The Lightning Bug's Lair

Love, The Lair-ican Style- Cat People (1982): A Love That Could Not Be

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 18:36:00 +0000

How does one put out fire with gasoline? Not very well I would imagine, but that is the suggested method included in David Bowie’s theme song to Paul Schrader’s Cat People. More on that song later, but for now, I want to welcome everyone to the first installment of Love, The Lair-ican Style, four weeks of romances that don’t fit the mushy norm. After all, not everyone wants to watch sappy stuff for Valentine’s Day. I’ll be the first to admit that deep down I’m a big softie. I like to see hearts swell with love, but if they occasionally burst open into a bloody mess that‘s not a bad thing. One of the first movies that came to mind when I thought of this feature was Cat People. While Jacques Tourner’s original 1942 version of Cat People is a certified classic, Paul Schrader hit the mark with the erotic, the gory, the strange, the sick, and the romantic with his 1982 remake.

As the film begins, Irena (Natasha Kinski) arrives in New Orleans to meet her brother Paul (Malcolm McDowell) who she was separated from when her parents died and they were placed in foster care. Shortly after she arrives, Paul disappears just before a panther is captured in a seedy motel after attacking a prostitute. The panther is taken to the zoo, and while seeing some of the town, Irena is drawn to the zoo and the panther in particular. She meets zoologist Oliver Yates (John Heard) and takes a job working at the zoo. The panther continues its violent behavior and escapes the zoo. Only then does Paul reappear. He reveals to Irena they are both members of a race of cat people, and if she makes love to anyone other than her brother, she will also turn into a vicious cat and the only way to change back is to take a life. Now she must choose between Oliver, the man she loves, and becoming an uncontrollable killer.

The same year that John Carpenter delved back into classic horror for inspiration for his film The Thing, Paul Schrader and writer Alan Ormsby (Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things, Popcorn, My Bodyguard) raided producer Val Lewton’s catalog for Cat People (1942). They made quite a few changes, giving the cat people an incestuous back story, amping up the sex and violence, and changing the setting from New York City to New Orleans (Go Saints!), but on the whole, they stayed fairly true to the structure and some of the iconic portions of Tourner’s film. That’s not to say that the two films are not wildly different. After all, the cursed young woman in the 1942 film didn’t spend the last half of the film topless like Ms. Kinksi does, but the remake really gets it right, honoring the original and putting a very modern spin on it.

When it comes to edgy modern spin, there was a time when Paul Schrader was the go to guy. In the early ‘70’s, he made his name with screenplays for films like Taxi Driver, Obsession, and Raging Bull, and then by the end of the decade when he turned to directing, he maintained his edge with films like Hardcore and American Gigolo. By the time the early eighties rolled around, Schrader was on a creative roll, but he was also on a ton of drugs. The director himself even admits to losing a whole day of filming on Cat People because he was too high to come out of his trailer. How he managed to make a film as coherent, interesting, and visually interesting as Cat People is beyond me. Working with cinematographer John Bailey, Schrader captured a melancholy, mysterious feel similar to Tourner’s original and infused an eroticism that made the film his own.

I’m sure many people feel the driving force behind the film’s sexuality is star Natasha Kinski. While Klaus’ daughter is quite lovely, I found her performance much more interesting than her nude scenes. Throughout the film it is really interesting to watch her to see how she subtly incorporated catlike behaviors into her performance. There is only one time that she took it a little too far, and thankfully it was near the end of the film. Otherwise her performance was pitch perfect, and her chemistry with love interest John Heard is wonderful. Their scenes are really the core of the film, and the explorations of the themes of female sexuality are very interesting. Heard’s zoologist Oliver is trained to be able to handle the wildest of beasts, but the panther inside of Irena is beyond his control. By the end of the film, Oliver has no choice but to literally restrain the woman he loves in order to control her wild side. While the message is not delicate, it is well scripted and doesn’t feel either too obtuse or try to beat you over the head with it.

One of the greatest things about Cat People is the supporting cast. Then, as now, if you need someone to be a massive creep in your film, the man to call is Malcolm McDowell. As the crazy eyed, murderous, incest desiring brother Paul, McDowell is the instrument that Schrader used to build tension in the first half of his film, and as usual Malcolm delivered. While many other actors can be creepy, there is a certain look that McDowell can get that will just send shivers up and down your spine, and in Cat People he uses it to full effect. There are several other actors that make brief appearances that are worth mentioning even though they have very small roles in the film. I was happy to spot Ed Begley Jr. (Transylvania 6-5000, Best in Show), John Larroquette (Night Court), Ruby Dee (American Gangster), Ray Wise (Swamp Thing, Twin Peaks, Reaper), and Annette O’Toole (48 Hours, Superman III) all showing up in minor roles.

My first exposure so Schrader’s film came in the mid-eighties through the theme song, Cat People (Putting Out the Fire) by David Bowie. While Bowie recorded the song for the movie, he also laid down a more rocking version for his Let’s Dance album (featuring guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughn). The score by Giorgio Moroder was nearly complete when Schrader approached Bowie about adding lyrics to a closing theme that Moroder had already written. Bowie accepted, but the song he penned had precious little to do with the film. Even so it’s tons of fun to think of other things to end the lyric “Putting out fire with gasoline”. My wife and I went back and forth on this for quite some time, and I think my favorite was “Putting out fire with Martin Sheen”. (If you used Charlie, it would no doubt just get worse.) The other interesting thing about the song is that it was the only modern pop song that Tarantino pulled for his film Inglourious Basterds. Used during the theater fire scene, it fit strangely well into the film and felt a little more pertinent than it did in Cat People.

Cat People is a love story, but it’s not without throats getting ripped out and Ed Begley Jr. getting his arm ripped off. It would be 20 years before Schrader had another successful film, 2002’s Auto Focus which also dealt with sexual perversions, and these days he is a director that is somewhat forgotten. Cat People is a film that certainly should not be forgotten. While many will disparage the film in comparison to the original, Schrader’s film stand fully on its own, and it’s the perfect kind of film for those of us who like a like a little bit of guts and gore mixed up in their romance.

Bugg Rating

She Beast (1966): Oooh, oooh, Witchy Woman

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 16:37:00 +0000

As this has been pronounced Women in Horror month, I thought I should kick off the first B.L.O.G entry for this month with one of my favorite horror film queens, Barbara Steele. Ms. Steele made a handful of films prior to Black Sunday, but Bava’s film really kick-started her career and led to a string of gothic Italian films. If you look through her résumé, you’ll find precious little material that isn’t a horror or cult film, but she didn’t always take too kindly to being typecast and once remarked she never wanted “to climb out of a f**king coffin again.” Back in 1966, Ms. Steele had barely begun to scramble out of coffins, but she wouldn’t have to use those skills when she appeared in Michael Reeves film She Beast [Italian: La sorella di Satana].

When English honeymooners Veronica (Barbara Steele) and Phillip (Ian Ogilvy) stop for the night in a Transylvanian hotel, they hear a local legend about a vengeful witch who was executed hundreds of years ago by drowning in the lake. They leave the hotel early the next morning, and on their drive out of town, they are run off the road and crash into the lake. The truck driver that caused the crash pulls Phillip to safety, but Veronica’s body can’t be found. In its place, a rotten corpse is found, and Count von Helsing (John Karlsen), who claims to be a descendent of Van Helsing, believes it to be the body of the witch. The Count resurrects the witch (presumably because his ancestors took out vampires so what trouble could one witch cause), and, of course, she goes on a killing spree. It’s up to Phillip and von Helsing to stop the witch if Phillip ever wants to see his wife again.

I picked this film for a couple of different reasons. First, it was only a couple of weeks back that Fran Goria reviewed Michael Reeves most well regarded film, Witchfinder General, and secondly, this film had Barbara Steele who still ranks as one of the most fetching scream queens. Unfortunately, on a couple of different counts I was let down. The film, while fairly interesting, definitely does not stack up to Witchfinder, and it also strikes a clumsy tone right between horror and comedy that doesn’t quite work, The other problem is that the top billed Steele only appears in about fifteen minutes of this eighty minute film. In fact, I understand she shot all of her scenes in the span of one twelve hour day of shooting,

Regardless of the fact that she’s not in the majority of the film, one of the real bright spots is Steele. Not only does she deliver a solid performance in her short time on screen but it’s also nice to see her in modern ‘60’s clothing rather than the usual gothic garb she had to wear. It seemed that Steele and her co-star Ian Ogilvy had good chemistry too, and it’s a shame that they didn’t get more time together. Ogilvy is left to carry the film when Steele disappears and he does a decent job with what he had. Unfortunately, the script is too packed with anti-communist jokes and sight gags to ever get too far off the ground. Ogilvy did a find job as the hero, but there was no saving the movie in general.

The comic tone of the film did suit John Karlsen as Count von Helsing. Karlsen sells his eccentric character completely, and I always like seeing him pop up in things. What always strikes me about Karlsen is the length of his career. From 1958’s The Naked Maja to 2003’s The Order with Heath Ledger, Karlsen was a solid character actor and appeared in everything from The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t and Frankenstein Unbound to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and 8 ½. She Beast also features another great character actor, Mel Welles as the peeping tom/would be rapist/hotel manager named Groper. Welles is probably best known as Gravis Mushnik in Roger Corman’s Little Shop of Horrors, but he also made appearances in The Last American Virgin and High School Confidential! Welles nearly steals the show in She Beast. His over the top commie hotel manager is doubtlessly the highlight of the film’s comic portions, and ultimately he is dispatched with a hammer and sickle making for my favorite scene in the film.

She Beast was no a horrible film. I found myself rather enjoying it, and the short running time was definitely a plus. It was, however, not really what I expected. Much of the film feels like a pained attempt at a communist sitcom by way of the Keystone Cops paired with a script that Hammer film had thrown in the bin. Michael Reeves only directed four films in his short career, and thankfully this film is far overshadowed by Witchfinder General and The Sorcerers. If you’re a big fan of Ms. Steele then this is a film you’ll have to see even though she has limited screen time, but horror fans looking for classic chills won’t find them here. What you will find is a ton of Red Scare humor, a resurrected witch with a face like a bloody turd, and an entertaining enough way to spend eighty minutes.

Bugg Rating

Hear It Here! Sinful Cinema Episode 1 with T.L Bugg and Rev. Phantom

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 17:00:00 +0000

That's right it's finally here the first episode of Sinful Cinema, and its available right here for you to download or listen to right on the site. So check it out, and let us know what you think. It might be a little rough around the edges, but hey, it's episode one and we love movies that are rough around the edges, why not a podcast? So tune in, give it a listen, and let us know what you think either in the comments section or you can e-mail the show at Sinful Cinema and you might just hear your comments on episode 2. Hope everyone enjoys and we'll be back again next week with another episode.

Sinful Cinema Episode 1

:House of 1000 Mercenaries

Apocalypse domani (1980) [a.k.a Cannibal Apocolypse]: John Saxon Wants To Have You For Dinner

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 11:00:00 +0000

Antonio Margheriti is a director whose name will now be synonymous with Eli Roth. Not because they share a similar style or vision, but instead because Quentin Tarantino joined the two. In Inglourious Basterds, when Roth’s character Donny is prodded to introduce himself at the movie theater, he produces, with an outrageous accent, the name “Antonio Margheriti.” I’ll have to say it gave me a good chuckle when I saw that part of the film, but at the time, I only knew Margheriti from the tepid Video Nasty Flesh for Frankenstein (a.k.a. Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein). Only recently when I was delving deeper into the career of John Saxon did I read about tonight’s film, Apocalypse domani. Now in the States, we call this one Cannibal Apocalypse or Cannibals in the Streets or Savage Slaughterers or Savage Apocalypse or….you get the idea. This one’s had a few titles, but here's a new one for it, one of my favorite cannibal movies.

