1970s Italian Horror Part Three

THE RED QUEEN KILLS SEVEN TIMES
(1972)
Dir - Emilio P. Miraglia
Overall: MEH

The final film by Emilio P. Miraglia, (who also made The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave the previous year), was yet another elaborately silly giallo made during the sub-genre's prime era.  Combining a ghostly legend straight out of any Gothic horror film and fusing it with a typically complex, "whodunit" premise posing practically every character we meet as a possible suspect, The Red Queen Kills Seven Times, (La dama rossa uccide sette volte), is especially difficult to follow even compared to most.  For one, it does not help that nearly every female in it looks exactly the same and one male character seems to be romantically involved with most of them which kind of makes you scratch your head regularly as to who the hell you are watching do what.  Naturally though, the killer reveal is even more head-scratching and involves switched identities, perplexing us even more as to who is who and supposed to be who else.  Miraglia and cinematographer Alberto Spagnoli thankfully save the film from being completely bland.  The first official kill scene is fantastically done, but also raises expectations that perhaps the supernatural details would be further emphasized before the movie switches into predictable mode and goes through the commonplace motions of people killing people over money and making them think ghosts are real and blah, blah, blah.

FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN
(1974)
Dir - Paul Morrissey
Overall: MEH

What can fairly be described as one of the dumbest movies ever made, Paul Morrissey's Flesh for Frankenstein was the first of two Italian scam productions along with Carlo Ponti that he made, (Blood for Dracula being the other also ridiculous one).  Antonio Margheriti was credited as a director in Italy due to some legal loopholes that needed to be bypassed and by all available accounts, Margheriti directed virtually nothing and same as "producer" Andy Warhol, was only on set one or two times tops.  Morrissey wrote dialog for his actors on the spot and the words spoken in this trash-fest are as ludicrous as they come, ("To know death Otto, you have to fuck life...in the gallbladder!" deserves its own standing ovation).  Udo Kier for whatever reason dove in, full-tilt and his is an exaggerated performance few can hold a candle to, one which single handedly saves the film from being a waste of time.  It is still ultimately a terrible movie due to the fact that Morrissey has not the skill to successfully parody either the European, Gothic horror movies nor the counterculture trash films that he himself was responsible for making.  It is unmistakably funny at times and as distasteful as anything from the time period ever got, yet it drags for large chunks, becoming more incompetently laughable than creatively in on its own joke.  I will say that the movie looks pretty excellent with the Baron's laboratory being effectively spacious and decorated.  Also, the gore is plenty eye-popping and gross.

BEYOND THE DARKNESS
(1979)
Dir - Joe D'Amato
Overall: MEH

Joe D'Amato was a shameless proprietor of sleaze throughout his career and Beyond the Darkness, (Buio Omega, In quella casa Buio omega), is his repugnant, gory, and utterly tasteless remake of Mino Guerrini's The Third Eye.  None of these adjectives that I am using to describe the man's work are meant to be defamatory by the way, but one would be misinformed to make the assumption that really any of his movies, (particularly this one), were made to be anything besides exploitative trash.  Allegedly, D'Amato told his actors on set "We're making a movie to make people throw up. We must make 'em vomit!", so the guy knew his trade and knew it well.  In the "eeewww" regard, this has a generous amount to offer.  A woman gorges on a human heart in a stew, (with extreme, food and slobber pouring out the mouth close-up and sound effects to boot!), a guy gets jerked off by his motherly housemaid who also feeds him her boobs to suckle on, she announces that they are going to get married, she then stabs him in the dick and rips his eye out before he bites her face off, and plenty of other women get tortured and mutilated in graphic fashion.  The ending which brings in a twin sister, (of all things), for no reason is fittingly ridiculous as well.  Goblin actually did the music for this one which is always appreciated, but it is still pretty much your typical keyboard-laced, occasionally funky, late 70s thriller/action movie score and nothing as bloodcurdlingly awesome as Suspiria.  Then again, what is?

A Tale of Two Nine Year Old Kiss Fans

A TALE OF TWO NINE YEAR OLD KISS FANS

There is never a dull moment in Kamp Kiss.  Is Kamp Kiss an authorized, official thing?  Like Kiss' own version of summer camp or the boy-scouts or some shit?  If not, Gene Simmons is asleep at the wheel there.

