(1972)
Dir - Lee Frost
Overall: MEH
With equally ridiculous title and premise in tow, Lee Frost's The Thing with Two Heads delivers its advertised absurdity even if the end result is not that memorable. The social commentary is on the nose as Ray Milland's stuffy and bigoted surgeon literally joins heads with a wrongly convicted African American convict, all while a respectable/also African American doctor tags along for the ride. Frost and his fellow screenwriters, (which include Wes Biship and James Gordon White), hardly bother saying anything profound with their setup, eventually just turning it into a chase film involving one cop car after the other crashing and flipping over while the funky wah-wah heavy soundtrack by The Incredible Bongo Band sets the proper high-jinks mood. As a comedy, it gets by to a point with Milland's Archie Bunker-esque annoyance with his situation. Plus the dated, practical production aspects of watching him and Rosey Grier awkwardly smushed together on a bed or in an oversized suite are a hoot to laugh at, most likely intentionally. There are not enough clever set pieces to keep the chuckles going and the ending is particularly rushed, but B-movie enthusiasts should probably add it to their "to get to" list if they have not done so already.
(1973)
Dir - Bill Gunn
Overall: GOOD
Writer/director Bill Gunn's startling and unique Ganja & Hess does not adhere to the often tacky and comedic trappings of blaxploitation proper or conventional horror tropes for that matter, which is largely what makes it stand out as a singular work. While it is a vampire film on paper and Gunn uses the genre template to explore addiction, racial class structure, and spiritual enlightenment, the approach is explicitly experimental. Narrative coherence is forgone and in its place, Gunn concocts a deliberate, flowing montage of ethereal visuals where the plot is barely intelligible underneath it all. While this becomes aggressively pretentious and arguably even self-serving, the end result is both challenging and haunting. The eerie sound design, music from Sam Waymon, and cinematography from Civil Rights documentarian James E. Hinton as well as committed performances from Gunn, Marlene Clark, and Duane Jones, (in his only other significant role besides Night of the Living Dead), are all exceptional. As an art film, it is unforgiving in its imposing approach, but it is also culturally significant and rewarding by design.
(1974)
Dir - Ron Honthaner
Overall: MEH
The only film from director Ron Hanthaner and screenwriter Mildred Pares, The House on Skull Mountain is an oddity amongst 70s horror in that it features a predominantly African American cast yet it is not stylistically in line with blaxploitation, which was the style at the time. Instead, it takes the tired ole "reading of the will" premise and throws in some tired ole voodoo nonsense as well, hardly resulting in anything that is worth remembering. On the plus side, it has a nifty matte painting of the title abode; a spacious mansion that sits on top of a mountain that indeed has a giant skull at its base. However the hell that geographically works. There are also some fun shots of a hooded skull thing, the undead makeup is sufficient, and Monroe P. Askins' cinematography makes the film look better than it is. Unfortunately Pares' script fails to elevate its cliches and only affords a few lackluster deaths and supernatural set pieces, though Honthaner devotes many minutes to dancing tribal rituals and Jean Durand stabbing dolls with pins. Victor French makes a poorly-cast and schlubby Caucasian hero, plus the fact that he and the strikingly not-at-all-schlubby Janee Michelle both develop a romance and are cousins is one of several awkward details herein.
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