PSYCHED BY THE 4D WITCH
(1973)
Dir - Victor Luminera
Overall: MEH
Experimental occult smut, Psyched by the 4D Witch, (Psyched by the 4D Witch: A Tale of Demonology), is the only credited anything from director Victor Luminera and one must wonder what the intention was behind such head-scratching trash. An eighty minute montage with ADRed narration that explains the asinine story in unambiguous detail, it is a relic from the early 70s that embraces sexual hippy liberation, a sensationalized interest in groovy witchcraft, and a visual presentation that is pure counter-culture acid trip. One can think of it as a hybrid of Kenneth Anger's Invocation of My Demon Brother, J.X. William's The Virgin Sacrifice, and the Ed Wood-penned Orgy of the Dead, minus the mind-numbingly boring dance numbers of the latter. The dialog is hilarious as a horny girl-next-door in a bad wig invokes a demon that gives her orgasmic pleasure and various assignments, often by proclaiming the trigger phrase "Let's fantasy fuck now!" and breaking the spell by calling the demon a "Salem witch bitch". Visually and sonically though, it is a wild ride of surreal buffoonery, using an original theme song, avant sound effects, naked people, Halloween masks, and scratchy manipulated film stock. It becomes a chore to sit through after awhile, but it is also a mind-melting and incompetent bombardment on the senses that probably hits hard if the viewer is on copious amounts of edibles.
(1973)
Dir - Victor Luminera
Overall: MEH
Experimental occult smut, Psyched by the 4D Witch, (Psyched by the 4D Witch: A Tale of Demonology), is the only credited anything from director Victor Luminera and one must wonder what the intention was behind such head-scratching trash. An eighty minute montage with ADRed narration that explains the asinine story in unambiguous detail, it is a relic from the early 70s that embraces sexual hippy liberation, a sensationalized interest in groovy witchcraft, and a visual presentation that is pure counter-culture acid trip. One can think of it as a hybrid of Kenneth Anger's Invocation of My Demon Brother, J.X. William's The Virgin Sacrifice, and the Ed Wood-penned Orgy of the Dead, minus the mind-numbingly boring dance numbers of the latter. The dialog is hilarious as a horny girl-next-door in a bad wig invokes a demon that gives her orgasmic pleasure and various assignments, often by proclaiming the trigger phrase "Let's fantasy fuck now!" and breaking the spell by calling the demon a "Salem witch bitch". Visually and sonically though, it is a wild ride of surreal buffoonery, using an original theme song, avant sound effects, naked people, Halloween masks, and scratchy manipulated film stock. It becomes a chore to sit through after awhile, but it is also a mind-melting and incompetent bombardment on the senses that probably hits hard if the viewer is on copious amounts of edibles.
This straightforward spin on Gaston Leroux's often-filmed The Phantom of the Opera has the fortunate distinction of being shot on MGM's back lot which was being demolished at the time. The Phantom of Hollywood, (The Phantom of Lot 2), originally aired on CBS in February of 1974, eerily two years before Jack Cassidy died accidentally due to an apartment fire, here playing the titular phantom who is revealed to be a deranged former actor that was likewise burned in an accident on set. Cassidy hams it up to the heavens in a dual role and makes for a striking figure in medieval S&M gear, using vintage weapons in his quest to stop a movie studio from selling their spacious and unused back lot to make way for shopping centers and parking lots. The material has a poignancy to it, lamenting the bygone studio system era that was well into its death throws by the mid 1970s and Cassidy's madman exemplifies a melodramatic frustration with the shifting tides of the film industry. Veteran small screen director Gene Levitt keeps up a solid pace and the neglected outdoor studio setting provides an eerie atmosphere with its crumbling buildings and overgrown weeds devouring it. Silly in parts, but it takes itself seriously enough to still provide some tongue-in-cheek macabreness.
One of many Philippines-shot junk heaps from Roger Corman's production company, (not to mention one of several times that Corman tried to cash-in on Stephen Spielberg's Jaws by spending as little money as possible), Up from the Depths is moronic, cheap, lazy, and uninviting in equal measures. Director and Corman regular Charles B. Griffith siphoned-off the blame to his boss who he claimed hired an inexperienced screenwriter, a disinterested crew, and a rubber monster that looks like it was made by a blind child in third grade art class. Also according to Griffith, he originally intended on making a straight-faced action movie, then a comedy once he saw how awful the creature looked, (hence said creature only getting a few seconds of screen time), and then Corman edited it into a horror/comedy hybrid without his involvement. Whoever is to blame, the story is derivative and full of unlikable morons, none more so than Kedric Wolfe's pink suit-wearing resort manager who makes every impulsive move to not concern himself with a sea monster murdering people because it will hurt business, only to finally give in and announce a contest to kill the beast for the grand prize of some complimentary rum. Horrible dialog that is dubbed just as badly plus tonal issues for days do not help.
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