70's Italian Horror Part Eight

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SOLANGE?

(1972)

Dir - Massimo Dallamano

Overall: MEH

A properly atmospheric giallo from filmmaker Massimo Dallamano and his follow-up to the British co-production remake Dorian Gray, What Have You Done to Solange?, (Cosa avete fatto a Solange?, Das Geheimnis der grünen Stecknadel), is leisurely in the pacing department and tonally dire, but these are not inherently bad attributes.  Itself a co-production with West Germany and falsely listed in the credits as being an Edgar Wallace adaptation to link it to the krimi sub-genre of exploitation movies, the film's shock value comes in the form of the killer's brutal, vagina-stabbing tendencies which are shown within the very first scene.  Revolving around back-alley abortions and sexually promiscuous college girls involved in a hedonistic club, one may think that such material would be dealt with in a more sleazy fashion than it is.  By treating the subject manner more respectfully then, Dallamano creates a sombre atmosphere that is more graceful than classy, yet it also differentiates the movie from countless others of its kind which is either a good or a bad thing depending on the giallo enthusiast looking for typically tasteless, misogynistic, and red-herring fueled silliness.  As the tragic title character, this also marks the screen debut of Camille Keaton who of course made quite the career out of playing horrendously victimized leading ladies.

 

A BLACK RIBBON FOR DEBORAH

(1974)

Dir - Marcello Andrei

Overall: MEH

 

Though not without some effective atmosphere, A Black Ribbon for Deborah, (Un fiocco nero per Deborah, The Torment), is hardly the most gripping, contemporary-set, supernatural horror film that Italy produced.  Co-writer/director Marcello Andrei had only a sporadic career behind the lens before this, his first movie on the 1970s and his lone offering in the horror genre. Allegedly, the script had been sitting around for a decade before it was ultimately made, with a total of four screenwriters getting their hands on the material and according to Giuseppe Pulieri, it was mangled in its finished form.  Wherever the blame lies, the resulting movie has Euro scream queen Marina Malfatti as a troubled woman who cannot physically have children, that is until she finds herself pregnant after being involved in a car accident that proved fatal for another would-be mother who was carrying child.  Things play out predictably from there with her husband growing increasingly frustrated at both the improbability of the situation and with the fact that his lovely wife refuses to partake of any hanky panky with him.  Gripping set pieces are few and far between, but the final ghostly showdown is chilling enough under the circumstances at least.

RING OF DARKNESS

(1979)

Dir - Pier Capri

Overall: MEH

 

The 1970s sure had its share of Satanic trash that was especially pumped out after The Exorcist and The Omen made all of the money at the box office.  Writer/director Pier Capri's Ring of Darkness, (Un'ombra nell'ombra, Satan's Wife), is a blatant knock-off of the aforementioned The Omen, with Lara Wendel serving as the Damien stand-in, here named Daria which is close enough.  The film opens with a goofy, candlelit occult dance featuring women in white robes, but the majority of what follows bypasses the expected overt sleaze and just has Wendel acting like a complete asshole for nearly ninety-minutes.  This is hardly the actor's fault as her character is given no other personality traits besides "teenage brat who thinks she knows everything", so she just talks back to the adults, stares everyone down as if she is going to deck them in the face, and arrogantly smugs around in full awareness that she is the child of Lucifer or some adjacent equivalent thereof.  The details are hazy and it all has something to do with an unwilling coven of witches who pissed off their master apparently, leaving them at the mercy of John Phillip Law making a cameo as a corrupt priest who unsuccessfully tries to exorcise whatever evil mojo is making Wendel such an annoying jerk.  At least the synth musical score by Stelvio Cipriani is fun and creepy though.

70's Spanish Horror Part Twelve

THE BUTCHER OF BINBROOK

(1971)

Dir - Miguel Madrid

Overall: MEH

There is a lot going on in Miguel Madrid's The Butcher of Binbrook, (Necrophagus, Graveyard of Horror); too much in fact, which makes its silliness increase tenfold as things plow along.  Formulaic, Euro-horror nonsense is present such as the same tiny handful of stock musical cues played over and over again, said musical cues popping up arbitrarily and being cut off at a dime due to the slap-dash editing, American dubbing that makes every performance preposterously melodramatic, shady family members held up in a creepy castle, a greedy/physically unappealing graveyard keeper, (good ole lazy-eyed Víctor Israel), loosey-goosey scientific experiments, blaring noises showing up every time that a different character enters a room, a deformed monster that looks like a child made his mask out of rubber and plastic, plus more camera zooms than Willie Nelson has blunts.  Madrid's story is hilariously convoluted as if he had a quota to meet by throwing in so many characters and schemes as to leave the audience on the edge of their seat instead of howling at how nonsensical it all is.  Some weird moments are produced here or there though and when the awful music shuts the hell up, Madrid can build a mild level of suspense with creepy noises and startling scenery.

 

THE SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE

(1973)

Dir - Victor Erice

Overall: GOOD

 

The debut from the highly sporadic filmmaker Victor Erice The Spirit of the Beehive, (El espíritu de la colmena), is a renowned work in Spanish cinema and one that very tenderly portrays dread through childlike imagination.  Sneaking past the Francoist censors by way of exclusively subtle symbolism towards the right wing government, it is no accident that the film is set at the tail end of the Spanish Civil War where a small, well-to-do family in a remote, countryside village go about their existence with a barely penetrable aura of melancholy.  As the adults seem preoccupied with nostalgic longings, their two children are brought up in a world of poisonous mushrooms, deserting soldiers, and sporadic visits from a traveling movie theater company whose showing of James Whale's seminal, 1931 Frankenstein casts a particularly potent spell on the youngest, played wonderfully by seven year old Ana Torrent.  Erice's tone is incredibly deliberate; very little happens in the film yet the viewer still feels that the younger characters could be in danger at any moment, if not from death, than from some sort of mental vulnerability.  Those familiar with the subdued, arthouse presentation will feel much more at home here than genre hounds who are clamoring for immediate reveals, but it is quite beautiful stuff in any capacity.