Yet anyway where was I?  Oh yes, for any member of the Kiss Army or even the casual rock fan, one is bound to notice the seemingly endless amount of drama revolving around this band that has been dressing up like horny superhero mimes and blowing shit up since since 1974.  Well, technically they took a break from the looking like mimes part for a few years but you know what I mean.  Wherever anything Kiss is concerned, there is plenty to talk about, be it past members being mad at each other, Kiss fans being mad at other Kiss fans, former Kiss fans being mad at other former Kiss fans, former Kiss fans being mad at current Kiss fans, or just whatever the fuck Vinnie Vincent is currently doing.  Again, the moments are never dull is what I am saying.

This fuckin' guy, amiright?

At this writing, Kiss is a month and some change into their End of the Road tour.  By all available logic to humankind, this will in fact be the last trek across the globe that the band will ever take before retiring at least that part of their business.  Whether we will get a Kiss 2.0, more DVDs, more new music, more new Kiss Koffins, a theatrically released documentary and/or biopic that is as historically inaccurate as Bohemian Rhapsody was are all to be determined.  Yeah Kiss says a lot of things, but they are also pushing seventy and one would imagine that there are only so many times that one can cry wolf so yes, I actually do believe them this time.

Because it is a three year tour that is hitting every city that they have ever played, maybe some others just to leave no stone un-turned, and well, because it is Kiss, this is a fairly big deal in the rock world.  It is also one that many parties are participating in getting some headlines out of.  Nikki Six and Tommy Lee have called Kiss out for stealing their own farewell tour stage, but those guys also have a biopic coming out on Netflix presently and have certainly learned a thing or two from Gene Simmons in that steadfast and true "say something stupid to get people talking" tactic.  So good for them.  Also good for Ace Frehley, (I mean his wife, girlfriend, pimp?), calling Gene and Paul out for still not wanting to work with him after twelve years of sobriety, nor including him in the farewell tour that he was never going to be included in to begin with and blah, blah, fuck blah.  Also of course, good for Vinnie Vincent for doing...your guess is as good as mine.

This fuckin' guy, (ma'am?), amiright?

Yet that is not what I am here to write about.  A quick scroll through my blog's archives will establish that I am rather a genuine Kiss fan to say the very least.  That being the case, it should not be surprising that I, A) have always played Kiss in the car when I have my kids with me and B) because of this or just because Kiss music is awesome, my kids have become Kiss fans.  Then because of THAT, I decided to take two of them that were at the rather ideal age, (nine), to go see the End of the Road tour in Chicago on Saturday, March 3rd of this year which also marked their very first concert experience ever.

I also want to say that while both of them being into Kiss was something I certainly paved the road for, they also took it upon themselves to be fans.  My oldest daughter digs the costumes and makeup, but honestly is not that big on their music while my two youngest can still kind of take or leave the band at this point.  The nine year olds though?  Different deal.  Several years ago my daughter started getting the small talk out of the way as quickly as possible when I would pick her up from school and instead get out with a "Dad, can we listen to Kiss?" in earnest.  This tradition is something that has not changed since.  Now that her and her brother are old enough to actually have fond memories of their first concert experience and both of them legit jumped up and down all excited-like when we told them they were going to this concert, I would say that it is a safe bet that they really are fans and have not just been playing a long con on me this whole time.  The evidence seems to support such a thing at least.

Oddly enough, this is the daughter that is NOT that big of a Kiss fan.

So yes, we went to see the End of the Road show which also happened to be the first time I had seen the band since the, (other), Farewell Tour in 2000.  Since then I honestly have not had a great desire to go to another Kiss concert.  This is where I wil start to get into details about what does not bother me about what Kiss has been doing since that time.  For one, I have not avoided seeing my favorite active band because two guys who are not Ace Frehley and Peter Criss are wearing their makeup.  That reality makes the most logical sense out of anything I can imagine.  I love Pete and I love Ace, but the former was and has always been a pain in the ass and possibly bipolar or something which is not a knock on him yet something he himself even admitted to in enough instances in his own autobiography Make Up to Break Up: My Life In and Out of Kiss.  On that note, Ace has until the last decade and some change been an active alcoholic and by his own account in his own autobiography No Regrets, has also always been a lazy, lazy man who expects to act like a rock star and usually cannot be bothered with such activities as say being on time to things or carrying his own gear ever.