John Saxon stars as Norman Hooper, a Vietnam vet who is troubled by his wartime experiences. He was sent in to rescue a couple of prisoners from a POW camp. When he found them, he was surprised to see that they were hometown boys Charlie (Giovanni Lombardo Radice) and Tom (Tony King), but he was shocked to see that they were surviving on a diet of human flesh. The troops save the two men, but Norman gets bitten in the process. When they get back to the States, Norman begins to develop an unnatural appetite, and when they release Charlie from the hospital thinking he is cured, he takes a bite out of a buxom theater patron. The three men have been infected with a virus, one that spreads cannibalism, and it threatens to take over the streets.

With only Flesh for Frankenstein to inform my judgment, I didn’t know what to expect with this urban cannibal picture, but in the eight years between the two films, Margheriti directed seven other films and had plenty of time to grow as a film maker. He definitely did. There is rarely a film I see that has everything, action, comedy, drama, puffy down vests, and horror, but Cannibal Apocalypse delivers on all fronts. The script by Margheriti and Dardano Sacchetti (New York Ripper, The Cat o’ Nine Tails) plunges its way trough a litany of genre film conventions, and it manages to come away as an extremely entertaining film that mashes up parts of Rambo, Dawn of the Dead, and Anthropophagus to deliver a pacey 96 minutes sure to please any genre film fan.

I mean for starters you’ve got a great cast. John Saxon is in top form as Norman Hooper, and he really sells the conflicted cannibal storyline without taking it too far. I mean here’s a guy who wants to eat people, he even nibbles around on the jailbait girl from next door, but he fights it for as long as he can. You feel bad for the guy, but once he goes full blown human gourmand, it’s just as much fun to see the coppers take him down. Saxon gets a lot of help in his scenes from Elizabeth Turner as his wife Jane. This was Turner’s last film after a short career that included appearances in Fulci’s The Psychic and Assonitis’ Beyond the Door, and that’s a shame. Apocalypse seems to have been her highest profile role, and she gave a solid performance.

Now I can’t really go further into the performances without talking about a fellow that I can’t seem to go too long without mentioning, Giovanni Lombardo Radice. It was just the other day he popped up in Deleria a.k.a Stage Fright, and it was great to see him here again. Radice had a much larger role than usual. It was amazing to see him do so much more than just show up and get killed in a horribly nasty way. That’s not to say that the latter doesn’t happen, but Giovanni is allowed to have a number of great scenes before then. (Plus there’s the added bonus that his character name is Charles Bukowski, a name he shares with one of my favorite drunks/poets who was portrayed by Mickey Rourke in the film Barfly.) He really gets his moment to shine during a police standoff that seems right out of the John Rambo playbook. It’s a sequence that could have felt out of place, but Radice, with some help from Saxon, really pulls it off to be an exciting set piece. Many of his other scenes, he shares with Tony King, an actor I know as Zach from Hell Up in Harlem and Clifford from Richard Pryor’s The Toy. King has little to do but walk around, act menacing, and bite people, but it looked like he and Radice were having a good time doing it.

Margheriti chose great people to work behind the camera as well as in front of it. One of the best choices he made for his film was the score by Alexander Blonksteiner. I have to admit that I had never heard to Blonksteiner before, but I know many of the films he worked on including Syndicate Sadists, Violent Naples, and White Fang. Yet on those films he was employed as a conductor (and occasionally writer of additional music). Blonksteiner only boasts Cannibal Apocalypse and The Erotic Adventures of Robinson Crusoe as original solo compositions. Now that is really a shame. Blonksteiner throws prog, rock, pop, disco, funk, and new wave into a blender and the result is a funky score that verges on self parody without ever crossing the line. As soon as I got done watching the movie, I dug up a copy of the score, and I can’t wait until I have a chance to listen to it top to bottom.

So if you’re looking for a film that’s got everything from gore and action to a great score and John Saxon, then you couldn’t do a whole lot better. I haven't even had a chance to talk about the film's subtext of male sexual power and the effects of warfare, but there's plenty there to dwell upon as well. As an added bonus for me, Cannibal Apocalypse was filmed in Atlanta, Ga. and I had a great time trying to spot landmarks throughout the film (my favorite was chase down an Atlanta freeway that passes the exit for William’s Street, well known now for the site of the Adult Swim studios.) From top to bottom, Margheriti served up a cannibal movie that went far outside the norm to breathe some life back into a sub-genre I was completely tired of watching. This is one you shouldn’t miss if you like horror films in general, but for the Italian horror buff, it should be on their shortlist of must sees. And who knows, the next time you have to make up an Italian name for yourself because you’re being questioned by Nazis, you might just find yourself being Antonio Margheriti.

Bugg Rating

Forty Guns (1957): Barbara Stanwyck Whips The Wild West

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 17:56:00 +0000

The first film I saw starring with Barbara Stanwyck was The Lady of Burlesque (1943) where the actress was playing a thinly veiled version of Gypsy Rose Lee who had written the original novel. It detailed the rivalry between Stanwyck’s Dixie and dancing diva Princess Nirvena, and the whole thing plays out like prehistoric Showgirls, all of the cat fighting none of the vulgarity. Stanwyck managed to rise above the material, and her striking good looks really carried the film. So when I heard about a Western that starred Stanwyck as a black clad, whip wielding, iron fisted rancher, my interest was piqued. When I found out it was directed by Sam Fuller, then I knew I had to see Forty Guns (1957).

Stanwyck stars as Jessica Drummond who rules her Arizona county with the help of a phalanx of 40 loyal gunman, but when reluctant gun for hire Griff Bonell (Barry Sullivan) and his two brothers, Wes and Chico, ride into town to serve a warrant, her grip on the town is tested after her brother Brockie (John Erikson) guns down Griff’s old friend, the town marshal. Griff throws Brockie in jail, but Jessica uses her pull to spring him out. This sparks a love/hate relationship between the rancher and the visiting gunman, but when Brockie guns down Wes on his wedding day, Griff will go through anything, even the woman he loves, to get his revenge.

Barbara Stanwyck was forty nine years old when she took on the role of Jessica Drummond, but even so she still has a striking a beautiful look. The harder edge that age had given her only made her more suited for this role as a hardened, independent woman who had become powerful in a male dominated world. The image of the black clad Stanwyck riding across the plains with her line of forty gunmen is a striking image, and serves as a great introduction to the character. It should also be said that there is some great riding in the film, and most of it was done by Stanwyck. In fact, one scene required her character to be dragged by her horse. When her stunt double refused, Stanwyck did the stunt herself coming away with only a few bumps and bruises.

Over the course of the film, Jessica Drummond does soften, and Stanwyck still performs admirably even though the love story portion of the film does come a bit out of left field. The film actually contains two love stories, one between Griff and Jessica and one between Wes and the daughter of the local gunsmith. One of the most interesting things about the film, and Sam Fuller’s original script, is how peppered it is with double entendre and insinuation. Here’s the best example of what I’m talking about:

Jessica Drummond: I'm not interested in you, Mr. Bonnell. It's your trademark. [gestures at his gun, purring] May I feel it?

Griff Bonnell: Uh-uh.

Jessica Drummond: Just curious.

Griff Bonnell: It might go off in your face.

Jessica Drummond: I'll take a chance.

There’s no real question as to what they were getting at there, and there are several other sexual references in the film. The dialog is all very crisp, and it has a much less langid style as compared to other Westerns of the same period. It sounds like what it is, a Western written entirely by a city dwelling former newsman turned director.

Fuller wrote, directed, and produced Forty Guns, and it feels like a Sam Fuller movie through and through. From the square jawed hero pose that Barry Sullivan struck to the shades of grey that infiltrated the Western genre when black and white hats were de rigueur at the time, Fullers film took portions of the standard Western film and tweaked them to his view.The film also benefits from some great cinematography. The town looks and feels alive and the streets and people are covered with a layer of dust, and the level of detail and choice of shots are all so well done. It gives the film a unique look that is very different from other Westerns. The only reservation I have about Fuller’s Western film revisionism is the inclusion of a singing cowboy in the proceedings. While it is one of the background character, it really felt jarring when the film would be going along smoothly only to be interrupted by a song. When it happened once and seemed to function as a theme song, then I was willing to look over it, but the fact that it happened three more times in a 80 minute film felt like a mistake.

Forty Guns does get bogged down in its own melodrama, but thankfully the short running time, great visuals, and strong performances fend this off. Fuller crafted a film that was outside of the box, but in a way it is the spiritual forefather of films like McCabe and Mrs. Miller and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. By casting Barbara Stanwyck as such a powerful, strong character, Fuller broke a mold that still strikes people as a novelty when films like The Quick and the Dead are mentioned. If you like the Western genre, then I think this offbeat classic should get a watch, but it probably is too heavy on the drama and light on the gunplay for everyone’s taste.

Bugg Rating

Couldn't find a trailer so here's a nice clip

Roadgames (1981): Rear Window on 18 Wheels

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 03:22:00 +0000

On a long car trip, I’m not opposed to playing a car game or two. Who doesn’t like a rousing round of the Alphabet Game or Car bingo? One of the lesser known road trip pastimes is The Suspect That The Driver In A Creepy Van Is A Murderer And Try To Uncover The Truth With Assistance From Assorted Hitchhikers Game. Not only is it far too long a title for a game, but it also takes a very special set of circumstances to make it playable. It just so happens that Richard Franklin’s appropriately titled film Roadgames details just such a situation. So while we might never get a chance to play, we can still watch and enjoy seeing one of the best players of all time playing the game.

That player of course is Patrick ’Pat’ Quid (Stacy Keach) who would be quick to inform you that even though he drives a truck it doesn’t mean he’s a truck driver. Before starting a long haul to deliver meat to Perth, Australia, Quid tries to check into a hotel, but the last room gets rented out to a guy in a green van. Pat ends up having to sleep in his truck overnight, jealous of the bed and the pretty hitchhiker that the stranger in the green van took to his room. The next morning, Quid sees the same guy acting strangely, and after hearing about a Jack the Ripper style killer, he starts to believe that Mr. Smith or Jones in the Green Van (Grant Page) must be the killer. Quid picks up pretty young hitchhiker Pamela (Jamie Lee Curtis), but when they begin to investigate the Smith or Jones, Pamela gets kidnapped and the authorities begin to suspect that Quid is her abductor.

During the filming of Franklin’s previous film, Patrick, he gave a copy of the script for Rear Window to his screenwriter friend Everette De Roche and told him about his idea of using the Australian outback as the backdrop for a thriller. This conversation lead De Roche to pen Roadgames, a film that wears its Hitchcockian influences on its sleeve. Like James Stewart’s character in Rear Window, Stacy Keach’s Quid is a shut in as well, all be it a mobile one. Quid is trapped interacting with the world from his perch in the cab of his truck with few human interactions. The only two people who enter his world are a talkative middle aged woman whose husband abandoned her by the road named Frida Day (Marion Edward) and the girl he picks up and refers to as “Hitch”, Jamie Lee Curtis’ Pamela. Clearly these two women are the stand-ins for Rear Window’s Thelma Ritter and Grace Kelly respectively.

The references to Hitchcock don’t end there. Not two minutes after Quid meets Frida Day does she informs him that her daughter is named “Doris Day like the American actress” who starred in The Man Who Knew Too Much. When Pamela rifles through Quid’s things, she uncovers a copy of a Hitchcock mystery magazine. Quid spies on Mr. Smith or Jones though binoculars like Stewart watches from his apartment, and Pamela goes into the killer’s lair and gets caught much like Grace Kelly breaking into Raymond Burr’s place in Rear Window. There is also a rotating cast of characters that Quid sees from the truck much like the other residents of the apartment complex. From Mr. Balls to the Frugal family and Captain Careful, these characters add a layer of comic relief and depth to the story much like Hitchcock did with his film.

Stacy Keach also really comes across like the male lead in one of Hitch’s film. While he spouts poetry and quotations, he is a terribly isolated and disconnected figure with only his dog Boswell to keep him company. One of the most genius strokes in Roadgames is how Keach and Franklin teamed up to display Quid’s descent into sleep deprived madness. Keach’s performance is strong throughout, but as he restlessly tries to track down Smith or Jones, the actor and filmmaker cleverly ease the character into a dialog with himself. It doesn’t take long before the lines between thinking in one’s head and actually carrying on a conversation with one’s self become quite muddied. I have long been a fan of Keach, but this film really shows off his chops. It’s also important to note that Quid is not the stock hero type, and if you need any proof of that, then just cue up the scene where he tries to chase the killer with a stolen motorcycle only to crash the bike. Even if his character was a bit of a putz, Mr. Keach actually learned how to drive the big rig so he (and who would ever question it) was a certified badass.