 

BEATRIZ

(1976)

Dir - Gonzalo Suárez

Overall: MEH

 

Moody with fittingly subdued performances and a somewhat aloof narrative, Beatriz is a less sensationalized bit of Euro-trash than most.  Director Gonzalo Suárez and screenwriter Santiago Moncada adapt Ramón del Valle-Inclán's story "Beatriz y Mi hermana Antonia" about a Countess' home invaded by a witch's curse, a mysterious Friar, and rapist bandits.  The supernatural elements are underplayed as a servant girl sacrifices the soul of her Lady's daughter, (the title character played by Sandra Mozarowsky who is oddly not the main focus), which are inconclusively portrayed to be the work of the Devil.  It has the usual exploitation elements of women being nonchalantly abused, coupled with religious dogma taken as factual by vulnerable people in such a period, isolated setting.  It is difficult to grasp the movie's themes though as it never lands anywhere profound and just goes from scene to scene in a repetitive fashion where very little happens besides a young boy trying to get people to take him seriously, his sister sick in bed and then inexplicably in love with the aforementioned friar, and of course random outbursts of rape.  It is photographed well by Carlos Suárez and has more of an arthouse presentation than an unintentionally silly one for low budget genre exports of the era, but nothing more than that.

70's Spanish Horror Part Eleven

THE FEAST OF SATAN

(1971)

Dir - José María Elorrieta

Overall: MEH

 

Filmmaker José María Elorrieta closed out his directorial career with a small handful of horror cheapies, The Feast of Satan, (Las amantes del diablo, Feast for the Devil), being one of many with the usual stylistic choices on prominent display.  Sexy, hip jazz music whether it belongs on the soundtrack or not, melodramatic dubbing that gives most characters a pompous cadence, gorgeous women who all look alike, the lead male who said females all find irresistible, said females getting smacked around, enormous amounts of chatty padding, and very arguably the world record for camera zooms/reverse zooms in any motion picture.  Also standard procedure, a number of people are credited with the screenplay which was apparently necessary to fill every scene with nothing more than aimless dialog in place of well, anything at all that could be more interesting.  The stakes are incredibly low, diabolical atmosphere is alarmingly absent, and while there is no prominent feast to speak of, at least a few aristocratic people finally give alms to Satan with less than ten minutes to spare in the running time.

VOODOO BLACK EXORCIST

(1974)

Dir - Manuel Caño

Overall: MEH

Imagine Universal's 1932 masterpiece The Mummy as weird, Spanish, and mostly terrible and that gives you a bare-bones representation of what Voodoo Black Exorcist, (Vudú sangriento, Bloody Voudou), is.  Director Manuel Caño had mainly been doing jungle movies by the time he got behind the lens here, which is fitting as various sequences that were shot in the Dominican Republic feature barely-if-at-all-clad natives dancing around to tribal drums in the middle of exotic foliage.  Genre regulars Fernando Sancho, Aldo Sambrell, and Eva León are all on-board and are all laughably dubbed.  To the film's credit, there are a few memorably outrageous moments though.  Spanish actors in black-face, unconvincing decapitated heads, melodramatically stupid dialog, a silly piece of romantic music dropped in here or there, the bad guy getting attacked by a fire hose, and a rushed, "wait, what?" ending are all unintentional hoots.  The final set piece in an actual cave looks great with multi-colored lighting scattered around, plus Sambrell's makeup as the Karloff stand-in is primitive yet effective in how jarring it is.  Pacing wise, it drags as much as you would expect, but there is a naive, garish, exploitative charm to it that almost holds things together enough to recommend.

THE SKY IS FALLING

(1979)

Dir - Silvio Narizzano

Overall: MEH

 

Largely incomprehensible and rambling, The Sky Is Falling, (Las Flores Del Vicio, The Flowers of Vice, El cielo se cae, Bloodbath), is a bizarre fever dream of hedonistic grime and decadence.  Shot on location in the seaside village of Mojacar in Almeria Spain, it focuses on a group of expatriates who wallow in alcohol and drug-fueled bitterness, bonding with a mysterious, newly-arrived bunch of hippies who ultimate prove to have manipulative, sinister intentions.  This is not revealed to be the case until the last few minutes though, leaving almost the entirety of the movie to meander in a surreal stupor that becomes frustratingly monotonous early on.  Dennis Hopper was in his prime, drugged-out state here and it is disturbingly difficult to tell how much of his unkempt, drenched-in-sweat performance was the result of actual acting.  Several of the other participants go off the rails just as much, with Win Wells and Carroll Baker in particular laying into a type of mania that is appropriately scenery chewing for such an affair.  The tone is consistently aggressive and impenetrable for those who can get on board with it and if anything else, it definitely represents a type of "nail in the coffin" cynicism towards all things peace and love.

70's Spanish Horror Part Ten

THE HORRIBLE SEXY VAMPIRE

(1971)

Dir - José Luis Madrid

Overall: WOOF

 

An obvious joke to make with The Horrible Sexy Vampire, (El vampiro de la autopista), is that it is far more horrible than it is sexy.  The only supernatural horror film from director José Luis Madrid, (who immediately followed it up with two crime thrillers with Paul Naschy), there are indeed several shots of women taking off their clothes and occasionally bathing and/or engaging in a few seconds of foreplay with a man, but the ridiculous title still proves to be misleading as the main blood-sucker does nothing remotely tantalizing.  Instead, the decades old count resurrects himself every handful of years and chokes people while being invisible, if for no other reason than because the preposterous script tells him to.  Speaking of the script, Madrid is as lazy of a screenwriter as he is a director, throwing random crap into the mix as if any old cliche will do.  The plotting is atrocious and filled with absolute idiots running around engaging in monotonous behavior, which is not helped by the typically sloppy editing common in most Euro-horror movies with a noticeably minuscule amount of funds to work with.  On that note, they could only afford two pieces of music which are played continuously whenever characters are not wasting screen time prattling on about whether or not vampires are real.