So, Paul and Gene get a chance to resurrect their band, (which they never quit/got fired from btw), in the mid-nineties out of most likely finishing their career on the theater circuit like most classic rock era bands that are still going right?  They do this by launching a hugely successful, arena-filling reunion tour with the original members that surpasses even their expectations and permanently cements their place in pop culture as a household name, right?  So when Ace and Peter were basically being Ace and Peter like they always were, Gene and Paul then decided to move on without them and instead get two ridiculously reliable and competent yes men that were perfectly happy with their salaries and in the process, the band kept selling lots of tickets and remained in the public eye ,right?  Call it luck or crafty business tactics or whatever you want to but man, wise move there.

"So the show's at 8 PM sharp, I have to carry my own guitar, and can't drink any alcohol?  Sure thing Skip!" - (probably) Tommy Thayer

Me not going to see Kiss in the last eighteen years is because first and foremost, I love Kiss' music.  Whatever do I mean by that?  Well, the stage show is still as good as they get and the costumes and make-up and all that shit is certainly cool, but nearly all my favorite Kiss songs are ones that they do not touch live with a ten foot pole.  So my desire to see them play the same songs they had already been doing since the Reunion Tour more or less just was not something I was into.  I also have to point out though that I am simply not one of those "I have to see the bands I love every time they come to town guys" to begin with.  In my twenties I would make more of an effort but really, having kids, having bills, and having only so much disposable income or babysitters to rely on has limited what shows I make a priority to check out and which ones I do not.  Basically, if I have already seen it and it is still pretty much the same deal just with some new bombs or a costume change, I am good with the experiences that I have already had.  This is just me though.  People who see multiple shows a tour and see every tour that comes around no matter what the act, go you.  I can dig it, I just do not partake.

Seeing the End of the Road show this time therefor was almost entirely based on the fact that I had the chance to make two nine year olds very happy to see the band that for so many years have set the high standard of how amazing a live show can possibly be.  Also, they are a band that both of my kids legitimately loved even before they knew said band split blood, dropped confetti from the ceiling, or shot rockets out of their guitars.  Like me, my kids like Kiss' music and that was basically it.  Besides a few YouTube videos, (mostly from the 80s because I have learned em that everything Paul sang in that decade was better than anything any band has ever done), my kids really did not know anything about "The Kiss show".  Especially once I knew this final tour was around the corner, I started to make it a point NOT to play them any of the Kissologies, documentaries or really anything beyond just giving them a bunch of my old Kiss pictures that decorated my room when I was in jr. high and high school.  I wanted them to see it in person and get that very rare experience in the information age to actually get something close to "blown away" by what they saw.

So I essentially wanted my kids to pull a Ted Theodore Logan.

Besides them never being exposed to anything so loud before, (yes I had them wear earplugs), and getting a little uncomfortable during the middle of the set, my kids had a remarkable time.  My daughter raised up the horns and danced around like a goofball for large parts of it and her eyes noticeably widened when they played her favorite Kiss song "I Was Made for Loving You", the smile on my son's face never left him, (oh and he was the only one who wore any make up, my daughter chickening out last minute), and both of them clapped when Paul told them to and ran around like mad afterwards grabbing confetti off the floors to take home.

On the other hand, they did not jump up and down like maniacs, (we were in the upper nosebleeds which anyone who has been to the United Center can attest to are rather steep and not meant for such excitable concert-going behavior), they did not sing along, they did not leave the show saying how they were going to form their own band, and they were quick to get back to talking about other things nine year olds talk about, (Minecraft and Fortnite mostly).  Yet that is alright.  For me to say I was disappointed because they were not speechless after the show or so ecstatically into it during the show as to faint like teenage girls watching The Beatles in 1964 would be ridiculous.  My kids became Kiss fans from listening to my favorite deep cut Kiss songs in the car and then after seeing them, they said they absolutely loved it and I believe them.

Pictured: Not my nine year olds.

