(1970)
Dir - David Durston
Overall: GOOD
"Let it be known sons and daughters that Satan was an acid head. Drink from his cup, pledge yourselves, and together we'll all freak out!". This line from the opening of David Durston's somewhat legendarily bad exploitation romp I Drink Your Blood sets the laughably profane tone, a tone that is maintained throughout. On paper, the Manson Family/David Cronenberg's Rabies/I Spit on Your Grave/Night of the Living Dead with a small dose of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre hybrid is pretty ridiculous and coupled with the cast of non-actors, paper-thin budget, and all around amateur production values, it is hardly a work to take too seriously. Meant to appall and successful at doing so, (at least for a turn of the 70s audience), the garish fun pops up at regular intervals. It is a film who's limitations and bad taste are precisely the ingredients that enhance its viewability. Though not a masterpiece even by grindhouse standards, as a hilariously dated and consistently messy, violent, and outrageous shock-fest, it suffices quite well.
(1973)
Dir - Jerrold Freedman
Overall: WOOF
This staggeringly comatose TV movie from Jerrold Freedman takes an often tested and true formula of people experiencing unexplained occurrences while isolated in extreme weather conditions and then almost recklessly wares the audience down with the presentation. Originally airing on January 30th as the ABC Movie of the Week and staring prolific character/television actors Eli Wallach and Robert Culp, A Cold Night's Death, (The Chill Factor), is repetitive to quite a fault. After a painfully boring set up exploring an abandoned research center for what seems like seven hours, the rest of the film is one argument after another between the two leads who can't agree as to whether or not supernatural tomfoolery is going down. As far as whatever else is happening, such a thing is anyone's guess. With such stagnant direction, the poorly constructed plot becomes even more noticeable. An absolute monotonous slog to watch, any would-be brooding atmosphere or tension fails to connect and the whole ordeal is quite consistently forgettable.
(1979)
Dir - Arthur Hiller
Overall: MEH
A notorious, critically crucified bomb upon release, Nightwing remains a bizarre curiosity for awful movie buffs. Bizarre in the fact that it has several problems right out of the trainwreck cinema playbook, but is also flatly and seriously presented. This juxtaposition of traits makes it both worse and more interesting that it otherwise would be. The performances are primarily sincere and director Arthur Hiller, (who had no previous experience in the horror genre and it shows), is incapable of creating a properly foreboding atmosphere. Tone-wise then, it's detrimentally bland, which make the lousy screenplay and incredibly laughable visual effects that much more jarring. It fails to make the concept of vampire bats either menacing or interesting and framed around vague, Native American spiritualism, it would be embarrassing if it wasn't so lackluster. If the film went for more of a bombastic and ridiculous approach, it would be a hoot. Instead, it is more of a whimper.
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