MURDER IN A BLUE WORLD

(1973)

Dir - Eloy de la Iglesia

Overall: MEH

 

The Spanish A Clockwork Orange, Eloy de la Iglesia's Murder in a Blue World, (Una gota de sangre para morir amando, A Drop of Blood to Die Loving, Le bal du vaudou, The Voodoo Ball, Clockwork Terror, To Love, Perhaps to Die), is an interesting if uneven fusing of dystopian science fiction and giallo.  Set in the near future, it takes its cue directly enough from Anthony Burgess' unofficial source material where youth gangs dress up in matching outfits and go about raping, robbing, and murdering people while the Fascist government enlists scientists and doctors to perform unwilling psychological experiments on captured criminals in order to reform them back into society.  Some of the thematic elements are broad enough to come off as afterthoughts like how various commercials are shown which allude to a type of totalitarian consumerism that is only vaguely in tune with everything else going on.  As a foreign knock-off, it is fun to spot the obvious similarities between this and Stanley Kubrick's much more famous work and the addition of Sue Lyon's beautiful and deranged, murdering nurse give it an extra, B-movie slant.  The story is hardly through-provoking though and falls into the typical Euro-trash faux pas of meandering with repetitive scenes, but even as a messy hybrid of sorts, it breaks the mold more than most.

 

LA CRUZ DEL DIABLO

(1975)

Dir - John Gilling

Overall: MEH

Hammer filmmaker John Gilling came out of retirement for his final cinematic work of any kind, the Spanish production La cruz del diablo, (The Devil's Cross, Cross of the Devil).  Yet another take on the Knights Templar that is unrelated to Amando de Ossoria's Blind Dead series, the script was originally written by Paul Naschy as a starring vehicle for himself based on the works of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer.  The project was ultimately taken out of his control though, sold without his knowledge, re-written, and then re-cast.  Even without Naschy's involvement, there are some redeeming qualities to an otherwise mediocre Euro-horror vehicle.  For one, Gilling has a noticeably better eye for macabre visuals and a keener sense of pacing than most other Spanish directors of the era, so the movie has a polished aesthetic that is understandably akin to the Gothic horror that Hammer established a decade or so earlier.  Also, the music is appropriately used for once which is a miracle in and of itself.  Unfortunately though, the story is too thin to maintain interest and it meanders aimlessly where characters seem to take absolutely forever to get to the bottom of anything.  As was all too often the case with such movies, we mostly just watch them suspect each other while exchanging niceties while standing and sitting in rooms repeating the same information ad nauseam.  The climactic finish is underwhelming as well, though at least the evil Templar move with a sense of urgency here as opposed to the laughable snails pace that they do in Ossoria's films.

70's Spanish Horror Part Nine

THE ANCINES WOODS

(1970)

Dir - Pedro Olea

Overall: MEH

 

For his second full-length, filmmaker Pedro Olea chose to adapt Carlos Martínez-Barbeito's novel El bosque de Ancines which was inspired by Spain's first documented serial killer Manuel Blanco Romasanta.  Also known as The Ancines, Woods, The Forest of the Wolf, and The Wolf's Forest, the film tells the tragic story of Romasanta, (here called Benito Freire); a 19th century, epileptic peddler who in real life claimed to have suffered lycanthropy as an excuse for his thirteen admitted murders.  Going in here expecting a standard werewolf movie ala the kind that Paul Naschy was aggressively championing around the same time would be a mistake, not only because there are obviously no hairy monster transformation of any kind, but there is also no nudity and only the most mild of bloodshed.  Some of this was due to Olea being forced by producers to tone down the violence for censorship reasons so that the result cannot fairly classify the film as exploitative.  While this is not a bad thing in and of itself, it does lend to a pedestrian watch that never really picks up a riveting pace.  José Luis López Vázquez is good in the lead though, having primarily come from comedies and delivering an appropriately pathetic performance while looking equally miserable and gnarly in the process.

 

THE WITCHES MOUNTAIN

(1972)

Dir - Raúl Artigot

Overall: MEH

 

The first of only three directorial efforts from Raúl Artigot, The Witches Mountain, (El monte de las brujas), is a head-scratching/borderline irritating viewing experience to say the least.  Considering that Artigot was primarily a cinematographer, one would think that this would at least have a handful of visual flourishes, even on such a clearly shoe-string budget.  Such is oddly not the case though as the entire movie is shot in a completely pedestrian manner with not a single sequence being remotely inciting to look at.  Artigot also has absolutely zero sense of dramatic pacing, which is of course hardly anything unique to this particular bit of Spanish horror fare.  Driven almost entirely by a two person cast, our fabulously mustached leading man Cihangir Gaffari only tells scream queen Patty Shepard to wait behind in the car about seven-hundred and eight times, though never is it necessary for him to embark on anything alone, so why bother making this such a hilariously stubborn plot point in the first place?  More sloppily edited as it goes along with stretched out sequences of no musical score while people stand or walk around, the use of loud, Latin chanted music which the characters can actually hear on the soundtrack is an interesting and creepy idea when it randomly breaks up the monotony of it all.  The ending screams "We're running out of film stock so quick, just shoot something!", leaving the whole thing off like an inept, accidental arthouse movie.

 

NO ONE HEARD THE SCREAM

(1973)

Dir - Eloy de la Iglesia

Overall: MEH

 

Following up the one-two punch of the noticeably different The Glass Ceiling and The Cannibal Man was another detour for filmmaker Eloy de la Iglesia with No One Heard the Scream, (Nadie oyó gritar).  Reuniting with actors Carmen Sevilla and Vicente Parra who had each been a lead in the aforementioned, previous movies, de la Iglesia reveals the absurd premise early on, which is persistently confusing for the audience.  In Sevilla's career mistress, we have a thoroughly illogical-behaving character who takes every opportunity in her predicament to not do what anyone of sound mind would.  She fails to immediately call the cops after witnessing a murder even though she has ample enough time to do so, goes along with a cockamamie accomplice scheme, also fails to turn in and squeal on her kidnapper when literally dealing with the police out in public and in a police station, fails to abandon said kidnapper and/or murder him when given a perfect opportunity, only of course to then fall in love with him because movies.  Thankfully the tone here is not altogether serious as de la Iglesia sprinkles some darkly sly humor among tight suspense sequences, suspense sequences that exist entirely on the moronic choices that Sevilla continues to make.  In this way it has a perverse angle where she clearly is attracted in some strong enough way to the dangerous, immoral circumstance she is in, but nonetheless, this is definitely silly stuff.