So this is what I am writing all this about.  There are a handful of fans, ex-fans, whatever you want to call it fans that are not in the position I am nor have the mindset that I have which is their right and totally cool.  They can say any grown men are morons who "wanna be twelve again", do not care about the lip-singing, think there is no lip-singing, do not care about the different guys in make-up, do not care about the set list not being whatever, do not care about Kiss being so old now that they cannot run around and do high kicks on stage anymore, do not care about the price of the VIP meet and greets, do not care that Paul's stage raps are the same as they ever were, do not care that Gene and Paul are hypocrites, and do not care that the band should have packed it in seventeen years ago.  Go for it.  Say what you like, argue what you like, buy what Kiss products you like or do not, it is all good and it is all cool.  Personally, I like listening to Kiss music because it is my favorite music.  Personally I am thrilled that Kiss did NOT pack it in a decade and a half ago, instead sticking around until Paul's voice was shot, Gene's too out of shape to move around on stage, and Ace and Peter are either butt-hurt or in-different that they are not involved.

You know why I am thrilled?  Because I got to take my two nine year olds to see their first concert which just so happens to be of a band that both they and I love to listen to and now, love to watch.  Once this is over, a tribute band will be the best we can do and if you think that sounds better and would be a preferable experience for a nine year old because it has "more integrity" and is actually100% live or what the fuck ever, great, who is to argue?  I for one am glad that I got to take them to see Gene and Paul plus two other guys that they do not even care are not the original guys play songs that they know and love. For the rest of their life whenever anyone asks em what their first concert was, they will both have the same answer.  They will also both add that "it was awesome".  That is why I am happy to be a Kiss fan and that is why I do not care about all of the drama in the Kiss world.  Bitch about it, draw your line where you like, accept it, or laugh at it like I do and vote with your wallet like we all do.  If Ace and Peter were in Kiss, if I got to pick the set list and take out virtually everything in it, if Paul's voice was still godlike and as incredible as it was in his prime, if the band could still move around like athletes, if, if, if.  Kiss is their own band and they can run it however they want and if I was too preoccupied with not enjoying it for all of the reasons I can find, then you know what?  I would have missed this moment with two of my spawn; a moment that I and they will always remember.

Thank you Kiss.  Glad as always to give you my money.

1970s Foreign Horror Part Six

JONATHAN
(1970)
Dir - Hans W. Geißendörfer
Overall: MEH

There is a thin line between being too smart for your audience and just being pretentious because you can.  Hans W. Geißendörfer's debut film Jonathan, (which was also the first that famed cinematographer Robby Müller worked on), rides this line rather consistently.  While certainly flawed, it is anything but uninteresting.  Geißendörfer and Müller shoot nearly every scene in very long, slow, one-take panning shots and the behavior of every character is so bizarre that not much of anything the frame lingers on will compute much.  A bunch of villagers surround and stare comatose-like at a couple having sex in a barn, a man is kicked nearly to death for no decipherable reason, a priest and a shoe-less alter boy pray in a dilapidated church and then the boy sets fire to a large haystack, a flock of children appear out of nowhere and dance around whilst singing, a guy wakes up to a woman boning him and they just kind of lay there silent afterwards, and vampire women in red and white robes hover around a Count who is clearly a stand-in for Hitler.  The lumbering pace gets a bit much and the metaphoric elements of "vampires = the Third Reich" do not really go anywhere beyond obvious surface level, but there are more than enough curious and strange ingredients that complemen this as an art film with no agenda to tell a coherent story.

NIGHT OF FEAR
(1972)
Dir - Terry Bourke
Overall: MEH

Yawn.  The major/only plus side to Night of Fear, (which was originally commissioned as a potential pilot by the Australian Broadcasting Company for a television show called Fright), is that it is only fifty-minutes long.  Not that it needs to be any longer than that to quickly put you to sleep.  Written and produced by Rod Hay and directed by Terry Bourke, the concept is somewhat interesting as a down under version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre with no character names and no dialog.  Yet all that it ends up being is nearly an hour of a grunting hermit slowly stalking women and then ripping at their clothes to unleash rats on them.  Seriously, that is it and then the credits role.  There is a clear attempt here to be experimental with the slasher format and to up the disturbing elements so it gets an "OK" for effort at least.  There are a couple of somewhat nightmare scenes that are visually rather macabre enough as well.  It is horrendously boring though to sit through, beginning and ending by solely showcasing the most boring part about slasher movies in general which is just the stupid cat and mouse chase.  It is nearly impossible to see it as anything except very forgettable.