The supporting cast was quite good as well. Jamie Lee Curtis, who Franklin had met when he visited the set of John Carpenter’s The Fog, makes for a spunky, fresh faced counterpart to Quid’s erudite truck driver. Marion Edward also really made an impression in her short role as Frida, and I really enjoyed seeing her show each time she would pop up in the film. The same goes for the other passing characters. Even though most of them had little to no dialog, they were all memorable and created a rich world for the suspense thriller to exist in.

There are two more people I must talk about in conjunction with this film. The first of those is composer Brian May. No, sadly, not Brian May of Queen, but rather Brian May the Australian composer who worked on Patrick, Thirst, Mad Max, Turkey Shoot, and a number of other Auss-ploitation films. To go along with Franklin’s Hitchcock inspired film, May definitely took his cues from Bernard Herrmann’s work with the director and Franz Waxman’s score for Rear Window. There are several variations of memorable Hitchcock themes in Roadgames, and it adds an extra layer of feeling to the already suspenseful film.

I also want to mention cinematographer Vincent Monton, who also shot Long Weekend and Thirst. Monton did a great job with the entirety of the film, but the driving footage is really spectacular. He also captured the wide open spaces of the Australian countryside in such a way that it almost feels claustrophobic, and I would not be surprised if some of the inspiration came from the crop duster scene in Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. There is also quite the collection of impressive camera movies in this film. One, a full 360 degree pan while Quid talks on the phone, was the source of a disagreement between Franklin and the American distribution company. They thought the whole scene was frivolous and added nothing to the film, but they could not have been further from the truth. These daring moves with the camera really make the countryside that Quid moves though seem quite dreamlike and surreal.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I really love this film. From its Hitchcock references to the acting and great look, Franklin brought together a film that holds up just as well as when it was made. It’s no wonder that after this film he would go right into filling Hitch’s shoes and directing Psycho II. Roadgames proves Franklin to be a skilled filmmaker, and it’s a shame that his star never really rose. I can’t recommend this one enough. It may not be a perfect film, but for me, it was near enough. I’m giving Roadgames my highest praise, and I hope you folks check it out. Not only do you get to see a great film, but the next time you go on a long road trip, you’ll have a fun way to pass the time.

Bugg Rating

Deliria a.k.a Stage Fright (1987): A Killer Who Gives a Hoot About his Work

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 16:00:00 +0000

When I was a kid, before I committed myself to the written word, I had aspirations to be an actor. I wanted to tread the boards, and nothing was going to stop me. I even ended up in a few productions, but as I got older, I found out that I wasn’t really keen on being in front of a large group of people. It seems that I had stage fright, and as luck would have it when I looked to see what I might want to review this week, I once again had Stage Fright. No I don’t mean I was afraid of coming out here and talking to you fine folks. I mean that I had a neglected copy of Michele Soavi’s 1987 film Deliria a.k.a Stage Fright that was begging to be reviewed. Soavi’s one of those directors who often slip my mind, but with films like Dellamorte Dellamore (Cemetery Man) and La chiesa (The Church), he should be hard to forget. By the time the curtains finally close on tonight’s tale, I hope that Mr. Soavi and his film will be stuck in my mind.

It all starts when a modern dance company is practicing for a big show that opens in a few days. The hard-ass director Paul (David Brandon) had forbid anyone from leaving the theater during practice for any reason, but when the star of the show, Alicia (Barbara Cupisti), twists her ankle her friend Betty sneaks her out to take her to a hospital. Unfortunately, the nearest place is a mental hospital, but they find a nice doctor who takes pity on Alicia and treats her. They also get a glimpse at deranged actor Irving Wallace (Clain Parker) who is being kept there after killing fifteen people. Wallace escapes just in time to stow away in the girl’s car, and soon he’s in the theater, donning a giant owl mask, and dispatching the cast and crew one by one.

One of the best things about this film is how Michele Soavi draws you into the world of the film. As the picture opens, a strange, birdlike looking hooker is assaulted and pulled back into an alleyway, but then as people pop out of windows and a Marilyn Monroe impersonator begins to blow a mean sax on a rooftop, the camera pulls out to reveal it is all part of a stage production. This simple little trick got me involved in the film very quickly, and it leads perfectly into establishing the setting, the tone, and then into the characters. It also establishes the tone for the film. Stage Fright is not exactly a straightforward slasher film. Soavi’s film Dellamorte Dellamore took the zombie film and turned it on its ear, and while Stage Fright doesn’t change the formula as radically, it does have a stripe of dark humor that runs throughout the film.

I can’t give Mr. Soavi all the credit for crafting a movie outside the norms of ‘80’s slasher films. The script was written by none other than Lair favorite George Eastman (with some help from Shelia Goldberg on dialog). Eastman is best known as the star of Joe D’Amato’s films Anthropophagus and the pseudo-sequel Absurd, but few realize that Eastman wrote those two films along with Castellari’s Keoma (1976), D’Amato’s Porno Holocaust (1981), and Stage Fright. The script is very well paced, and I commend it for giving the film the extremely darkly comic moments. There is one thing about this film I want to clear up. I’ve seen this listed many times as a giallo, but it is clearly not. The killer’s identity is clearly known, and there are no red herrings inserted to even make you think otherwise. Giallo came to the States and became the slasher film, but by 1987, the slasher had headed back over the ocean to influence Eastman and Soavi’s Stage Fright.

For as clever as the script and film making felt, the cast falls a bit short. Barbara Cupisti’s Alicia is very obviously intended to be the final girl from the time she is introduced, but I never could latch onto the character enough to care about her. This was an even bigger problem for the scads of nearly nameless dancers that become the killer’s victim after acting like a flock of bitches. The film tries to make Alicia sympathetic, but she comes off like a flaky mess and no better than her peers. The same can be said about David Brandon as the director Paul. He becomes one of the heroic characters in the film, but after forty plus minutes of him acting like a massive asshole, I was so ready for the Owl headed killer to catch up with him.

Speaking of which, I need to get around to the killer. Actor Clain Parker has a strange name, but he had very little to do as Irving Wallace as he only has a total of 2-3 minutes of screen time not wearing the Owl mask. Yet once he’s in it, it makes for a very unique killer that was really fun to see. The high point has to be when Paul thinks that Wallace is the dancer that is supposed to be wearing the Owl head. He invites the killer onto the stage and then proceeds to taunt him into killing. This is the perfect example of the dark comic tone of the film. Paul is nearly frothing at the mouth wanting his imaginary bloodlust quenched, but when Wallace stabs the girl to death in front of them, the romanticism of the murders in their bloody, erotic, modern dance routine is shattered.

Of course you can’t have dancing without music, and Simon Boswell’s score for the film is a classic. Filled with ‘80’s synths that really have that driving Miami Vice feel to them, I found myself often just listening to the score when scenes of dancers sniping at each other would come around. The score is also really well used when the killer takes command of the sound board and starts playing creepy killer music. I mean there’s a guy who really has pride in his work. Not only does he want to kill them, he wants to make sure that he’s got theme music to work with as well.

I could keep on about Stage Fright and pick apart the things I like and those I don’t, but in the end, things are pretty evenly matched. (For each scene that features Giovanni Lombardo Radice as an over the top gay costumer, there’s a montage that featuring a girl shaving her armpits.) Stage Fright will stick in my mind though because of the Owl headed killer if not for anything else, but it doesn’t really stack up compared to Soavi’s other films. If you’re interested in seeing how the American slasher influenced an Italian director, then I would encourage you to check this out. However, if you’ve never seen anything from Michele Soavi before, then start with Dellamorte Dellamore.

Bugg Rating

For the Love of Price: Witchfinder General (1968)

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 16:19:00 +0000

Some romances know not the bounds of time, space, distance, dimension, or the cinema screen. One such romance has occurred between The LBL’s Fran Goria and Vincent Price. Once in a while the pull is just too overwhelming, and Miss Goria must put pen to paper for the love of the man, for the love of his movies…..

Witchfinder General (1968) Directed by Michael Reeves Written by Michael Reeves and Tom Baker (based on a novel by Ronald Bassett) Starring: Vincent Price, Ian Ogilvy, Hillary Dwyer and Robert Russell.

Mathew Hopkins (Price) and his assistant, John Stearne (Russell), travel the country side doing “God’s work”. In this case, “God’s work” is finding, torturing, and killing those accused of witchery. Stearne particularly likes the torture part of the job, especially if ladies are involved. They travel to Brandeston where the local priest, Father Lowes (Rupert Davies), is accused of being Satan’s cohort. Hopkins shows the priest mercy in return for sexual favors from his niece, Sarah (Dwyer). Stearne rapes Sarah while Hopkins is away, and as a result, Hopkins has the priest hanged for witchcraft. When Sarah’s soldier fiancé, Richard Marshal (Ogilvy), hears the news, he makes a vow. He will find the two men and make them answer for their sins.

Witchfinder General a cult classic for two main reasons. First of all, it contains one of Price’s best and most menacing performances, and combined with Michael Reeves’ talent as a director, the film really shines. Not to mention that it is based on a novel about a bit of history. In 1645, during England’s civil war, there was a young man named Mathew Hopkins who traveled the country side convicting and executing witches. He had various tests to look for witchcraft, some of which are seen in the film. Many of these scenes were cut from the English version of the film, but remained intact for the American release. The American release also received a name change to cash in on the Roger Corman/Price/Poe films. The name was changed to Conqueror Worm after a Poe poem, and they cut in Vincent Price giving a reading of the poem over the closing credits.

Michael Reeves was a very promising young director, but sadly, Witchfinder General was his fourth and last film. Reeves’ life was cut short in 1969 from a barbiturates and alcohol overdose. Reeves had three quite successful films under his belt when he took the helm of Witchfinder which included The Sorcerers (1967) with Boris Karloff, She Beast (1966) with Barbara Steele, and Castle of the Living Dead (1964) with Christopher Lee. When he originally took on directing Witchfinder, Reeves envisioned Donald Pleasance in the lead role, and he was none to happy with the casting of Vincent Price. Reeves did not hide his feelings for the actor and the two clashed on set on many occasions. However, they were both professional enough to make a classic film. After Price saw the finished product, he sent Reeves a letter of congrats. In it, he wrote “So, my dear Michael, in spite of the fact that we didn’t get along too well…….I do think that you have made a very fine picture, and what’s more I liked what you gave me to do.” Price also once called the man difficult but brilliant once again proving what a class act Vincent really was.

Perhaps it was the tension on set that caused Price to deliver such a real and raw performance that showcases one of the most memorable roles of the actor’s career. He really had a commanding presence as Mathew Hopkins. There was none of the over-the-top characterizations that most have come to know from Price. His portrayal of Hopkins was as true as it gets, dark and sinister. During the “swimming test” scene, after the three accused witches were fished from the lake, Hopkins looks at the body of the one that drowned and said “She was innocent”. At that moment, I knew this man was pure evil. Price delivered a fierce performance in this role, but the rest of the cast, while all competent, did not reach Price’s level of skill.

Now, I must confess, Witchfinder General is not one of my favorite Vincent Price films. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. Price was spectacular in it. Hollywood even tried to cash in on it again with 1970’s Cry of the Banshee. It starred Price (in a very similar role), and Hillary Dwyer, but alas, it was no Witchfinder General. I have seen this, along with many other witch huntin’ movies, and Witchfinder is by far the best, but I just need more excitement. Perhaps I am biased, but I was never really big on witches anyway. If it were not for Price shining so brightly, I would probably not revisit this one, but he was just so damn great! I definitely think that everybody should see this film, especially a classic film fan or a fellow Vincent Price fan (but they've probably already seen it). Overall, I liked my visit to Brandeston, but I wouldn’t want to live there..... or die there from drowning.