70's Spanish Horror Part Eight

THE CORRUPTION OF CHRIS MILLER

(1973)

Dir - Juan Antonio Bardem

Overall: GOOD

From a script perspective, Juan Antonio Bardem's The Corruption of Christ Miller, (La corrupción de Chris Miller, Behind the Shutters, Sisters of Corruption), is one of the more complex and nuanced of Spanish giallo-tinged thrillers from the 1970s.  Bardem was not known for genre cinema throughout his career, so it is unsurprising in this respect that he presents Santiago Moncada's script in a manner that is off the beaten path.  Somewhat of a thinking person's Euro-trash, its more open ended attributes actually seem to be there on purpose as opposed to being rushed, unimportant afterthoughts due to budget constraints and minimal shooting schedules.  The opening is particularly odd and noteworthy where a woman wakes up nude, goes downstairs, and orders a mute person dressed as Charlie Chaplin to leave the premises.  When things shift to the troubled mother/stepdaughter dynamic of Jean Seberg and Marisol, (Josefa Flores González), and then a handsome drifter enters the picture, the story takes on a different tone where manipulation, bitterness, and suspicion create some chilling ambiguity.  Several moments have an arthouse flavor, including a nasty murder sequence that cuts out the sound and switches to slow motion for stark, horrific emphasis as well as a strong ending that unconventionally utilizes a montage approach to create almost Hitchcock-worthy tension.  

CREATION OF THE DAMNED

(1974)

Dir - José Ulloa

Overall: MEH

More of an apocalyptic drama than anything exploring science fiction ideas or utilizing horror motifs, co-writer/director José Ulloa's Creation of the Damned, (El refugio del miedo, Refuge of Fear), is too sluggish and flat in its presentation to be of much interest.  This is Ulloa's first credited feature behind the lens, which perhaps partly explains the unengaging pace and sterile look.  Set in a single, boarded up apartment where a group of friends sit through a nuclear fall out that has left the world ravaged by radiation, we certainly feel their monotonous lifestyle where they grow increasingly agitated, desperate, and suspicious of each other as they are left with little else to do beside play pool and have sex with whoever is bored.  As one would expect, the imposed quarantine makes everyone crack in more ways than one and the nihilistic ending sees genre mainstay Patty Shepard defending herself against a guy who is trying to repopulate the human race with her after being convinced that the earth is doomed even though their radio connection to the outside world has informed them that it is in fact finally safe to venture out.  There are the usual low-budget Euro-tropes such as unintentionally funny dialog, inappropriately jovial music, choppy editing, bad dubbing, and of course rape, with a random striptease also thrown in to sleaze it up that much more.

DEMON WITCH CHILD

(1975)

Dir - Amando de Ossorio

Overall: GOOD

One of the more wild and inventive foreign knock-offs of The Exorcist, Demon Witch Child, (La endemoniada, The Possessed), from the Blind Dead series writer/director Amando de Ossorio goes for garish shocks, hilariously profane dialog, and fun, blasphemous creepiness.  The appropriate plagiarism is in place with A) a preteen girl getting possessed, dropping a lot of profanity, and speaking in other people's voices B) people doing experiments on her to see what the hell is the matter, C) her mother being particularly distraught over the whole affair, and D) a priest with some troubled personal drama of his own.  Several elements are missing, namely an actual exorcism and a demonic entity, but here lies some of Ossorio's own clever ideas which differentiate it enough as a silly cash-grab.  Little Marián Salgado, (who actually dubbed Linda Blair in the Spanish release of The Exorcist), looks ridiculous enough in her old crone makeup to actually come off as unsettling and the scenes of the evil coven in all of their grandiose, Satan-praising glory have a fitting mix of gruesomeness and absurdity as the performances crank up the silly even as they are sacrificing live babies.  Euro-horror scream queens Julia Saly and María Kosty are nice additions as well in minor roles, the later as a particularly dramatic women who falls into prostitution because her boyfriend dumped her for the priesthood.  Hey, we've all been there.

70's Spanish Horror Part Seven - (León Klimovsky Edition)

THE VAMPIRES NIGHT ORGY

(1973)

Overall: MEH

One of the strangest blood-sucking fiend demises in cinema history aside, (in the form of their sexy Countess leader falling asleep after being hit with a cross in the backseat of a car and then turning into a pile of maggots once the sun rises), The Vampires Night Orgy, (La orgía nocturna de los vampiros, Grave Desires), is an incredibly dull and formulaic outing.  A bunch of tourist's buss breaks down in a weird village that apparently does not exist, they are forced to stay there and get picked off by the undead locals, two good looking strangers immediately fall in love, more car trouble happens, fill in the blanks, etc.  Several Spanish and overall Euro-horror players are present, most notably Jack Taylor, Dyanik Zurakowska, and Helga Liné, but the violence and nudity are sparse for anyone expecting such things.  Director León Klimovsky does manage to pull off a few effectively creepy set pieces, at least when someone remembers to shut off the horrendously inappropriate music that plays at random intervals throughout, which of course is another silly hallmark of such movies that is unfortunately abused here.  The pacing is sluggish too, so outside of its highly predictable framework and low-end production values that will be of interest to those clamoring for such tropes, this does not have much else to offer.

THE DRACULA SAGA

(1973)

Overall: MEH

 

A somewhat inventive though ultimately lackluster vampire yarn, The Dracula Saga, (La saga de los Drácula, Death, Death, Death), offers up a unique narrative to an age old, Gothic framework.  Stylistically, director León Klimovsky leans heavily into the type of Hammer horror aesthetic that countless Euro-genre films adhered to.  It is set in a remote village with a spacious, creepy castle full of noticeably pale-faced undead who drink unnaturally bright red blood and dress in exquisite burial clothes, plus it even throws in the deformed, mute character for pure shock value.  Said monstrosity is the result of the Dracula family's many decades of inbreeding, (gross), and certainly does provide some gasps due to its hilariously garish appearance as a child-sized, alien-craniumed, pink-fleshed cyclops.  The always alluring Helga Liné once again returns in her usual role as a gorgeously evil fiend and the Spanish Vincent Price Narciso Ibáñez Menta plays none other than Count Dracula himself in a less vile and ergo sympathetic manner as his sole interest seems to be in simply continuing the family bloodline.  Despite some quirky attributes and a plot line that does more than simply rehash countless other such films, the story gives way to a monotonous structure that is too easy to tune-out of along the way.  Far from the worst, (or only), 70s European horror movie to bare the Dracula title, it is at least worth a look at least amongst the horde.