RITUALS
(1977)
Dir - Peter Carter
Overall: MEH

Canada's answer to John Boorman's Deliverance was Rituals, a film that is unmistakably derivative as well as unfortunately wrought with illogical slasher troupes and obnoxious characters.  In some respects, Ian Sutherland's script works to make the group of doctors that are hunted and marooned in the Ontario wilderness rather fully formed.  There is a fair amount of screen time given to them arguing with each other in both playful and overly dramatic ways and their comradery early on does appear to be genuine.  As the tension wracks up though, the endless yelling and bitching between them starts to get grating on the senses and though it is clearly done to make the audience feel uncomfortable along with the people on the screen, this along with the movie's other shortcomings rear their ugly head.  It is too generous of a leap for us to take with yet another scenario of a deranged mountain man playing cat and mouse with people.  When does this guy sleep?  How is he such a criminal mastermind as to be seven steps ahead of them at all times?  Are we to believe what we are told that he is so vengeful and diabolical as to justify him not murdering them easily when he has constant chances?  While Peter Carter's direction is at times very atmospheric and the barren landscape is perfectly matched with the hopeless plight of the parties involved, it still lacks the necessary plausibility to truly connect.  Also the music is for the most part awful and sappy and as is unfortunately common, not enough scenes play out to disturbing silence as they should.

1970s Foreign Horror Part Five

CANNIBAL GIRLS
(1973)
Dir - Ivan Reitman
Overall: MEH

Ivan Reitman's second feature Cannibal Girls sounds quite promising on paper.  SCTV members Eugene Levy and Andrea Martin are on board and both Reitman and producer/co-writer Daniel Goldberg have enough noteworthy films on their resume to assume that this early one would be worth one's time.  Sadly though, this is not the case.  Cannibal Girls rides that difficult line of parody, but many things get in the way of making the tone shifts work.  It plays out more like a Herschell Gordon Lewis movie that is trying to be funny yet is not.  Much of the dialog appears to be improvised and the camera lingers on nearly every scene much longer than it should, dragging the pace down considerably.  Worse yet, hardly anything anyone says is all that funny and the plot is terribly structured.  The premise is top notch, but it actually would have worked far better as a straight horror film where the long, silent shots and the concept of a bizarre, friendly Canadian town being up to no good would make for a thoroughly creepy, would-be end result.  Instead, these aspects just jive poorly with the humor that falls flat and the editing that makes the film confusing..  It is a noble effort, but all of the talent involved would go on to much better works later on.

THE CARS THAT ATE PARIS
(1974)
Dir - Pete Weir
Overall: MEH

The first feature film to be written and directed by Pete Weir, (not counting the fifty-two minute Homesdale from 1971), was The Cars That Ate Paris; a curiously titled, positively odd work to be sure.  Set in the fictional, rural town of Paris somewhere in Australia, (adding to the confusion since one would assume Paris, France), the movie plays out like a subtle black comedy with noticeably visual similarities with the Mad Max franchise, (and even also stars Bruce Spence who has made a career out of being a goofy looking character actor).  Yet instead of being post-apocalyptic, it is another kind of small town horror where an unwholesome doings are transpiring and this little hotbed of sinister activity seems to exist by rules that are all its own.  It does not quite work as well as it should since the motivations of various characters remains too obscure.  Though this was probably done on purpose, it is rather difficult to grasp who is in league with who and the only unmistakable theme is a vague, "elders vs the youth" one that does not really get explored beyond surface level.  Main protagonist Arthur Waldo, (Terry Camilleri), is just kind of lost in all the goings on, being sheepishly uncomfortable throughout.  While at least his final fate is humorous, that of the rest of Paris seems rather randomly open-ended.

