and the folkish locale in an intense fashion that is lovely to look at if not entirely engrossing.
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