(1964)
Dir - Ákos Ráthonyi
Overall: MEH
One starts to sound like a broken record when pointing out how so few low-budget, B-movies of the horror variety had any capacity whatsoever to pick up the damn pace. Hungarian director Ákos Ráthonyi's Cave of the Living Dead, (Der Fluch der grünen Augen, Night of the Vampires), is a criminal-level offender of this particular cinematic faux pas. In the hands of a skilled filmmaker who can propel their story without the use of a musical score and through sheer control of tone and mood, the results can be exceptional. In the case of Cave of the Living Dead, the mostly dialog-only soundtrack gives it a catastrophically lifeless flow. There are attempts at humor, sexual undertones, and issues of race are even touched upon, but the presentation is so comatose that they barely register. Likewise, a small handful of spooky, vampiric visuals are peppered throughout which look rather good on their own, but the film is almost entirely driven by very meandering and frequently embarrassing dialog as a skeptical, wise-ass detective investigates a small village full of superstitious folk, uncovering the goings on in the most tedious of manners.
(1967)
Dir - Emilio Vieyra
Overall: MEH
Argentine-born, exploitation director Emilio Vieyra's take on the vampire genre with Blood of the Virgins, (Sangre de vírgenes), is full of naked boobs, unconvincing fangs, no budget sets, agonizingly long scenes that serve no narrative purpose, and swinging music that evokes absolutely no fear whatsoever. So essentially, the usual checklist of Euro-horror cliches from the era. Outside of a rather nifty, animated opening title sequence, there is virtually no visual flair. The film is photographed incredibly bland with vampires walking around in fully lit rooms and crystal clear daylight. The only idea Vieyra seems to have to spice anything up is a couple red-light shots of a bird that is supposed to be a bat probably and of course a bag fool of zooms used as leisurely as possible. The script, (also by Vieyra), is uninspired enough to be borderline awful, with what seems like less set pieces than can be counted on one hand featuring any kind of undead activity in the first place. Instead, it is mostly just people slowly walking around, very, very slowly having sex, sitting around, talking to each other, driving, and then walking around slowly a few more times just to make sure enough slow walking around is caught on camera.
(1967)
Dir - Ernst Ritter von Theumer
Overall: MEH
Making foliage seem sinister on screen is quite an uphill battle. It is even worse when the budget is working against you and the best you can muster is a few close ups of rubbery branches and vines while victims simply stand there either transfixed or screaming, (but of course never moving an inch out of the way). This is not the only ailment that the Spanish-German co-production Maneater of Hydra, (La isla de la muerte, Island of the Doomed, and The Blood Suckers), suffers from. Very little suspense is mustered since the kill scenes come off not only as non-threatening as possible, but are also few and far between. The characters are all boring and poorly dubbed, none more than an elderly photographer with a Jewish accent that makes her sound absolutely ridiculous when she is delivering cryptic dialog or screaming hysterically about a murderer. Cameron Mitchell plays another cookie-cutter mad scientist who mutates man-eating plants for no reason, with a grand scheme involving being nice to his vacationing guests while waiting for them to get close enough to his malevolent shrubs to stand there and do nothing while they attack them. It is a dud from top to bottom and a B-movie wholly worthy of being laughed at, not with.
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