NOSFERATU THE VAMPYRE
(1979)
Dir - Werner Herzog
Overall: GREAT

Out of the innumerable Dracula films out there and the several dozen that adapt Bram Stoker's original novel, few are as utterly superb as Werner Herzog's Nosferatu the Vampyre, (Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht).  To be specific, this is a deliberate homage to the F.W. Murnau silent film Nosferatu, one which Herzog has gone on record as saying is the single greatest German film ever made.  He is probably not wrong.  For his take on it, Herzog once again works with Klaus Kinski and the electronic band Popol Vuh and the results are nearly as spellbinding as their initial collaboration Aguirre, the Wrath of God.  Utilizing footage shot in Mexico, Czechoslovakia, and the Netherlands and filming two versions simultaneously, (one with the actors speaking in German, the other in English), Herzog spends comparatively little of his time on dialog here, instead letting his camera capture the beautiful, the grotesque, and the bizarre all in equal, lush measures.  This creates an atmosphere that is extraordinarily haunting from beginning to end.  Kinski's Count Dracula is more pathetic than usually depicted and all of the barren, soft gloomy shots of rat-laden city streets and the Carpathian mountains further emphasize his loneliness, one that literally spreads like the plague by the film's end.  It may be the most visually striking Dracula film ever made and another paramount example of what Herzog and Kinski with their powers combined were wonderfully able to accomplish.

1970s Foreign Horror Part Four

THE DEVIL'S NIGHTMARE
(1971)
Dir - Jean Brismée
Overall: GOOD

Slow in parts and if you are watching the English dubbed version, be prepared of course to unintentionally chuckle at how awful the dialog comes off, but the Belgium/Italian co-production The Devil's Nightmare, (The Devil's Longest Night, The Terrifying Night of the Demon, and The Devil Walks at Midnight), gets by just enough on its spooky atmosphere and fun, be it simple premise.  All of the avenues that the plot takes are pretty standard and foreseeable as the characters are more caricatures than anything, each meeting their doom while somewhat representing one of the seven deadly sins, which is highly convenient for the evil forces that are after them.  Yet director Jean Brismée does a mostly fine job of staging everything in a memorable way, whether it is uncomfortable closeups of gluttony, brutal murders by way of medieval torture devices, random lesbians for some reason, and subtle, creepy make-up design.  Most of the performances come off either too stiff or silly, but Daniel Emilfork and Erika Blanc still manage to be appropriately ghoulish in their respected, sinister roles.  The musical score for once is actually rather strong as well, probably because it is from the hilariously named Alessandro Alessandroni, the man behind the iconic, "Man with No Name" trilogy soundtrack.

THE RAT SAVIOR
(1976)
Dir - Krsto Papić
Overall: GOOD

One of the few, (only?), Croatian horror films out there, Izbavitelj, (The Rat Savior), was based off of Russian author Alexander Grin’s 1920’s novel Pacolovac, which translates to "The Ratcatcher".  Made on a very modest budget and shot in the country's capital of Zareb, it plays out as a creepy fairytale with excellent similarities to Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Society, or any other "what is this large group of people up to?" type fare.  The movie is not particularly shocking or even that violent while being less of a mystery in general and more of a moody, politically-conscious, extreme fantasy where the social commentary can likewise remind one of George Orwell's 1984 amongst other things.  The Rat Savior is also pretty void of humor and not at any point does it treat itself in any kind of tongue in cheek way.  This is a plus and a testament to Krsto Papić's wise direction which builds up a level of dread while still successfully glossing over many details, briskly moving the film along, (it is less than a hour and a half), letting the minimalist make-up effects never come off as silly, and not letting any hammy performances get in the way.

THIRST
(1979)
Dir - Rod Hardy
Overall: MEH

One of the stranger vampire films to come out of the 1970s, (saying something), Rod Hardy's full-length debut Thirst is an interesting, partially successful combination of Soylent Green and any film where the main protagonist cannot seem to wake up from their nightmare nor be able to tell whether they are tripping balls or not.  The set-up is certainly interesting and carries the movie through most of its deficiencies.  These would be the score by Brian May, (no not THAT Brian May), which rarely shuts up long enough to not tell us when something evil is going on.  Also, the kind of underwritten plot leaves out too many details for its own good.  Ambiguity can very often times be a plus in horror films, but Thirst does not necessarily give off the aura of mystery that it needs in order to complement the lack of answers that we are given.  It just seems kind of "buh?" instead.  The ending in particular is structured like it is supposed to be a twist, but there is a lingering feeling that several things may not have been conveyed like they were supposed to, making the wrap-up unsatisfying.  Some of the performances are rather eerie and Australian soap opera star Chantal Contouri is excellent as the tormented lead with a diabolical lineage, but it is still a shame that the movie comes so close to pulling off its wacky premise only to fall just shy of such an accomplishment.

