(1972)
Dir - Harry Essex
Overall: WOOF
Overall: WOOF
This antiquated killer alien monster movie is based on Julian May's short story "The Dune Roller" which had already been adapted twenty years earlier in a Tales of Tomorrow episode. Why director Harry Essex decided to do a full-length version at this point in his career when such generic sci-fi yarns were old hat is anybody's guess and the resulting The Cremators suffers from all angles of its production. This was the last time that veteran teleplay writer Essex would be behind the lens and judging by the snoozable results, hardly anyone could lament his retirement. The film starts off sluggish and never recovers, featuring bland Caucasian characters delivering bland dialog as a giant ball of alien energy ravishes the countryside, though it is given far less screen time than the bored actors sitting around looking bored at each other. Essex tries to spice things up with some cheap special effects shots that are interjected at random intervals and this would give the movie an aura of tacky surrealism if not for how stone-faced and tiring the presentation is.
(1973)
Dir - Richard L. Bare
Overall: MEH
A gimmick movie that utilizes a split-screen device throughout almost every shot, (here given the William Castle-worthy title of "Duo-Vision"), Wicked, Wicked is more quirky than watchable. This was the last theatrically released work from veteran television director Richard L. Bare who concocted the novelty, penned the screenplay, and produced it himself. Unfortunately, the "watching two versions of the same movie at once" gag is the only thing that it has going for it. As far as the plot goes, it concerns a wacky bellboy who murders blonde women because of mommy issues and every other character on board is as uninteresting as the next. While there are one or two garish flourishes to the proceedings, Bare tries to balance tongue-in-cheek goofiness with exploitative nastiness and bland melodrama, doing so with mixed results. Some moments, (particularly the ending and frequent shots of a mugging old lady playing organ), and hilariously stupid, but the dual-screen presentation becomes more annoying than clever. Basically, this is a poorly paced comedy/horror bit of schlock that disguises how lame it is by making you pay attention to different things being shown simultaneously. The distraction works to a point, but only just.
(1979)
Dir - James L. Wilson
Overall: MEH
The only film to be directed by James L. Wilson, Screams of a Winter Night is both one of the decade's many to be in the anthology horror vein and one of many to be regionally made. Shot in Louisiana with local actors that no one has ever heard of, it revolves around a bunch of boring white people who tell campfire stories at a remote cabin in the woods. The results are more inconsistent than outright terrible. Story-wise, each of the tales is instantly forgettable, (a dwarf creature attacking people in a car, a couple of schlubs spending the night in an abandoned haunted hotel, a woman going crazy after stabbing her rapist, and a supernatural Native American force that terrorizes the main characters), but the presentation has its moments. Whether unintentional or not, several scenes dip their toes into the surreal and Wilson makes effective use out of suggestive sounds, alluding to more freaky things than he has the budget to show. That said, the finale goes full-tilt with violently howling winds driving everyone to screaming hysterics. Unfortunately, the whole thing is paced like a bucked of molasses trudging through a swamp full of molasses, plus the characters are as annoying as they are snore-inducing to tolerate. If one can forgive the shortcomings and also has enough caffeine in their systems though, there is some weirdness here to appreciate.
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