Price Rating

Kansas City Bomber (1972): Raquel Welch and Roller Derby. Need I Say More?

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 05:39:00 +0000

Before we get into the post today, I want to thank B-Sol for having me on his new podcast Conversations in the Dark. Go on over to the Vault of Horror and check out the podcast to hear what happens when B-Sol meets the B-ugg to talk about upcoming releases. Of course, check it out after this installment of Beautiful Ladies of Genre.

The seventies were a magical time. The idea that originated in the sixties, that anything was possible, seemed to be coming true. Unfortunately, it mainly focused its power on messed up stuff. Take for example roller derby. Nowadays, when the sport comes up all you see is tattooed, rockabilly/punk girls skating under names like Eva Destruction, but at one time roller derby’s stock was up. In 1972, franchises were being set up, televised bouts of both male and female teams were popping up on network television, and roller derby was becoming big business. Naturally, someone had to make a film. A gritty look into the world of professional roller derby, and who better to play the lead role in Kansas City Bomber than one of the hottest ladies that the seventies could offer, Raquel Welch.

Ms. Welch stars as K.C. Carr, a star skater of the Kansas City team, but K.C. is traded off after she catches the attention of Portland based derby promoter Burt Henry (Kevin McCarthy). He sees star potential in K.C, but this doesn’t sit too well with the rest of the Portland Loggers. Current star skater Jackie Burdett (Helena Kallianiotes) definitely takes a disliking to K.C., and Jackie retreats into constant drinking while K.C. takes her place. Trying to juggle her job, her friends, her two kids, and the expectations of her corporate stooge boyfriend, K.C. struggles to keep her life together and be the best and baddest on eight wheels.

Kansas City Bomber is simply enough a mash-up of melodrama and roller derby, and despite what you might expect, it actually works pretty well. I’ve always really liked Raquel Welch’s acting. Not only is she exceedingly beautiful to look at, she also has turned in some great performances in films like Myra Breckinridge and 1969’s 100 Rifles. Her performance as K.C. Carr is really the glue that holds the narrative and the spliced in skating action together. I will have to say that there is precious little of the skating performed by the actress. She makes up for athletic feats with a sensitive performance of a woman trying to find her way in a literally violent world. Welch comes off as strong, independent, and little out of control, and this performance should have silenced critics of her acting.

The critics had another darling in mind to laud though. Helena Kallianiotes really brings the alcoholic, bitter, haggard Jackie Burdett to life, and while she was nominated for a Golden Globe for the performance, I thought it was rather one note. She does have an awesome look, and it’s a long way from her debut performance as a belly dancer in the Monkees’ film Head. The other performance that deserves a mention is Norman Alden as Horrible Hank Hopkins, a simpleton skater that is constantly the target of abuse. Alden doesn’t go too far over the top (at least not until his story concludes), and his shy flirtation with Welch’s character actually brings about an emotional conclusion that could easily ended up a hamfisted mess.

For all these good performances, one of the best things to see is the roller derby footage. Looking into this film, I saw some mentions of members of the team being actual players, and the action on the track is sometimes great to see. I actually did not realize that there were men’s roller derby teams, but I still think the ladies are much fiercer and fun to watch on the track. Seeing both the skating, and the crowds that they assembled to watch the events, really put you into the wayback machine for a look at middle America rather than the gritty cities that dominated seventies cinema. Roller derby itself is portrayed as the dangerous violent sport that it can be, but it also worked in the personality and spectacle of a professional wrestling event.

Kansas City Bomber is no classic example of how to shoot a movie, but it does have a grit to it that is enhanced by the seedy underbelly of the roller derby business. Director Jerrold Freedman mostly worked in television, and while he made several TV films, he only made two more features, 1980’s Borderline with Charles Bronson and 1986’s Native Son with, um, Matt Dillon and Oprah. So, Freedman never made it big, but Kansas City Bomber deserves to be remembered. This would have been an absolute classic to see at a drive in, but even now, it stands up beyond its reputation as an oddity.

If you like good looking girls on skates, seventies cinema, Raquel Welch, the guy who was the bad guy in UHF, or seeing what Midwestern hicks looked like thirty seven years ago, then this is the perfect film for you. It was nearly the perfect film for me, but it got bogged down by the melodrama and lacked any kind of lighter side of the story to keep it from being a bummer. The combination of all the elements that are there do deliver more than I expected, and I had some hope for this one going in. If you only see one movie about roller derby, do you really want it to be Whip It? I say you take a pass on that one and go back to when the derby was skating its way to the top.

Bugg Rating

This trailer is looking pretty rough, but I kind of liked that. The second video down is a song by folkie Phil Ochs which was intended for this film, but never used.

Straight Jacket (1964): Ms. Crawford Goes from Wire Hangers to Bloody Axes

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 17:17:00 +0000

That’s right it’s time again for another Wednesday With William, and this week I’ve got a film that I’ve wanted to see for a long, long time, 1964’s Straight Jacket. There are several reasons why this film enticed me, and I would be lying if I said one of those reasons was not the appearance of Joan Crawford. I could not resist seeing the star of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane and the subject of the bio-pic Mommy, Dearest as an axe wielding psycho. I also couldn’t resist a cast that included Diane Baker and George Kennedy, a script written by Robert Bloch, and, of course, the direction of Mr. Castle. All combined it sounded like a recipe for a great time if you axe me. (See what I did there. I said axe instead of ….oh, never mind, let’s get on with the synopsizing.)

Lucy Harbin (Joan Crawford) was out of town on the evening that her husband Frank (an unaccredited Lee Majors in his first film role) decided to take an old girlfriend back to their house for some fun. Unfortunately for the lovebirds, Lucy decided to come home early. Lucy catches the pair in the act and she beheads them with an axe while their daughter Carol looks on. Twenty years later, Carol (Diane Baker) is living with her Aunt and Uncle when she gets the news that her mother is cured and has been released from the asylum. After an awkward reunion, the mother and daughter become friends, and Carol takes Lucy out shopping. Carol dresses her mother in a wig and outfit that remind her of what she remembers her mom looking like, and Lucy soon starts to feel like her old self. When people start to missing, some begin to suspect that she’s feeling a little too much like her old self.

Before I get any further into the film I want to talk about a couple of things that were conspicuously missing from Straight Jacket. First off, there’s no intro from Mr. Castle on this film, and this lends itself directly into the second thing that was mostly missing, the gimmick. Unlike some of the more spectacular gimmicks (or spectacular claims) that Castle came up for his films, Straight Jacket’s tie in was simply a tiny, cardboard bloody axe. Castle had been advised by the money men to eliminate his gimmicks and instead send Crawford on tour to promote the film. It was only at the last minute that Castle decided to have the axes made. It’s too bad that Castle had to compromise on this one. I would have really liked to see what he would have come up with if he was unencumbered. By his next film, 1965’s I See What You Did (again with Crawford) he was back to his old tricks and installing seatbelts in the back row of the theaters to form a “Shock Section”.

Now to the film at hand, Straight Jacket was a very enjoyable watch even if it was devoid of some of Castle’s usual flair. What makes up for much of this is the tightly wound script by scenarist Robert Bloch. Bloch is most well known for his novel Psycho which led to the Alfred Hitchcock film. Straight Jacket is cut from a similar cloth with the villain being a flesh and blood murderer with not a trace of supernatural. The central mystery of the movie is fairly easy to unravel, but Bloch left enough wiggle room to where it was not completely obvious until the finale. The only deviation from his script comes in the last few moments of the film when an extra scene, which feels tacked on, was filmed at one of the star’s request. This portion of the film would almost take away from the proceedings, but for a final treat, Castle included the Columbia pictures logo at the end again. The woman with the torch is shown with her head resting at her feet and her torch blown out.

The script can’t stand alone and Castle really cast the hell out of this film. Joan Crawford, only a few years removed from Baby Jane, gives a great performance. Sure it’s a bit over the top, but I would expect no less from Miss Crawford. Her performance is delightful from every arch of her eyebrow to every sour expression. Miss Crawford didn’t think as much of her collaboration with Mr. Castle. “I hate being asked to discuss those dreadful horror pictures I made the mistake of starring in. They were all just so disappointing to me. I really had high expectations for some of them. I thought that William Castle and I did our best on Strait Jacket, but the script was ludicrous and unbelievable and that destroyed that picture.” It’s unfortunate for Joan that she could not step outside herself and travel into the future where maybe she could appreciate the camp value of her performance.

The film is clearly Crawford’s, but Castle always seemed to be careful to weave in a story of young love to appeal to the teen set. In this cast it is between Carol, played by Diane Baker, and Michael (John Anthony Hayes). Baker really shines even opposite Crawford, and it was really great to see her pop up in something again. The same year Straight Jacket was released Baker co-starred in Hitchcock’s Marnie as Sean Connery’s conniving sister. Hayes on the other hand did not have much of a career before or after, and he left little impression so it’s no wonder. On the other hand long time character actor George Kennedy, probably best remembered now for his performances opposite Leslie Neilson’s Naked Gun Films, really impresses in a small role as an ill fated farmhand.

Even though Castle did not infuse the movie with a lot of gimmicky flash, he still displays the steady directing hand that makes his movies so watchable. Lots of great shots are constructed around shadows, and cinematographer Arthur E. Arling came up with some really interesting angles. All combined, Straight Jacket is a solid film that comes up a tad short on the grand scale of Castle’s event pictures, but holds its own as a campy, well scripted, Psycho knockoff that benefits from Bloch’s presence and Castle’s steady hand. For Castle fans this is a must see, but it should be required watching for any fan of the one and only Joan Crawford.

Below the trailer I'm linking a video that contains Crawford's makeup and costume test for the film. I especially liked watching Joan being casual and playing with a puppy.

Bugg Rating

Phantom of the Paradise (1974): De Palma's Tale of Rock, Roll, and Revenge

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 19:00:00 +0000

Today’s selection for Terrifying Tuesday might be a little light on the terror, but it gains plenty of horror cachet by taking its inspiration from Phantom of the Opera, Dorian Grey, and Faust. Plus, Paul Williams, even if he did write “The Rainbow Connection“, is a creepy little dude. The film in question is Brian De Palma’s 1974 rock/horror/comedy Phantom of the Paradise. The inspiration for the film hit him when he was in an elevator and heard a Beatles song as muzak. It made him dwell on how corporations take artistic endeavors and boil away what made it special in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. After combining these thoughts with the aforementioned horror classics and the tunes of the aforementioned creepy Paul Williams, De Palma created a truly original work.

The film follows the downfall of songwriter/composer Winslow (William Finley) whose cantata, based on the story of Faust, is taken by super producer Swan (Paul Williams) as the perfect piece to open his new venue, The Paradise. Swan steals the cantata away and frames Winslow for drug dealing. After breaking out of jail, Winslow goes on a rampage in Swan’s record factory which leads to him getting his face stuck in a record press. Donning a mask and costume, Winslow becomes The Phantom, and agrees to finish the cantata if Swan will cast Phoenix (Jessica Harper) in the lead role. The producer, of course, double crosses The Phantom, steals the finished music, and casts the glam rocker Beef (Gerrit Graham) in the lead. The Phantom pledges to ruin the production, and soon he discovers that Swan is part of his own Faustian bargain.

Phantom of the Paradise was De Palma’s fourth major production following the trio of films, Hi Mom (1970), Get to Know Your Rabbit (1972), and Sisters (1973), that established him as one of the up and coming directors in the business. The studios were not keen on De Palma’s script, and so he started shopping the idea to record companies finally getting somewhere when an A&M executive introduced him to Paul Williams. At the time Williams was an in demand composer with hits like The Carpenters’ “We’ve Only Just Begun” on his resume. Originally, De Palma wanted Williams to write the songs, but after getting to know Williams, De Palma thought that the composer should take on the part of the wronged songwriter Winslow. At first, Williams agreed, but then he decided that he could not be menacing enough as The Phantom and instead agreed to play Swan.