1970s Foreign Horror Part Three

DIABEL
(1972)
Dir - Andrzej Żuławski
Overall: MEH

This politically conscious, nasty art film Diabel, (The Devil), from Andrzej Żuławski was his second overall and helped set the template for excited characterizations from his cast as well as overt violence and sexual deviance.  With nigh an exception, every character seems to uncontrollably contort their body in extravagant spasms and with the whole thing beginning with the, (probably), title character freeing the main protagonist from a completely overrun insane asylum during the 18th century, Prussian invasion of Poland, it could be logically assumed that the entire movie is an intentionally bewildering allegory of some sort.  If not, then it is just a bunch of miserable, awful set pieces meant only to make you loathe humanity and be uncomfortable, (Lars von Trier probably saw this and got such an idea for his entire career).  There are certainly movies more strange and many others more unwholesome, but the lengthy running time and deliberate incoherence does indeed make it all a steady bummer to sit through after awhile.  Żuławski shoots much of it in frantic, hand-held, long takes that while impressive, likewise serve their purpose to make the viewer rather distressed in their seat.  The bleak cinematography does a similar trick that if anything else, also makes the harsh tone thoroughly consistent.

BLACK CHRISTMAS
(1974)
Dir - Bob Clark
Overall: MEH

POV shots, a cat and mouse sensibility, and the picking off of young, attractive college girls are some of the more future-frequented elements in Bob Clark's seminal Black Christmas that would occasionally be done better but usually far, far, far worse in the coming decades.  Clark was already an established horror maestro with Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things and Deathdream directly proceeding this and the future Porky's and A Christmas Story director infused a liberal amount of humor to A. Roy Moore's script, which works in some instances while not in others.  Margot Kidder and Marian Waldman make excellent drunks, but the "fellatio" gag happens two times too many and goes on for too long in both instances.  Olivia Hussey is hit or miss as the final girl as some of her dialog and delivery steps too far into high school play territory, but the ambiguous ending and Carl Zitter's strange, ambient piano banging "music" are excellent touches.  By being a slasher film though, Black Christmas does too many things insultingly wrong.  If the screaming calls are coming from inside of the house, (and at least once happening when a loud murder is actually taking place), how in the fuck would the person on the other line not notice it is inside the house?  Nobody is going to check the attic at the end even when you can see a fucking dead body through the window from outside?  Also Hussey's character does the textbook, excruciatingly aggravating thing of not getting the fuck out of harm's way when every shred of conceivable logic would make anybody do so.  Oh, and one of the all time worst horror cliches of cops not taking anybody seriously rears its ugly head as well, though at least that latter detail is poked fun at within the film.  Still, putting it there in the first place does everything to take you out of the experience, as so many of these slasher faux pas commonly do.  Also the movie is honestly pretty boring since it just revolves around waiting for the phone to ring to hear some incomprehensible gibberish and screaming.

LONG WEEKEND
(1978)
Dir - Colin Eggleston
Overall: GREAT

One may find Colin Eggleston's first non-softcore porno movie Long Weekend to be a bit of blatantly on-the-nose silliness.  You may also be caught up in what does NOT happen to the point of being genuinely captivated.  From the get go, the two person cast are as unlikable as you get, deliberately so.  Not only are they in a clearly dysfunctional relationship with each other, both switching wildly from being aggressively whimsical to almost psychotically angry and distant with each other, but their disregard for all things nature is given frequent examples.  They haphazardly chop down trees for no reason, run over animals, shoot off ammunition into the wilderness, spray pesticide to the point of murdering any organic lifeform within miles, smash eagle eggs, and leave garbage and food lying around.  Yet what begins to transpire all around them is quite gradual to the point where something fantastical is clearly at play, but it is given no specifics at any point.  Eggleston and first time non-TV screenwriter Everett De Roche take a lot of opportunities to insinuate that this will be another out of countless "people get murdered by a bunch of creepy locals while on vacation" movies so when it does not go that route, an applause at the very least is in order.  Even as a nature horror film, it also forgoes just having a giant animal or something ala Jaws spring up and reek havoc so in effect, it plays a much more creepy, bewildering game.  With a more fractured tone or less visceral performances from its two leads, Long Weekend could easily be a failure but instead it is one of the more refreshing tweaks to the horror film out there.