I HATE MY BODY

(1974)

Overall: MEH

There is much going on in León Klimovsky's topsy-turvy I Hate My Body, (Odio mi cuerpo), an interesting exploitation movie where as the tagline properly promises "The brain of a man... the body of a woman... the sexual horror story of our time!".  The theme is relentlessly on the nose of male chauvinism reigning supreme in a society where all women in all walks of life or employment are at the mercy of the sex-crazed, macho scumbags holding positions of power.  As the male-turned-gorgeous-female lead, Alexandra Bastedo is effective as she seems repulsed and furious at her current predicament after Narciso Ibáñez Menta's bold scientist performs an impossible operation that renders her not only incapable of landing the job she is qualified for, but also incapable of going through a single day or a single male encounter without fighting off their repugnant advances.  The film says a lot about women's place in such a sexist driven society and uses its silly, science-fiction concept for taboo purposes as several scenes inter-cut Bastedo with Manuel de Blas as the character that she/he actually is, thus making particular rape and seduction scenes that much more uncomfortable.  More of an interesting movie than a good one, Euro-trash fans will probably find it worthwhile.

 

NIGHT OF THE WALKING DEAD

(1975)

Overall: MEH

A combination of cliches and strangeness, Night of the Walking Dead, (El extraño amor de los vampiros, Strange Love of the Vampires), suffers many of the pratfalls of 70s Euro-trash for better or worse.  As always, director León Klimovsky seems to use incidental music as an afterthought at best and there are several moments where the stock soundtrack is laughably at odds with what is happening on screen, especially when it appears to be taken right out of a whimsical Disney movie.  Elsewhere, the story itself, (which has multiple screenwriters contributing to it), is period set, has a cursed village, a forbidden castle full of vampires, a beautiful young woman who falls inexplicably in love with said castle's white-haired Dracula stand-in, and plenty of moronic dialog that may as well be cut and pasted from gallons of other undead films that were already released at the time.  The dubbing is extremely atrocious, but it is also in keeping with the spirit of such midnight movie exports.  It is all far too derivative to be of much merit, but Klimovsky still manages to pack the proceedings with some creepy visuals and even a gala ball where the blood suckers kidnap townsfolk, dance around New Years Eve style, and hang a guy up by his feet to bleed him out like a pig for their amusement/nourishment.

TRAUMA

(1978)

Overall: MEH

Near the final directorial work in León Klimovsky's filmography and the last one to fall into the horror-by-giallo field, Trauma, (Violación fatal, Sarsinti), has a single, isolated setting, minute cast of characters, and a simple slasher agenda that manages to occasionally entice along its predictable route.  Actor/producer/behind the scenes man Heinrich Starhemberg flees from his gorgeous wife played by Sandra Alberti due to undisclosed circumstances, only to end up at a vacant boardinghouse run by the even more gorgeous Ágata Lys who speaks with her handicapped husband that is never shown to answer her.  This is the type of minimalist thriller where the details play a predominant role.  Though it is made all too abundantly clear who the murder is from the get-go, Starhemberg's possible unwholesome intentions are still teased along with his closeted homosexuality to obscure the true nature of his character, helped effectively by the actor's aloof performance.  In typical slasher movie fashion, the kill scenes are mostly routine and boring in the sense that each of the murder's victims are impossible not to point out from the moment that they arrive on screen.  Still, Klimovsky manages to slightly toy with a few of the viewer's expectations along the way and leaves the film with a preordained yet satisfyingly ambiguous ending.  Certainly not the most clever of giallos out there, but it is also far from the most hare-brained.

70's Paul Naschy Part Eight

THE CRIMES OF PETIOT

(1972)

Dir - José Luis Madrid

Overall: MEH

The second giallo collaboration between Paul Naschy and co-writer/director José Luis Madrid, The Crimes of Petiot, (Los crímenes de Petiot), is n unrelated follow-up to the duo's Seven Murders for Scotland Yard which was released the previous year.  Essential narrative components are all there, like a black-gloved killer picking off victims while the police try and narrow down suspects, all pointing in various red herring directions along the way before the big reveal of who the murderer is utilizes a traumatic past for his excuse.  This particular story is very loosely/not really at all based on Dr. Marcel Petiot, a French serial killer who was discovered a few years after World War II, though the version here paints a more sympathetic picture driven by unwilling vengeance.  Unfortunately, such psycho analyzing sounds far more interesting than the actual movie which is plagued by a monotonous structure that consists almost entirely of characters sitting in rooms saying variations of "Well maybe YOU'RE the killer" only to be followed by, "Well there can be no doubt, THIS guy is the killer".  Also, virtually one piece of music plays on the soundtrack over and over and over again and it proves obnoxious even before the opening credits are finished.

 

KILMA, QUEEN OF THE JUNGLE

(1974)

Dir - Miguel Iglesias

Overall: MEH

A dopey and bog-standard amazon woman jungle adventure, Kilma, Queen of the Jungle, (La diosa salvaje, The Jungle Goddess), has all of the preposterous elements that you would expect from such silliness.  After a helicopter full of diamonds crashes in the jungle, a young child, (who is the lone survivor), grows up to be a smoking hot, body-hair-shaved, makeup wearing, raven-haired babe with a leopard print bikini on who plays with monkeys and wields a leather whip at any humans that come her way.  Her mother then has dreams about her daughter still being alive as a female Tarzan, her complaining husband with dubious, alternate intentions stages an expedition to find her, the mother is never seen again, a dashing hero guy falls in love with Kilma, other greedy assholes show up, primitive natives are there to keep the cultural insensitivity in check, etc.  It is more harmlessly silly than actually fun, with regular monotonous intervals that slog the pace along which are only occasionally broken up by the dated goofiness of the presentation.  For his part as the aforementioned shady husband, Paul Naschy gets plenty of screen time and makes his inevitable villain reveal convincing enough even under the typically atrocious English dubbing.  Otherwise though, this is definitely to be missed.