Williams' portrayal of the super evil super producer is dead on, and this is only enhanced by his long floppy hair, large tinted glasses, and short stature. He seemed like an evil executive who was trying to be hip. The character was loosely based on producer Phil Spector, and in fact the character had been called Specter in early drafts. That wasn’t the only name change that went on in the film. Swan was intended to be the CEO of a media conglomerate called Swan Song, but after Led Zeppelin’s manager created a real record label called Swansong, the film, which had already been shot, had to be altered to replace mentions of Swan Song with Death Records. Unfortunately for De Palma’s well made film, some places where the logos had to be changed look really clumsily done and it takes away from the picture. De Palma also thought it took away from the picture and its indictment of corporate greed to reduce Swan to simply a producer. However, looking at it through a prism of modern times, when so much of music is controlled by producers, it seems just as meaningful.

Though Williams is not the star of the film, he nearly steals the picture away from William Finley as Winslow/The Phantom. Thankfully, Finley has some great comic moments before and after he becomes The Phantom. My favorite scene has to be when Winslow, in fully caped and bird masked Phantom garb, uses a plunger to attack glam rocker Beef in the shower. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone be menaced with a plunger before, but both Finley and Gerrit Graham sell the scene perfectly. Graham was another highlight of the film, and his performance as the fey rocker was probably the strongest full on comedic performance in the film.

There are a couple of other actors I’d like to briefly mention. First off is Jessica Harper. Not only did she beat Linda Ronstadt out for the role, she sang and acted the part beautifully. Harper really sold the ingenue role perfectly, and it made me wonder if Dario Argento saw Phantom of the Paradise before he cast Harper in his film Susperia. It definitely seems like De Palma’s film would have appealed to the Italian director. The other actor that I want to mention has the other purely comedic performance in the film, and that is George Memmoli as Swan’s right hand man Philbin. Memmoli, who also appears in one of my favorite films, Mean Streets, is delightfully sleazy throughout and has a kind of faux hippie air around his character that I found really interesting.

When Phantom of the Paradise was released, it was not a rousing success. In fact few people really got the picture, though strangely it was a massive hit in the Canadian city of Winnipeg running for four and half months and selling over 20,000 soundtrack albums. (For more info check out the interesting essay Why Winnipeg?) In the intervening years Phantom of the Paradise has grown as cult film, but it hasn’t ever reached the wide appeal of the other well known rock/horror/musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show. De Palma went on to direct Scarface and Carrie, Williams wrote the hit song Evergreen from A Star Is Born and basically all the classic Muppet songs, and The Phantom of the Paradise became a cult classic that doesn’t get the attention that it deserves. I can’t recommend this film enough. It has a little something for fans of comedy, horror, and even musicals to enjoy. So check it out, but don’t let Paul Williams creep you out too much.

Bugg Rating

The Beyond [L'aldilà] (1981): Lucio Fulci Throws Open the Gates.... To HELL!

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 18:30:00 +0000

I was thinking of an appropriate film to celebrate Martin Luther King day with, and of course the first thing that came to mind was Lucio Fulci’s film E tu vivrai nel terrore - L'aldilà, or The Beyond. The reason it sprang to mind is simple enough. King had a dream, and much of The Beyond felt like a dream. Are you buying that? No? Well, I figured as much. Ok, so maybe I forgot it was King Day, but I didn’t forget to check out the second in Lucio Fulci’s Gates of Hell trilogy. Having seen the first part, City of the Living Dead, and the final film, House by the Cemetery, a while back, I’m glad I finally saw The Beyond so I could get the whole, clear, straightforward narrative arc. Are you buying that? No?

So maybe there’s not a clear story that comes from seeing the three films, but the trio is only loosely connected as a trilogy in the first place. In fact, of the three films, The Beyond is probably the least plot driven of them, and that is saying something. It begins in 1927 when an angry mob attacks and kills Schweick, an artist who they believe is a warlock, who lives at the Seven Doors hotel. Years later in 1981, Liza Merril (Catriona MacColl) inherits the hotel, and she moves in intending to renovate the property. Her renovations disturb one of the seven doors of hell on which the hotel was built on, and it begins to allow the dead to pass over to the land of the living. Soon Liza and anyone connected to the hotel is beset by ghosts, zombies, flesh eating spiders, and the artist Schweick back from the dead and ready for revenge.

I don’t know what kept me from seeing The Beyond for so long as it is both a well-regarded Fulci film and set in Louisiana, and I have an affinity for both things. Filmed partially on location in Louisiana, Fulci even got his film into New Orleans for a few shots. Unfortunately, there are only a few recognizable locations to spot, but there are a few recognizable New Orleans landmarks, such as the Cornstalk Inn, that can be spotted. All of the location footage looks great, but perhaps Fulci should have asked around about a few details on the area. What sticks out most is the appearance of a basement in the Seven Doors hotel. Louisiana and the New Orleans area sits below sea level and basements are definitely not de rigueur. However, without it then Liza’s pal, Joe the Plumber, wouldn’t have someplace to go get jacked up by a zombie. It’s a little thing really, and fact checking The Beyond is not going to get me very far anyway.

Unlike the other two parts in the unofficial trilogy, The Beyond is much less interested in a coherent storyline than in images and atmosphere. Fulci even admitted as much when he said, “My idea was to make an absolute film, with all the horrors of the world. It’s a plotless film, there’s no logic to it, just a succession of images.” Some of the images rank among the best I’ve seen in Fulci’s catalog, but a few fall short. While the blind girl who is attacked by her guide dog looked great (though reminiscent of Argento’s Susperia), the scene of the flesh-eating tarantulas leaves a lot to be desired. Fulci wisely wrangled up a few real spiders, but filled out the shots with some of the worst fake spiders I’ve seen in a while. Also, I didn’t know that spiders would eat your face, but hey, you live and learn.

Catriona MacColl, who starred in all three of the Gates of Hell films, performs admirable as usual, but she was not Fulci’s first choice. He wanted Tisa Farrow who had starred in his film Zombi 2 and D’Amato’s Antropophagus, but after the latter film, she had quit the business. As much as I like Farrow in both of those films, having MacColl star in all three gives them a connection even if the narrative doesn’t have much cohesion. The other star of the film was David Warbeck as Dr. John McCabe. Warbeck had also starred in Fulci’s 1981 film The Black Cat, and he gives a solid performance in The Beyond though he is less memorable than Christopher George in City of the Living Dead or Paolo Malco in House by the Cemetery.

The cinematography was handled by Sergio Salvati who collaborated with Fulci on nine other films, and as usual, Salvati nails the dreamlike, or should I say nightmarish, vision that Fulci intended. The Beyond relies so much on images, and it carries the film in such a way that the lightness of the plot really didn’t bother me at all. Enhancing the images was another frequent Fulci collaborator, composer Fabio Frizzi. The Beyond features some of Frizzi’s best and most memorable work since his score for Zombi 2, and his score really props up moments like the march of the fake tarantulas.

The Beyond is defiantly one of Fulci’s best films that I’ve seen, and of the Gates of Hell trilogy, it was the most engaging of the three. While it was much weaker in the plot department than the other two films, the imagery really made up for a lot of it. From beginning to the ethereal ending, Fulci takes the viewer on a trip deep into his supernatural world. The Beyond is really the perfect melding of the grind house feel with the art house style, and though I don’t think many fans of Goddard are going to love this film, the horror fans will find a lot to like here.

Bugg Rating

Blow-up (1966): Antonioni's Misleadingly Titled Film Contains No Explosions

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 01:55:00 +0000

For the next few weeks I’m going to use my weekend watches for films that I think I should have seen or haven’t seen in a while. The first film I’m going to talk about will be the former. There are films you really can’t seem to hardly avoid if you enjoy certain other films. With a love for Italian cinema, and giallo in particular, one of those films quickly has become Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow-up. After a successful run of films in his native Italy, Antonioni was enticed to come to England to make a trio of films for MGM. While the other two films, Zabriski Point and The Passenger, met with moderate reception, Blow-up was widely hailed a triumph, and it was rewarded with two Academy Award nominations and the Grand Prix prize at the 1967 Cannes Film Festival.

The film stars David Hemmings, future star of Camelot, Deep Red, and The Heroin Busters, as Thomas, a self absorbed fashion photographer with aspirations un the art world. One day while in the park he photographs Jane (Vanessa Redgrave) frolicking in the park with an older man. He snaps quite a few pictures of the scene, but Jane wants them back. In fact, she follows him all the way to his studio to get them. Instead of the negatives she wants, he gives her another roll and develops the pictures himself. As he looks at the pictures, he begins to notice something in them. Blowing up tiny details in his shots, he uncovers a murderer and his victim hiding in the frames.

If you’re not in the mood for a film with a glacial pace, then it might not be the time for Blow-up. Its nearly two hour running time is anything but action packed, and there’s nothing resembling thrills or suspense to be found. This is really a character study wrapped up in themes of loneliness and isolation. The murder mystery, which doesn’t even enter the film until the midway point, is not the focus or even the end result Antonioni was intending. A large portion of the film seems to be focused on how self involved and isolationist the “swinging” ‘60’s counterculture really was.

For the first half of the film, I had no idea where it was going. Character development definitely was taking a front seat, and seeing as I was expecting a mystery to unfold, many scenes felt only glancingly pertinent to the story. Why did I have to go with Mr. Hemmings while he checked out a junk shop and bought a propeller? Why did I need to see him do a photo shoot for a group of girls who looked like Speed Racer’s sister, a mutant peacock, and half a lamp? Yet as the film started to unfold in the back half, it finally became clear. My expectations were dashed, but I still found a film I rather enjoyed.

David Hemmings, who I have loved in so many genre films over the years, was a fairly unknown actor when he was cast as Thomas, a character loosely based off English photographer David Bailey. He’s been plenty good in all the features I’ve seen him in, but here he took it far beyond. His character seems to swing from braggart to isolated introspection with relative ease, and Hemmings does a fantastic job with the transitions. He brings the character to life in the silent moments with his dialog heavy sections adding layers to the performance.

Co-starring with Hemmings is Vanessa Redgrave, and if you haven’t seen Miss Redgrave in her younger days, then you’re missing something. Putting her foxiness to the side for a moment, Redgrave turns in a solid performance as Jane, the girl who is trying to recover the pictures. Antonioni wanted Swedish actress Eva-Britt Strandberg for the part, but the powers that be at MGM thought her nose was too big. I’ve never seen anything with Strandberg in it, but I find it hard to believe she could turn in as vulnerable a performance as Redgrave manages.

When the film originally came out in 1966, there were mixed reactions to it. Some felt the film was a plodding boring mess while others thought it a work of genius coming from the New Wave of European cinema. In the end, it was a financial success, but there were some who had their own thoughts about that. Jack Nicholson was once quoted as saying, “It now seems that the reason for the success of Blow-up was that it included the first beaver shot in a conventional theater.” I’m sure he’s correct that the allure of nudity, and there’s plenty of it, held some sway over potential audiences. Nicholson went on to say, “It’s a success such as Antonioni has never had before or since.” This might be some sour grapes from Jack though as he starred in Antonioni’s English language follow up, the much less profitable film The Passenger (1975).

I don’t know that Blow-up will be a film that I will go running back to watch again and again, but I’m glad I saw it. With its focus on style and meaning over substance, I can see how it went on to influence films from both Italy and the United States. The influence it had over gialli as a sub-genre seems less apparent though. That being said, it is a film that rewards the attentive viewer, but it will not be suited to everyone’s taste. So check it out, but only if you’re sitting down for a dedicated viewing. Otherwise you might just miss something hiding in the frame.

Bugg Rating

Ladies Night Presents: Never Too Young To Die (1986): Double-O Stamos!

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 23:19:00 +0000

Once a Month, T.L. Bugg takes a day off and hands the keys of the Lair over to his lovely wife, Miss Directed, and best friend, Fran Goria. The Ladies of the Lair take this chance to shine a spotlight on some of the best and worst films out there, and you never know what might happen when it's Ladies Night!

Never too Young to Die (1986) Director: Gil Bettman. Writers: Steven Paul, Stuart Paul. Starring: John Stamos, Vanity, Gene Simmons, and George Lazenby.