1970s Paul Naschy Part Five

EL JORABADO DE LA MORGUE
(1972)
Dir - Javier Aguirre
Overall: MEH

While it is true that Paul Naschy was rarely better as an actor than he was as the deformed, simpleton title character Gotho in El Jorabado de la Morgue, (The Hunchback of the Morgue, The Rue Morgue Massacres), Naschy's own script for the film in all honesty is exasperatingly stupid.  Particularly, the movies that Naschy himself wrote, (this one included), always hilariously have women falling head over heels in love with him, but the excuse he makes here is more bananas than usual.  Speaking of bananas, the mad Dr. Orla is comically narcissistic and goes from a normal scientist to one that makes excited speeches about how wonderful his creation is with zero concern for how many people he consistently convinces Nashy's hunchback to murder.  Those who help him with all of this nonsense come off even more dumb.  If you are already planning on turning the guy in to the authorities and are practically positive that he has either kidnapped or murdered your fiance, why would you go to his lair unarmed and confront him before calling the police?  It is certainly amusing to watch all of this play out and the film is plenty gory.  It even manages to throw in a torture chamber, a totally unexplained zombie for one scene, and an oozy goo monster.  Very peculiarly, the editing is virtually void of any establishing shots and as it goes along, the movie seems to be in a frantic hurry to be over with.  At least you cannot complain that the pacing drags then.

EL MARSHALL DEL INFERNO
(1974)
Dir - León Klimovsky
Overall: MEH

Based rather vaguely off the Baron Gilles de Rais of France, (who fought alongside Joan of Arc and then far less respectably died as a confessed child murderer, oops), El Marshall del Inferno is far more a historical action film than horror and not much better off because of it.  Translated to The Marshall from Hell and released internationally as The Devil's Possessed as well as Satan Possessed in Argentina, Naschy teams up once again with his frequent collaborator León Klimovsky, but the result does not generate much interest for anyone outside of the steadfast Naschy fan.  There are a few scenes of diabolical rituals and torture, but Naschy's character from the get-go is rather lazily duped by his conniving wife and her alchemist who far too easily trick him into spending years murdering innocent villagers, former allies, and then sacrificing their daughters to the point of a revolt that does him in.  Because Naschy's Barron is too pathetic and underwritten, he is never given any proper depth as to why he goes so insane.  Even after he finds out that he is being played for a sucker, the movie still goes on for twenty more minutes with him acting just as horribly to everyone.  Lots of screen time is dedicated to Guillermo Bredeston being a dashing hero rallying the townsfolk and it is just as lackluster to sit through as everything else.

EXORCISMO
(1975)
Dir - Juan Bosch
Overall: GOOD

Though it remains unconfirmed whether or not Paul Naschy did indeed pen the script for Exorcismo before The Exorcist was released as the actor always proclaimed, in either respect it is impossible not to compare it to the most famous horror movie ever made and in effect see it as the Spanish "answer" to it.  If it was simply a coincidence, (or if in fact Naschy had caught wind of William Peter Blatty's novel for inspiration himself), it is a pretty remarkable one.  There are plenty of details that are quite different though, such as but not limited to the girl possessed being much older than twelve-year old Linda Blair, the serial killer subplot, scenes of hippies conducting nude Satanic masses, and Naschy's Father Dunning is a much stronger-willed, straight good priest to Jason Miller's conflicted Father Damien Karras.  In any event, this is one of Naschy's better scripts by a mile and it successfully transcends being an exploitative knock-off.  The concept of an upper-class young woman succumbing to possession after her father suffered mental illness and then falling into drugged-out occultists, (with a perverted house servant, overbearing brother, and an over-dotting mother not particularly of any help), is plenty layered.  Director Juan Bosch never once lets the film stride anywhere near camp, keeping the music and tone perfectly in unsettling check.  The only complaint really is the somewhat ho-hum finale, but it is solid enough up until then to still warrant it as one of Nashy's all around better movies.