THE PEOPLE WHO OWN THE DARK

(1976)

Dir - León Klimovsky

Overall: GOOD

 

A post-apocalyptic movie from director León Klimovsky, The People Who Own the Dark, (Último deseo), has a number of familiar faces present to liven up what is essentially a dour production.  Nadiuska, Alberto de Mendoza, Julia Saly, Antonio Mayans, and of course Paul Naschy had all made their names to some degree at least in other genre movies from the era, yet this particular film is of a different breed from straight, low-budget Euro-sleaze and unabashed Gothic horror.  A handful of wealthy, borderline unlikable people throw a tasteless party at a remote mansion where prostitutes are invited to perform in strange, occult ceremonies for a gag, all of which sets things up to be some soft of sadistic captive story.  This is ultimately not the case though as an extreme shift happens in the plot which turns it into a survivor-style hold up where said crop of characters fend off against a town full of newly blinded commoners once a nuclear war breaks out.  As one could guess, the millionaire's back-stabbing, "every man for themselves" nature quickly dominates while others simply lose their marbles in the chaos of it all.  It all culminates in a tense, cynical finale that nevertheless serves as a highlight, leaving things off on a bleak series of images that is more memorable than what is usually allowed. 

70's Paul Naschy Part Seven

THE FURY OF THE WOLFMAN

(1970)

Dir - Jose Maria Zabalza

Overall: WOOF

 

Easily the worst in Paul Naschy's Waldemar Daninsky series until Fred Olen Ray took an embarrassing crack at it over thirty years later, The Fury of the Wolfman, (La Furia del Hombre Lobo, Wolfman Never Sleeps), is a botched effort solely due to its trainwreck production.  The initial director was to be Enrique Lopez Eguiluz, a friend of Naschy's who was then replaced by José María Zabalza, a veteran in Spanish cinema that was allegedly drunk and volatile during the shooting.  Coming in too short for proper theatrical release, additional, "out for a stroll" werewolf scenes were shot with a stand-in, footage was then recycled from two earlier Naschy Daninsky films, and further distribution problems resulted in numerous cuts of the movie which did not get circulated until several years after everything wrapped.  As one could surmise, the result is virtually incomprehensible with plot points that are both rushed and boringly drawn out, random stock music thrown in anywhere, and abrupt editing that gives it a lazily slapdash feel throughout.  Certain moments are unintentionally hysterical like an early, sloppy dream sequence where a Hindi man says "Pentagram" over and over again and a later scene where Naschy in full lycanthropian garb casually gets into a screaming woman's bed for a few seconds, only to then get up and leave with her laying there unattacked and still screaming.

DEATH OF A HOODLUM

(1975)

Dir - León Klimovsky

Overall: MEH

 

The last collaboration between director León Klimovsky and Paul Naschy was the crime drama Death of a Hoodlum, (Muerte de un quinqui), one of a handful of lesser known works during the actor's 1970s heyday to never receive an English dub or US release.  Not that fans on the other side of the Atlantic were particularly missing out as this is hardly a memorable effort for all parties involved.  Naschy penned the screenplay as he was wont to do, this time writing that he successfully seduces a mother and daughter under the same roof.  At least this time the women on screen do not find him irresistible from the moment they lay eyes on him, but it still provides the movie with one of Naschy's most steadfast and silly tropes.  Elsewhere, this is dull stuff that is similar in some respects to the 1973 giallo Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll which also found Naschy's unwholesome character looking for work, holding up in an isolated house, and banging more than one woman in a family.  Klimovsky's direction is entirely flat though, with no stylistic choices whatsoever besides the same piece of horrible music showing up several dozen times to give it the wrong, romantic tone at random intervals.  Naschy's character has some disturbing trauma involving his parents which cause him to occasionally lose his cool, call women sluts and bitches, and resort to violence, but besides that, it is a snore.

THE FRENCHMAN'S GARDEN

(1978)

Dir - Paul Naschy

Overall: GOOD

During the late 70s, Paul Naschy was stepping away from his nostalgic, Gothic horror reworkings to prioritize more boundary pushing and challenging works, turning "The Frenchman's Garden Murders" of 1904 into an incredibly stark, understated film whose tone was miles away from the Spanish Wolfman's norm.  Though he appears in the lead, Naschy omitted his name from all promotional materials as to not mislead audiences into thinking that this was akin to the movies that he was known for, though the result is one of the most personally sincere in his filmography.  The Frenchman's Garden, (El huerto del Francés), primarily focuses on the sin of pride and how if left unchecked, can lead to a series of misfortunes at the expense of others.  As the brothel owner Juan Andrés Aldije 'El Francés', the character's selfish need to sleep with as many women as he wishes, murder as many wealthy passers-by as he wishes, and all with the explicit excuse to prove himself worthy of his wife's disapproving parents, sets him up as a severely flawed man.  Naschy's performance is wonderfully nuanced though.  He rarely comes across as the on-paper brute that he is, routinely seeming concerned and compassionate towards those around him, even if it is ultimately a cold affront to the deep seeded darkness within, (a darkness that is literally shown in a few sequences through some lighting maneuvers).  The entire film which deals explicitly with abortion, murder, adultery, and even homosexuality is played virtually exploitation-less, showcasing a bold move for Spanish cinema in general of the era which was only a few years removed from the Francoist Period.

70's Paul Naschy Part Six

LA NOCHE DE WALPURGIS

(1971)

Dir - León Klimovsky

Overall: GOOD

 

The fourth in the Waldemar Daninsky series of wolfman films to be released, La Noche de Walpurgis, (Die Nacht der Vampire, The Werewolf vs. the Vampire Woman, Shadow of the Werewolf, Werewolf's Shadow, Le messe nere della contessa Dracula, La Furie des Vampires, Le Nuit des Loup Garous, Blood Moon), is quite the memorable one, going as far as to be remade a decade later as El Retorno del Hombre Lobo.  After the previous Fury of the Wolfman which was a heavily botched production, Paul Nashcy concocted another pair-up that was akin to 1969's Los Monstruos del Terror.  The story here is much more streamlined than the aforementioned, ridiculous monster mash where Waldemar lazily survives what appear to be the events of the previous year's Fury, only to have a completely different cover as an author living in an isolated castle with his deranged sister.  Also, a vampire lady gets resurrected after some blood is accidentally spilled on her corpse.  As the first of eight films that Naschy would make with director León Klimovsky, several of the familiar motifs are adhered to with women falling effortlessly in love with Nashy's character, him only finding peace if murdered by said love interest, spooky, slow motion sequences and music, plua cheap yet effective gore and makeup effects.