Drew Stargrove (Lazenby) is a top notch, secret agent (does this sound familiar to any one else?). He is in possession of a top secret 5 1/4” floppy diskette full of all the government information needed to poison the city's water supply. Velvet Von Ragner (Simmons) is a psychotic, hermaphroditic crime lord (it could happen) who wants the diskette to, well, poison the city's water supply. Ragner kills Stargrove in an attempt to obtain said diskette. Now it is time for Stargrove’s high school gymnast son, Lance (Stamos), to team up with dad’s old partner, Danja Deering (Vanity, yes really), to bring Ragner to justice and save the day.

TIDBITS

- Bettman’s biggest claim to fame was the documentary The Long Road To Cabo (2003). He went on tour with Sammy Hagar and David Lee Roth, and with no Van Halen in sight.

- Writer Steven Paul was nominated for a Razzie award in 2005 for his work on Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2 (2005).

- Stuart Paul’s alias is Q. Mark.

- In 1980, Lynda Carter covered the Kiss song “I Was Made for Loving You, Baby” for a TV special. During the number, Carter was dressed as a female Kiss member. In Never Too Young To Die, Gene Simmons wore the same outfit for the musical number “It Takes a Man Like Me To Be a Woman Like Me”, YEAH!

Ok, I know what everybody is thinking, “Fran, I didn’t know that you covered nonfiction in your reviews! I saw this story on the news just last week.” Well, don’t be fooled by the realness of the plot, it is just an eighties movie. I do, however, love it when a movie is ripped from the headlines, so to speak. I often turn on the news and see an item on roving bands of Mad Max (and Beyond Thunderdome) extras, following their hermaphrodite, hell bent on world domination, gang leader, who is hunting high and low for an elusive 5 1/4” floppy disk, in order to poison the water supply of some city or other. Luckily, there is always a high school gymnast around to save the day with his Mullet of Glory. Wait…what? That hasn’t happened? But, it all seemed so real. I have stocked up on bottled water and hairspray already! Oh well, maybe some other catastrophe will happen on a sea full of bad hair.

This is one of the best terrible movies I had never heard of. As a matter of fact, if it were not for a Facebook friend posting a clip (thanks Barloff!), I still would never have heard of it. Most of the major players don’t talk about it. It’s that dirty little secret everyone wishes would go away. It is quite difficult to find any noteworthy information on the movie. When I watched the clip, I knew it was gold. I immediately called T.L. and told him to make it happen; and he did. One used VHS with no cover later; I was once again a happy girl.

First of all, I would like to talk about my personal favorite part of the movie, Gene Simmons. His character, Velvet Von Ragner, the hermaphrodite lounge singer/ gang leader with delusions of grandeur, was AWESOME! I can’t say that his acting skills were great, but anybody who read the synopsis can probably tell this role really needed to go over the top. Boy did it ever. Simmons really gave his all for this part (tucked and everything). And, his musical number was just the tops, baby! Watching him run in heels, makes me feel better about all heel mishaps I have ever had. Gene Simmons was just great, he was completely entertaining and funny and a joy to watch.

John Stamos, well, it really depends on the angle as to whether he did a good job or not. Let me explain. I felt he was totally believable as a mullet having, gymnastics suit wearing high school student. However, as a debonair, world saving, action hero…not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I dig the Stamos. Every time I watch a Chris Seaver film, I look for the famous Stamos pic, but I would not call him a great actor. Never Too Young to Die was pre-Full House, so he had yet to make soccer moms the world over weak in the knees. The wardrobe from this movie did not get him there any faster. White, high waisted, pleated slacks and a blue mesh half shirt do not look good on anybody. While we are at it, tight acid washed jeans, with matching jacket and giant white sneakers does not say action hero at all, teen of the eighties maybe, but not action hero. This definitely was not a sexy look, but his character landed a spy. When you’re thinking about Stamos’ Stargrove, you also have to consider the out of place love story that is borderline statutory (Lance was a high school student), but hey, I guess he was such a cool guy that the age and the clothes didn’t matter.

Vanity, she was a model, she was Prince’s protégé, and she was in an all female musical group called Vanity 6. Now her life is filled with, and devoted to, Christ’s love. Yep, that’s right, she went from Prince to Jesus, but somewhere along the way, she stopped to make Never Too Young To Die. She played a spy named Danja, which rhymes with ganja, which I suspect was the involved in the conception of this movie. Vanity, with her poorly delivered dialogue, did not convince me that she was a spy. In case any one is interested, Vanity’s wardrobe was not any better then Stamos’. As a matter of fact, all of the clothes were bad, except for Velvet’s, those were fabulous.

The best actor in the movie was George Lazenby. Even he went overboard with his character, but it was easy to see the talent (even though he was my least favorite Bond). Unfortunately, he was only in the first part of the movie. Another underused actor was the one and only Mr. Robert Englund. That’s right, Freddy himself was Ragner’s top scientist. Just don’t blink, because he only appears twice and speaks one line.

I hope I have not swayed anybody from watching Never Too Young To Die. It is a must see for anybody who likes entertainment. It is also a great background piece for casual gatherings. I liked this movie so much that I cannot wait to see it again. All of the bad things I mentioned earlier are exactly why I like it so much. I highly recommend this movie, um…unless one requires substance in films. I do not, and I thought it was hella good.

Stamos Rating

You have to be a special kind of person to know what September 18, 1983 meant for the world of entertainment. Any member of the KISS army can tell you, that date marked the start of a dark time in the band's history. As their albums started to go gold again, the fan base started to wonder what happened to the band many had built their life around. By this time the album Music from “The Elder” happened, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss were so disenchanted all they bothered to do was show up for the pictures and cash the checks. Then on September 18th the fans had gathered around their T.V. and found out Gene Simmons was no demon at all. He did not look like he wanted to Rock and Roll All Nite (or Party Every Day). Without his makeup on, he just looked like some dude that would have a hard time getting a girl's phone number.

It only took three more years to get Gene back in makeup. Unfortunately for KISS fans, when he did, it was less creature of the night, and more walker of the street when he stared as Velvet Van Ragner in Never Too Young To Die. For his character, the film makers went way past sweet transvestite, all the way to creepy evil hermaphrodite. Now Gene Simmons isn’t the kind of guy that is easily lead, and I have to assume he read this script. I have to believe he thought, "yep, this is a good career move". Well, he had been wrong before. Watching Never Too Young To Die is a rollercoaster. From the very beginning, I got the feeling this was a movie with something to say. The problem is I think they might have been saying it in a language I don’t know.

The story of Lance Stargrove, played by the John Stamos, starts in his high school gym. The back drop sets the film up perfectly to make fun of homophobic stereotypes. I started to get the feeling this could be my kind of film when the Stamos takes the jocks down a peg or two. Then bikes and transvestites get added into the mix, but I think I’m still with you guys, sally forth. Things get a little shaky when Vanity made her first appearance on screen. It took me a second to realize it wasn't Padma Lakshmi from Top Chef, and then, sure, I back on board. By the time Stamos starts to talk about society and its woes, I have given up trying. Some where along the way, I go from being a grown woman, to a child of the 80’s. If I had to sum up this film for a friend it might be, “Uncle Jesse from Full House and Prince's girl friend try to save the world from Gene Simmons and the extras from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.”

It’s like they took a whole decade, put it in a blender and pushed puree. On no level can this movie be called good, but it is entertaining. I found it so hard not to laugh uncontrollably, I had to be careful when I drank my coke. If you are going to watch this movie, get as many people as you can together to do so. I don’t know if it would be as good otherwise.

Stamos Rating

There is a trailer you can find on YouTube, but it's only 30 seconds and doesn't really give much of a feel for the film. Instead here are a couple of clips from the film to give you folks a taste.

13 Ghosts (1960): Mr. Castle Gets the Blues

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 18:00:00 +0000

Come one, come all. It’s that special time of the week when we spend our Wednesday with William. In order for each of you to enjoy this review in all its glory, every reader has been issued a set of set of special invisible Script-O Goggles. As you read on you will find this review is full of special thrills and chills brought to vivid life by way of those magical, invisible, internet goggles. You will marvel at how vivid the color of the text is, how fine the font (Ariel like you’ve never experienced it before!), and you will want to bask in the glow of how clever and insightful I am. Those of you who’ve already donned your Script-O’s might even be feeling something like that already. No? Well, I assure you that as we explore the William Castle classic 13 Ghosts, you shall!

The Zorba family is down on their luck. Cyrus Zorba (Donald Woods) can’t even make ends meet to keep his family’s furniture. So when he gets a mysterious telegram and finds out that he’s inherited a fully outfitted mansion from a forgotten uncle, it’s the break that they’ve been needing. Unfortunately, along with being fully furnished, the house also comes fully stocked with a selection of 12 captured spirits. The Zorba family must survive the apparitions of a killer cook, headless lion tamer, and flaming skeletons without becoming the 13th ghost. If they make it, they might be lucky enough to find a hidden treasure, all of the departed Uncle’s cash, hidden somewhere in the house.

Usually I wait until a little later on to talk about the gimmick, but Illusion-O was so much of a part of this film. As the patrons entered the theater, they were given the Illusion-O viewer which you can see pictured on the left. At the beginning of the film, Mr. Castle explains that if you look through the blue part, for the faint of heart, the ghosts will disappear, and if you choose the red part, for the brave, they will all but leap out of the screen. The film is littered with moments where the film turns a light blue color, the words ‘Use Viewer” come on the screen, and an array of “ghosts” can be seen. While I understand the viewer did indeed work, the spirits can be seen by the naked eye. I would love to see the film with the viewer, but I didn’t even have a pair of 3-D glasses around to check it out with.

As much as the gimmick intrigued me, it does feel a bit intrusive to the film in a general sense. The narrative is frequently interrupted for a lengthy ghost sequence that even with the viewer doesn't appear to be action packed. Now that’s not to say I did not enjoy several of them. The ghost lion with the headless ghost lion tamer was very amusing, and who among us does not like a flaming skeleton? This time Castle came up with a promotion that actually did work, but not so much with the film itself. Don‘t get me wrong. As a theater experience, I can‘t see how it wouldn‘t be a blast, but most of us will never get to see this film beyond our home. Looking at 13 Ghosts as a film, it doesn’t hold up as well as House on Haunted Hill or The Tingler.

One of the other reasons for this is the Zorba family. Donald Woods was fifth billed as the father Cyrus Zorba, but the long time character actor was the high point in the film’s cast. Grabbing top billing was child star Charles Herbert as the idiotic child Buck Zorba. Herbert, and Buck, about drove me crazy because this kid was a flat out moron. There’s just no two ways around it. Just watch the scene he shares with Route 66 star Martin Milner as Ben Rush, the devious lawyer. This kid can be talked into anything by any adult. I guess I should be thankful that the lawyer just wanted to steal money from the family because there’s no telling what Buck might have agreed to.

Then you’ve got Zorba’s daughter, Madea. Now there’s nothing wrong with Jo Morrow or her acting, and I even found her quite fetching. The problem is her name, Madea. William Castle and screenwriter Robb White could not have foreseen Tyler Perry, and so they could not have anticipated the audience thinking about “family reunions” or how she can “do bad all by herself”. I, on the other hand, quite maturely could not resist cracking a few such jokes. On the other end of the references spectrum was Margaret Hamilton. Playing the creepy housekeeper who gets thrown in with the creepy house, the actress, better known as The Wicked Witch of the West, winks at her own image in a time long before The Wizard of Oz gained cult status.

The parts of the film that were uninhibited by the blue filter looked quite good thanks to cinematographer Joseph F. Biroc. He would go on to shoot such diverse films such as Confessions of an Opium Eater, Blazing Saddles, and Flight of the Phoenix. 13 Ghosts got a score from frequent Castle collaborator Von Dexter who both has a badass name and really carries the film though the disjointed gimmick driven moments. As a package, 13 Ghosts is an entertaining film, but it does lose a little something for the home viewer. It also doesn’t have the narrative strength of some of Castle's other films.

