(1971)
Dir - Don Henderson
Overall: MEH
The last film from director Don Henderson, The Touch of Satan is notable for featuring some of the earliest credited work from makeup artist Joe Blasco and cinematographer Jordan Croneweth, both of whom would go on to bigger and better things. Shot between 1968 and 1970 around Santa Ynez, California and featuring a cast of no one in particular, it manages to be unremarkable without being atrocious. While Henderson's sense of pacing is insufficient and James E. McLarty's screenplay is nothing to write home about, (something to do with two sisters who were accused of witchcraft centuries earlier, only to become witches themselves and oh yeah, one of them looks like a burnt up ole crone while the other has retained her youth until she hasn't), the film looks better than it has any reason to. Clumsy dialog, stiff performances, and awkward editing further muddle things up, but even amongst the technical shortcomings and the fact that the isolated walnut farm location is anything but spooky, Henderson is still able to achieve some semblance of macabre dread here and there.
(1977)
Dir - William R. Stromberg
Overall: WOOF
The 1970s produced a handful of throwback, 1950s-tinged giant monster movies and even more no budget piece of shit creature features, The Crater Lake Monster arguably being the worst of any of them. This was the only film to be directed by William R. Stromberg who had a background in commercials, (as well as working on Davey and Goliath), hence the idea to make the Loch Ness Monster stand-in with stop-motion animated. The small handful of dinosaur shots that we get are a hoot due to how dated and poorly-realized they are, but they at least provide the movie with some semblance of unintentional enjoyment. There is nothing of the kind to be found anywhere else. According to actor/screenwriter Richard Cardella, the finance company botched the editing, added a library-cued musical score, and removed expository dialog sequences, which is hilarious since Satan knows how much more insufferably boring this would have been with even MORE scenes of people who cannot act standing around while discussing things. There is wretched comic relief, a pointless subplot about some asshole robbing a convenient store, and a whole lotta local yokels with hillbilly accents delivering derivative and embarrassing dialog in a stilted manner. It is movies like this that give lakes, monsters, and craters all a bad name.
(1979)
Dir - Harry Hurwitz
Overall: WOOF
The, (rightfully), penultimate film from Vietnamese belly dancer turned actor/writer/producer Nai Bonet, Nocturna: Granddaughter of Dracula is notable for being both absolutely terrible and for providing John Carradine with his fifth and last role as the title Count. While the movie is an embarrassingly dated trainwreck for a multitude of reasons, many of these reasons give it an unintentional charm. The most noticeable faux pas is Bonet's atrocious acting abilities, though the fact that the movie is littered with some of the worst disco music known to man is equally distracting. There are numerous dance and song montages to the point that this qualifies as a musical, but anyone expecting anything near the quality of Saturday Night Fever except with vampires will be wholly disappointed. At least when it comes to showing off her dance moves and bodacious body, Bonet gives the people what they want, but her awkward, smiling, deer in headlights performance leaves no doubt whatsoever as to why her acting career permanently vanished soon after this. While the jokes are top-to-bottom groan-worthy, Yvonne De Carlo as Dracula's ole fling and Brother Theoodore as a horny Renfield stand-in are delightful highlights. It was always bittersweet to see Carradine in so many bottom barrel genre films and this is no different, but he at least seems in on the lame joke.
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