THE KILLER IS ONE OF 13

(1973)

Dir - Javier Aguirre

Overall: WOOF

 

An exasperatingly dull Agatha Christie-styled giallo, The Killer Is One of 13, (El asesino está entre los trece), cannot gather nearly enough gusto out of its ensemble cast and murder mystery plot.  As one could guess, thirteen people, (plus some handymen and women which includes Paul Naschy in about seventeen seconds of screen time), hold up at a single location in a remote, spacious house where their host accuses one of them as the murder of her husband some years back.  While this is set up early enough in a long, increasingly boring dinner sequence, the rest of the movie regrettably continues on in such a trajectory.  With only the most minimal of exceptions including some very mild, nudity-less sex scenes and a few blink and you'll miss them murder sequences, (the first of which does not occur until over an hour in), the entire movie is made up of characters sitting or standing in rooms and talking with each other.  Sometimes they argue, sometimes they crack jokes, and usually they repeat the same mind-numbingly mundane information about not trusting so and so, being mad at another so and so, wanting to leave, etc.  It is impressive in one capacity that such a lackluster story was green-lit in the first place, but sitting through it is a chore that only the most dedicated gluttons of snore-inducing Euro trash can endure.

THE TRAVELER

(1979)

Dir - Paul Naschy

Overall: GOOD

For his forth time in the directorial seat as well as supplying the screenplay along with Eduarda Targioni plus appearing as the title character, Paul Naschy's The Traveler, (El caminante, The Devil Incarnate), is one of his more amusingly diabolical ventures.  The blasphemous premise of the Devil getting bored and deciding to live as a man ala Jesus for awhile gives way to an endless, rather monotonous stream of wickedness where Naschy murders, steals, betrays, and impregnates anyone who will put a little more gold in his pockets or leisurely accommodations at his disposal.   It has an odd, humorous tone for a Naschy movie though.  The sinful mischief is not the only thing played for laughs as there is also the far more omitted components such as piss drinking, fart jokes, and man rape present.  Not that one can take it all that seriously as a "message" movie, but the cynical theme of mankind being inherently selfish and evil is on the nose, yet thankfully without being heavy-handed.  Quite the opposite in fact as it is presented in a fun, mockingly whimsical manner that makes the whole thing's boundary-pushing exploitativeness more goofy than sleazy.

Gamera Shōwa Era Part Two

GAMERA VS. GUIRON

(1969)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: WOOF

Lazy, redundant, obnoxious, stupid, and above all else catastrophically boring, the firth Gamera film Gamera vs. Guiron, (Gamera tai Daiakujū Giron, Gamera vs. Giant Evil Beast Guiron, Attack of the Monsters), continues the downhill trajectory for the series, a series which was already lame-brained at its "best".  When two dumb-ass kids accidentally launch a UFO and fly around in outer space, followed by their sister informing her mother of this and merely being told to stop imagining things and just do good in school so she can get a swell job as an adult, (all within the first eighteen minutes), you know exactly what kind of dopey, child-friendly schlock that you are in for.  The problem is that Niisan Takahashi's script is so uninspired that it insults both grown-ups and children alike who are unfortunate enough to sit through such drivel.  The smaller budget from Daiei does not help either as it reuses previous monster footage from earlier installments and focuses more than ever on the kid's point of view in a fittingly ridiculous, quasi-Hansel and Gretel plot where another group of humanoid aliens in absurd costumes now want to eat people for reasons.  Rest assured though, it still finds time to shoehorn in pointless sequences of scientists in lab coats as well.

GAMERA VS. JIGER

(1970)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: MEH

 

More of the same for round six in the Gamera series, Gamera vs. Jiger, (Gamera tai Daimajū Jaigā, Gamera vs. Giant Devil Beast Jiger, Gamera vs. Monster X), sticks to earth this time instead of bothering with extraterrestrial forces.  It still has little kids sitting in on board meetings with scientists and military people, little kids who are also given dangerous tasks as part of the team in order to get their favorite over-sized, reptilian hero monster to take care of this year's baddie who was slumbering just fine beneath the earth until a stature on Wester Island was removed.  The story has enough bare-bones plot points to move things along, but it is all still made up of only slight variations of the same ole crap that is thrown into the mix time and time again, particularly for this kaiju franchise which is noticeably less inventive than Toho's Godzilla one by obvious comparison.  Speaking of comparison, this is a less insulting entry than others before it, yet what it makes up for with less obnoxious cuteness, (though there is still plenty of that), is a laborious structure whose suitmation sequences are as stock and boring as ever.  Gamera even sits out a significant portion of the latter half which gives inconsequential human characters the chance to study diagrams of his physiology, (and how did they get these diagrams in the first place you may ask?), further stalling an already redundant viewing experience.

GAMERA VS. ZIGRA

(1971)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: WOOF

Annoying grown-ups, annoying kids, and a giant, flying monster turtle all lock horns to defeat an alien race...again in Gamera vs. Zigara, (Gamera tai Shinkai Kaijū Jigura, Gamera vs. Deep-Sea Monster Zigra).  The sheer audacious redundancy of these movies is actually admirable after awhile, yet this was the entry that finally broke the camel's back after a new, barely distinguishable retread kept arriving year after year for the last six of them at this point.  This was due to Daiei Films going bankrupt shortly after the movie was finished and another installment would not arrive for almost a decade.  Serving as a saving grace then, the initial run was put out of its misery with a story that combines all of the previously used plot points...again.  Stupid little kids finding their way into dangerous situations involving outer space vehicles and underwater vessels?  Check.  An extraterrestrial force that craves world dominance? Check.  Said aliens having a giant monster of their own to put Gamera temporarily out of commission until the finale when the kids can help find the bad guy's weakness? Check.  Military meetings? Check.  Up-tempo music sung by children? Check.  So basically, you can watch all six of the previous movies at the same time and that technically counts as seeing this one too.