Now before I close out, I have to talk about the 2001 remake, Thirteen Ghosts. I’m sure there are plenty of folks who will disagree with me, but this is one case where I enjoy the remake more than the original. It dispatched with the Illusion-O gimmick, though kept the viewers intact though a plot point, and amped up the ghosts into a group of genuinely creepy creatures. While the remake doesn’t have the Castle’s flair, it does provide a solid argument in favor of the remake. One of the things any remake needs to do is remind you of the original. Each time I take in Tony Shalhoub and Rah Digga battling The Angry Princess and The Jackal, it makes we want to take a second look at Castle’s classic so I can bask in the comforting blue glow of Illusion-O.

Bugg Rating

Mansquito (2005): Because Mosquidude Didn't Sound Right

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 18:00:00 +0000

While the DVD case that my copy of the film came in read Mosquito Man, for the purposes of this review I will refer to the film by its release title, Mansquito. It appears that this flick was a SciFi channel production from 2005, and we all know that means quality. In fact, I almost had second thoughts, but when I saw that the director was Tibor Takacs. I could not resist giving him a second appearance on the Lair. This looked just stupid enough to warrant a watch, and it turns out that, if there’s a scene where blood splatters on a disco ball and a certain late ‘80’s sitcom star, then the film just can’t lose.

The titular Mansquito was once Ray Erikson (Matt Jordon), a prisoner who signed up for a medical research experiment. He took the opportunity to escape from the guards, but he gets caught in a radioactive explosion with a swarm of mosquitoes. Ray, who transforms into a giant blood sucker, goes on a killing spree, and it’s up to Dr. Jennifer Allen (Musetta Vander) and her cop boyfriend Lt. Thomas Randall (Corin Nemec) to track down the giant ‘skeeter before Jennifer succumbs to her own bloodlust.

This is going to be one of the shortest reviews I’ve ever given a film, but there’s so little here that begs for explanation or examination. I mean what we have here is a SciFi original movie (remember the good old days before SyFy) masquerading on DVD under an alternate title. The acting is poor, the script is poor, and the special effects are poor. That being said, I enjoyed the crap out of watching this flick. Here’s a film with the balls to say that there could be a half man half mosquito out there, and our last line of defense might well be Parker Lewis. I would use a “can’t lose” joke here but I already used my allotted one in the first paragraph.

That’s right bullets won’t harm a Mansquito. His victims are powerless to defend against him. Corin Nemec, however, can get in bare knuckles brawls with this thing multiple times and escape. I have not seen Mr. Nemec in anything since “The Stand” miniseries. When I hear the name it conjures up images of a scrawny, red headed, dorky kid with his loud shirt buttoned all the way up. I remember that last detail because I recall thinking that was good fashion advice. In Mansquito, Nemec is the heroic Lt. Randall, and though the floppy hair is still on display, Nemec is outfitted in a series of unstructured jackets more befitting of Charlie Schlatter, TV’s Ferris Bueller. He’s not bad, but that’s comparative to everyone else in the film so I don’t know if that says much.

The only other person I have to mention in regards to Mansquito is the director Tibor Takacs. A while back I talked about Takacs VHS classic I, Madman, and it wasn’t too long ago that I got a chance to see The Gate again. Both of those are well constructed and, above all, entertaining films. Mansquito is at least the latter of those two. In recent years Takacs has been churning out a bunch of these TV films with titles like Mega Snake and Kraken: Tentacles of the Deep, but if you look back into his career it seems things went really off the rails in 1996 when he directed the TV movie that spawned Sabrina the Teenage Witch. If there’s one really positive thing I could say about Mansquito it’s that the film might be drek, but it’s well directed good looking drek.

Before I sign off on this one, I do want to mention that I did find some charm in the creature a.k.a The Mansquito. For a few shots, the film goes to a cruddy looking CGI, but for the most part we’re talking about a good, old fashioned guy in a rubber suit. It’s not even a bad looking rubber suit. I found it quite gross at some points, and I kind of wished I hadn’t decided this was good viewing material during dinner. The costume was produced and designed by Alterian Inc, special effects artist Tony Gardner’s company, and while I doubt the high profile effects craftsman, whose work includes Zombieland, Army of Darkness, and Lord of Illusions, had anything hands on to do with the monster, it still stands out as the star of this schlock fest.

Sometimes you’ve just got to watch something that’s kind of, or just flat out, terrible. If you’re a horror fan and you can’t stand watching bad movies, then you’re in the wrong line. Mansquito is a flick that should definitely go in the “so bad its good” hall of fame. I only paid a dollar for it, and I will more than get my money’s worth on this title. This is one I will hold onto for one of those nights when some friends are over and inebriation is just setting in. What better time for a movie about a Mosquito Man? Has there ever been a film that has more appropriately sucked?

Bugg Rating

How to Kill a Judge (1974): Reinhold, Judy, and Dredd Better Watch Out!.

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 22:58:00 +0000

It’s time for another Monday spent basking in Italian cinema. Today, I’ve got something pretty special for you. When I heard the title Perché si uccide un magistrato, or How to Kill a Judge, I was sold on wanting to see it. Then I found out that it starred a golden ‘stached Franco Nero. That pushed it out way over the edge, but what I expected was a straight up polizia type film. I guessed that Nero must be the [pick one: framed/ loose-cannon/ green] cop on a mission to rid [insert Italian city here] of the scourge of [pick one: drugs/ Mafioso/ a surplus of Fiats]. Surprisingly, it was anything but standard. It wasn’t even a polizia though it retains some of the characteristics, and even though it’s packed solid with red herrings, How to Kill a Judge is no giallo. The film actually either is a taut political thriller along the same lines as Manchurian Candidate or The Parallax View.

Franco Nero plays Giacomo Solaris, an up and coming director whose new film has caught him in controversy. In it, a judge is killed because of his close ties to the mob, and there is no mistaking that the character is meant to be Judge Traini (Marco Guglielmi). The Judge and his wife Antonia (Francois Fabian) take offence at the film‘s accusations, and Traini meets with Solaris to tell him that his film will be shut down. Before the judge can make the order, he is killed in a similar fashion to the character in Solaris’ film. Feeling like he had a hand in Traini’s death, Solaris begins to investigate if the murderer was inspired by his film, a calculated mafia hitman, or the act of someone with other unknown motives.

As the film began, I underestimated it a bit. It seemed like the same old song and dance that I’d seen in many films, but this was my first experience with director Damiano Damiani. I was familiar with his name only because he made several films with Franco Nero, but I had never seen either of his most well known films, El chuncho, qien sabe? (A Bullet for the General) or Confessione di un commissario di polizia al procuratore della repubblica (Confessions of a Police Captain). I can assure you that I will be making up for that lacking on both counts. Damiani co-scripted the film, and all the strength that comes from this film can be traced to the solid work put into the plotting. How to Kill a Judge takes the thriller formula and blends it with so much misdirection that you’ll feel like someone was trying to steal your watch. The ending is has a satisfying ‘duh’ feeling without feeling like you’ve been cheated.

Damiani said he wrote the character of Solaris as a director to be an objective force as opposed to the police or mobsters. Damiani showed Solaris’ controversial film as a dreamy Fellini-esque affair (that I would not have wanted to watch), but the film Damiani made eschewed symbolism to show the seamy underbelly of Sicilian law enforcement and the love/hate relationship with crime and the mafia. The character of Solaris was brought to life perfectly by Franco Nero who fit easily into the role of the happening, artistic, rebellious film maker. Nero showed the character’s confidence and worry equally well, and this is the kind of role that speaks to why Nero still enjoys a prolific career.

The film is peppered with interesting supporting players, but the one real drawback of the film was that I nearly needed a scorecard to know who all the players were. Characters drift in and out, some of them with similar names, and until the flock got thinned down a bit it remained a tad baffling. I think it might even have been planned as another piece of misdirection. The players that standout from the crowd are the couple of familiar faces I spotted. Elio Zamut, who was great in Camino’s …Calling All Police Cars and Bloody Payroll, really slimes up the place as a mobbed up Senator, and Francois Fabian looked as lovely in ‘70’s fashions as she did in saloon girl grab in Corbucci’s The Specialist.

While I can forgive the miasma of characters that populate How to Kill a Judge, the part of the film that most disappointed me was the score by Riz Ortolani. His scores for Cannibal Holocaust and House on the Edge of the Park really nail the feeling of films, but Ortolani must have slept though this one. So much of the film played out silently, and the few pieces involved never caught my attention at all. I really could have used the De Angelis brothers working their funky, funky magic on this film, but I suppose that’s not the film that Damiani was intending to make.

While many Italian films can be pointed to as a take-off of another more successful film, How to Kill a Judge feels like a fresh and original story. Even though the film lacks in the action department, Damiani builds mystery and suspense at a breakneck pace, and Nero will pull you into the mystery with him. I will definitely want to see any of the other films that the two of them made together, and I highly recommend checking out How to Kill a Judge for a taste of Italy that provides something a little out of the norm.

Bugg Rating

Six is the Number of Awards, and the Number of Awards Will Be Six

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 23:09:00 +0000

Unless you’ve been hanging out under a rock this week, then you know that Blog awards have been invading the horror blog-o-sphere like you would not believe. I’ve received several so I’m going to tackle them all at once here. If I happen to miss anyone who awarded me, I apologize. I think I have them all down though, and I’m going to combine them somehow into a one giant Franken-award. The first honor came by way of Geof from the great non-horror blog, Enter the Man Cave who bestowed on me the Keative Blogger award. I really appreciate this one coming from Geof as he writes one of the most creative and entertaining blogs out there. It’s one of the very few I read that doesn’t focus on cinema, and you’ve got to be pretty damn good to make me read something NOT about film.

One of the rules of Kreative Blogger is telling seven things about myself you folks might not know. Here goes….

1. My favorite albums are The Beatles- White Album, El-P- Fantastic Damage, Van Morrison- Veedon Fleece, Tift Merritt- Another Country, and Modest Mouse- We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank.

2. I’m a native South Carolinian, and you know what you call SC residents? Sandlappers. I always find that hilarious. I’m a Sandlapper. Excuse me while I go chuckle.

3. I have dog, Mad Maxine, and a cat, Sydney Vicious, but generally they are both major pains in the ass and get called “cat”, “dog”, or some other unprintable sobriquet.

4. My first punk band had their first and only gig at a fundraiser for a kid’s elementary school. If there’s something more punk rock than your band splintering directly after raising money for finger-paints, I don’t know what it is.

5. I write left handed, but I golf, bat, play guitar, and make sweet, sweet love right handed. I know. Which is stranger, the fact that I’m that way or the creepy turn that sentence took.

6. Here’s my favorite joke of all time:

A Mushroom walks into a bar and says to the bartender, “I’ll have a drink.”

The bartender says, “We don’t serve your type here.”

To which the mushroom replies, “Why not? I’m a fungi.”

7. When I was a little kid and The Gong Show was on and if Gene Gene, The Dancing Machine came on, I would dance right in front of the TV and say “Gene Gene” over and over and over.

The very next day I got hit with the award bat again when Emily from The Deadly Doll’s House of Horror Nonsense also awarded me with the Kreative Blogging Award. In her award, Miss Intravia called me her “my brother in arms when it comes to bad, bad cinema”. I am honored to be fighting the good bad fight with you, ma’am. After all if it wasn’t for Emily, I would never have seen Fear of Clowns, and how empty my life would have been. I want to thank Emily for the award, and encourage you folks to grab a copy of the new Paracinema magazine that contains a kick ass article from her on Battle Royale II.

On Wednesday, I was honored again when William Malmborg gave me the One Lovely Blog Award from his great site. I really like reading William’s work because he brings up some great literary horrors work, and I rarely get a chance to read anything good. So when I’m looking for a book I often turn to his site to find something I might like. He’s also got really, really cute cats, and I won’t lie that goes a long way with me. He’s a great dude with a great blog, and I am very grateful he thought of me.

As if that were not enough for Wednesday, I also got another Kreative Blogger award from Rev. Phantom from Midnight Confessions. The Rev. has been my pal almost since the beginning of this site, and I count on his funny, incisive reviews to push me to do better. The Rev. is the type of guy I wish lived next door so we could cook out, talk over the fence, and have lengthy Italian film festivals. In short, the man’s a badass, and I thank him for the award and his friendship for the past couple of years.