GAMERA: SUPER MONSTER

(1980)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: WOOF

One would think that nine years could wield markedly improved special effects in a tokusatsu movie, yet Daiei's ridiculous cash-grab Gamera: Super Monsters, (Uchū Kaijū Gamera, Space Monster Gamera), throws a monkey wrench in such an assumption.  The film's embarrassing reliance on stock footage, (including nearly every single shot of the title monster and all of his former, over-sized adversaries), makes sense considering that this was quickly thrown together to generate some easy revenue for the studio who was once again undergoing financial hardships.  Even more baffling and hilarious is the use of footage from Space Battleship Yamato and Galaxy Express 999, meaning that yes, flying suitmation mixes with cartoons in as jarring of a manner as you would think.  Story wise, (you guessed it), we have another alien takeover plot, but at least only one annoying kid is at the center of things instead of a pair or gang of them, plus the added ingredient of a female superhero team, (because Japan), is something that the series never bothered taking enough drugs to come up with before.  Visually, the movie is a bona fide trainwreck of horrendously dated effects work that should be downright unacceptable as this was released in a post-Star Wars landscape.  Of course all of the film's multitude of flaws is exactly what makes it appealing for terrible movie fans, but make no mistake; a terrible movie this here certainly be.

Gamera Shōwa Era Part One

GAMERA, THE GIANT MONSTER

(1965)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: MEH

 

Daiei Films jumps on the "over-sized reptilian on a rampage" kaiju wagon with the unremarkablely derivative Gamera, The Giant Monster, (Daikaijū Gamera, Giant Monster Gamera, Gamrea the Invisible).  The first in a many-deep series of films which kicked off what is commonly referred to as the Shōwa era, it was made on a relatively modest budget after the studio's failed project Giant Horde Beast Nezura was shut down for health reasons.  Plagued with production issues, the results are a mixed bag as far as the special effects are concerned.  The only Gamera movie to be in black and white, this is a partial saving grace as the dark cinematography actually disguises the primitive model and suitemation work for more atmospheric effect.  The flying, fire turtle title creature looks better than would be expected in this regard, but sadly the plot structure features a steady combination of the genre's most annoying cliches.  It is all doctors, scientists, and military people concocting plans to stop Gamera in its tracks, none of which work of course until the very end as not to wrap things up too quickly.  Worst of all though is a prominent joint story line involving an obnoxious little kid who has no friends and is obsessed with turtles, a kid that inexplicably gets himself in close proximity with all of the action while whining "Gamera!", "Nooo!", and "Put me down!" more than enough times that the audience will just pray for him to be fed to the humongous beast already.

GAMERA VS. BARUGON

(1966)

Dir - Shigeo Tanaka

Overall: MEH

Quickly put into production after the success of Gamera, the Giant Monster, Gamera vs. Barugon, (Daikaijū kettō: Gamera tai Barugon, Great Monster Duel: Gamera vs. Barugon, War of the Monsters), is just as "giant monster movie by numbers" as its predecessor.  The film was shot in color and given an A-level budget, with the previous director Noriaki Yuasa handling the special effects sequences and Shigeo Tanaka stepping in behind the lens, making this the only kaiju work on his resume.  After a quick recap, things get right to the fun stuff with the title beast attacking the Kurobe Damn and spinning around like a lit-up UFO in the sky to find more bright and shinny sources of energy.  Sadly, the human drama then takes over for a prolonged amount of time before the other title beast Barugon hatches from an opal and terrorizes everyone, including Gamera who he puts into a frozen coma due to the ice blasts that he can propel from his tongue.  Thankfully, the plot largely forgets the non-monster characters after awhile and the suitmation/toy puppet mash-em up sequences are hilariously stupid enough to forgive the overall textbook formula, even if the cinematography is often too murky to properly take advantage of the color format.

GAMERA VS. GYAOS

(1967)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: MEH

 

Things get back on the kid-friendly track with Gamera vs. Gyaos, (Daikaijū kūchūsen: Gamera tai Gyaosu, Giant Monster Midair Battle: Gamera vs. Gyaohe, Return of the Giant Monsters), the third entry in the Gamera series.  Original director Noriaki Yuasa was delegated to merely handling the special effects sequences in the previous Gamera vs. Barugon, but he is back at the helm proper here with regular screenwriter Niisan Takahashi still in charge of the screenplay.  Unfortunately, this also entailed the decision to have yet another slightly annoying child protagonist who is enthralled with the title monster for some reason.  The script goes as far as to have him relay obvious information to the grown ups that help them combat the nocturnal Gyaos, a creature that was pitched by Yuasa as a vampiric/Dracula kaiju answer to Toho's giant Frankenstein in Frankenstein Conquers the World.  They ended up going with just another goofy looking dinosaur with a pointy head who only comes out at night and shoots yellow lasers from his pointy-teethed mouth.  The battle scenes between the two over-grown beasts are of the usual hilariously dated variety, no more or less absurd looking than any other such movie getting regularly churned out at the time.  Even Yuasa was not a fan of stock human characters breaking up the action, yet they are still a fixture here with a story revolving around protests to the construction of a highway, all of which provides the bare minimum of a contemporary backdrop for more monster smashy scenes.

 

GAMERA VS. VIRAS

(1968)

Dir - Noriaki Yuasa

Overall: MEH

Daiei's own kaiju series continues on with Gamera vs. Viras, (Gamera tai Uchū Kaijū Bairasu, Gamera vs. Outer Space Monster Viras, Destroy All Planets), the cheapest and dumbest entry yet.  Due to financial woes for the studio, the budget was limited here which resulted in a significant amount of reused footage.  Far more annoying though is the asinine story which pits two boy scouts against an alien race that is hellbent on conquering the earth.  These two brats manage to not only rewire a US military submarine, but also thwart the extraterrestrial spaceship's controls by effortlessly bamboozling them.  Such "Bah, who cares?" plot contrivances and jaunty music both set the tone squarely in the kid-friendly zone, plus the absolutely abysmal special effects further heighten such silliness.  The other giant monster of the title reveals itself to be a big, floppy squid-like creature that is as hilariously awful looking as any kaiju creation ever was.  There are plenty of embarrassing shots featuring the two of them duking it out in the finale, plus both the interiors and exteriors of the spaceship are equally bottom-barrel.  At least the inconsequential human drama is largely eliminated and there are some amusing elements regarding the glowing-eyed aliens that are visually memorable.