Now this seems like enough awards for any one blogger, but they’re not done rolling in yet. Next up is Bill from Radiation Scarred Reviews who gave me the One Lovely Blog… Of Doom Award. Bill is a frequent commenter and reader of the Lair, and I thank him for it. I thank him more for maintaining his site. His simple unadorned reviews always cut straight to the heart of films in a way that I wish I could. He does a great job, and I thank him for taking a moment out to honor lil ol’ me.

Last but not least was the award that came in from Uranium Willy from Necrotic Cinema. He’s passing out the Fibonacci Award for “those bloggers and blogs whose work have inspired others. The blog should be one that would cause others to want to passionately create something new and in the process inspire someone else to create a new post and soon marvelous posts are being spawned at a ratio calculable only by some esoteric mathematical formula.” I’m deeply honored that Willy thinks of me and the Lair that way. The feeling in mutual. Here’s a guy who has to really jump through some technological hoops to even get his blog out of China, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it out there. That shows such a devotion to me that I consider Willy something of a blogging hero. I would probably give up, but he sticks to it and delivers great content day after day.

So now that I’ve covered all the awards I got I need to bestow a few. Since it’s what I got last, and it hasn’t been around the party already, I’m going to pass on the Fibonacci Award for a few blogs that I find to be inspirational. They are under no constraints to pass this on or post anything about it. I just want to shine a light on a few blogs that haven’t been mentioned as much lately, but are no less deserving.

1. XXX Marks the Plot- Anyone can talk about the sex in porn films. It’s not hard to give a laundry list of positions and such, but it is really boring. Thankfully, there are bloggers like Mr. X-Ray who take the time to look at the stories that porn movies are telling. You know the stories, the parts between the sex. This is consistently one of my favorite reads, and I love his slant on the oft maligned material.

2. Italian Film Review- You know I love me some Italian film, but you know who I love to hear talk about them? A Welsh guy! That’s right Nigel does his review up short and sweet, but they’re always to the point and let me know everything I need to know when making my viewing decisions.

3. Plaid Stallions- One of the things I love most about ‘70’s cinema is the clothes. So one place I love to check out every day is Plaid Stallions. There’s nothing better than checking out the styles, ads, and toys that exist now only on the edges of my memories. Now they also exist on this fine blog, and I’m constantly inspired by this site to keep digging in thrift stores until I find his and hers matching jumpsuits.

4. The Realm of Ryan- I don’t care how many awards I get, I will ways pass one on to Ryan. There’s no one blogger that inspires me more than Ryan. From his two successful runs at National Novel Writing Month, his columns over at Black Gate, or his insightful reviews, I am constantly astounded by the talent this guy has. Plus he’s got a great collection of suits and hats, and that’s something that really inspires me. Someday I might even find out who his tailor is.

I think that about wraps it up. I could have easily turned around and given an award to any of the blogs who lauded me or any of the great blogs included in Bugg Zappers on the sidebar. There are so many great sites out there, and it’s nice to see all this love being spread around. Thanks for reading, thanks for the awards, and thanks to anyone who goes and checks any of the blogs I recommended.

The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978): You Wont Believe It's Not Italian

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 17:39:00 +0000

Beautiful Ladies of Genre is back, and I wanted to pick one of my favorite actresses from the ‘70’s to kick off the New Year. From Bonnie and Clyde and Network to Chinatown and Barfly, Faye Dunaway starred in so many of my favorite films. One of her movies that I didn’t know a thing about was The Eyes of Laura Mars, but after reading over the cast and looking into the film a bit, I knew I had to see it. Coming off her best actress win for Network, Dunaway landed this part when the films original lead, Barbara Streisand, dropped out of the role due to the racy nature of the story. It is a little racy, a little bloody, and even a little supernatural around the edges, but the most important thing that The Eyes of Laura Mars might be is a fantastic example of an American giallo.

Titular character Laura Mars (Dunaway) is a famous and controversial photographer who is often criticized for the images of violence and death in her work. On the night of her big gallery opening, the editor of Laura’s book of photographs is brutally killed, and Laura had dreamed the killing just as it happened. Police detective John Neville (Tommy Lee Jones) notices the similarities between Laura’s pictures and a string of unsolved murders spanning two years. The cops soon clear Laura of any wrongdoing, but they begin to delve into her life examining the men in her life including her manager Donald Phelps (Rene Auberjonois), her driver Tommy (Brad Dorif), and her ex-husband Michael (Raul Julia). As the bodies continue to pile up, Laura’s visions of the murders become more intense, and the killer must be stopped before he makes Laura his final target.

If I read you that plot, without the famous Hollywood names thrown in, it would sound an awful lot like it came through the lens of Dario Argento. While it did not come directly from him, it surely is a film that is reflected though a prism of many Italian genre filmmakers’ work. The original kernel of the idea for The Eyes of Laura Mars comes from a spec script called Eyes by John Carpenter. His film Halloween, also released in 1978, would owe something of a debt to a similar kind of “spaghetti nightmare”. The script was bought by producer Jon Peters as a vehicle for his girlfriend, the aforementioned Streisand, and he brought on David Zelag Goodman, writer of Logan’s Run and Straw Dogs, to put a polish on the script. There’s no way to tell what is Goodman and what was Carpenter, but the heavy feeling of paranoia, the obvious nods to the Italian giallo film, and the sudden violence feels like Carpenter’s work.

Peters brought in director Irvin Kerhner, a twenty year veteran of the business with a journeyman résumé. Kerhner gave the film a dreamlike quality, but without the dark, moodiness that giallo films typically have. (In a way, I wonder if the bright, modern feeling of The Eyes of Laura Mars influenced Argento when he returned to the genre 1982 with the brightly lit Tenebre.) Kerhner did crib from the Italian film playbook with the fetishistic amount of footage dedicated to eyes, but the difference is in an Italian film, you’d get to see more of the victims get their eyes stabbed out than the implied violence shown in the film. The cinematic tone of the film is dead on and Kerhner and director of photography Victor Kemper (Dog Day Afternoon, The Jerk, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure) use the camera to build tension quite effectively. The Eyes of Laura Mars also captures the gritty, grimy look of late ’70’s New York, and that added a lot of flavor to the film. While the movie was only a moderate financial success, an early screening of the film convinced George Lucas to hire Kerhner to direct The Empire Strikes Back, and changed his career considerably.

Of course all of this would have been for nothing if the lead role had been played by Barbara Streisand. I can’t see Babs being able to give the same wounded, paranoid performance as Faye Dunaway. She gives Lara Mars intensity without ever going over the top (for that performance see Mommy Dearest). It’s really a different kind of role than I normally expect from her. When you look at characters like Bonnie Parker or Diane Christianson in Network, you see a strong character. Even her role in the classic Chinatown is not without strength. Laura Mars is a woman caught in an insulated spiral of violence. After all, your friends getting killed is bad, but having to helplessly watch it would drive most people crazy. Her weakness and vulnerability serves to heighten the suspense, and Miss Dunaway definitely gives the standout performance in this film.

That’s not to say that the supporting cast is not without people who should be mentioned. One of the reasons I chose to check this flick out was the sheer amount of performers in it. Tommy Lee Jones’s cop is a seventies guy all the way and from his glorious mane of hair to his bellbottomed jeans, and he is very entertaining to watch though I do think he was much, much better in his next film 1980’s Coal Miner’s Daughter. The Eyes of Laura Mars also garners supporting roles from Rene Auberjonois as Laura’s fey manager, Raul Julia as her slimy, abusive ex-husband, and Brad Dorif as her ex-con driver. All three are great to watch and if there’s another film that has Odo from Deep Space Nine, Gomez from the Addams Family, and Chuckie in it then I would love to know what it is.

Fans of giallo film and seventies cinema should definitely be checking this one out. It doesn’t have all of the charm of contemporary Italian fare, but its got tons of style and a pretty fascinating storyline to boot. The thing it does best is play with misdirection. It kept me guessing who the culprit was right up until the end, and the finale of the film was far from what I expected. In fact, this film was pretty far from what I expected. I came across The Eyes of Laura Mars while browsing the “Watch It Now” portion of Netflix, and I’m certainly glad I gave it a shot. It’s a slice of ‘70’s cinema that definitely deserves to have more eyes on it.

Bugg Rating

Mr. Sardonicus (1961): Wednesday With William Will Make You Grin

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 16:15:00 +0000

Welcome back everyone. Before we get started here, I’m going to hand out stuffed mackerels to each one of you readers out there. You may wonder what you’ll be doing with a stuffed mackerel. Well, just hang onto it for now, you’ll need it later on. Because before I can get into that, I think I should talk about this week’s Wednesday With William film, Mr. Sardonicus. As the early ‘60’s dawned, William Castle was on a winning streak. The House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler, and 13 Ghosts were all great successes, and with each release Castle’s reputation as a showman grew exponentially as well. Always looking for a new angle to promote his film, the inspiration for the Mr. Sardonicus’ gimmick grew from the studio being unhappy with the ending. So, Mr. Castle thought it was high time he gave the audience a choice.

The film introduces us to Sir Robert Cargrave (Ronald Lewis), a respected surgeon who has a specialty in muscular relaxation. He is delivered a letter from his old flame Maude (Audrey Dalton) asking him to come to her home in Gorslava because he is urgently needed. When he arrives, he is reunited with Maude who is now unhappily married to the mysterious, masked Baron Sardonicus (Guy Rolfe). She has asked Robert to make the trip in hopes that he can cure the Baron of his curse. Years ago when the Baron tried to recover a winning lottery ticket from the casket of his dead father, his face became permanently contorted into a ghastly grin. Over the years, the Baron has retained a tenuous grasp on his sanity, and now he insists that Robert help him or there will be dire consequences for Maude.

Mr. Sardonicus was a different kind of film for William Castle. It had much more in common with the moody gothic horrors of the 1940’s than his own contemporary productions. It is easy to see how this film could have been made years earlier, perhaps even as some kind of twisted remake of Paul Levi’s 1922 film The Man Who Laughs. Castle optioned the story from Ray Russell after reading it in Playboy, and he also employed the writer to adapt it for the screen. It was Russell’s first screen credit, but he would go on to pen 1962’s Premature Burial, William Castle’s Zots! (1962), and the 1963 classic X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes. Russell’s script is well paced and moves along with none of the drag of the gothic horror films that inspired it.

While part of the credit surely rests with Russell, Castle really made this film what it was. Castle and veteran cinematographer Burnett Guffey captured the gothic feeling of the film perfectly. The moody lighting and artistic angles that feel like a throwback to German expressionist film give the film a level of tension on a purely cinematic level. If there was one drawback to Mr. Sardonicus, it would be the facial appliance worn by the title character to distort his face. It is creepy looking, but by today’s standards (or even 1961’s) it looks a bit cheap. Wisely, it is mostly kept off camera, and Castle allows its few appearances to be brief and shocking. I can’t help but compare Sardonicus’ grin with the makeup Tim Burton would use for Jack Nicholson’s Joker in Batman.

Acting from behind immobile makeup or a full facial mask for most of the film, Guy Rolfe really does a great job in the titular role of Sardonicus. Except for a small portion of the film, Rolfe’s voice must carry his performance. Rolfe was a veteran of costume dramas, and he definitely brought the same kind of grandeur to the role of Sardonicus. It was especially fascinating to see him play the character before and after the events that leave his face with the horrible smile. He made the most of his scenes unhindered by effects, and he filled them with a pathos that really informs the character arc of Baron Sardonicus. Later in Rolfe’s career he would make several other horror gems such as Dolls (1987) and 1973’s …And Now the Screaming Starts, but his last few films would give him another great horror role when he played Andre Toulon in the third, fourth, and fifth installments of the Puppet Master series.

The other standout in the cast is Oskar Homolka as Sardonicus’ one eyed, trollish servant Krull. Homolka was a lifelong character actor, and he has one of those faces that the viewer knows they’ve seen even if they can’t place it. His most memorable role before Sardonicus was Hitchcock’s 1936 film Sabotage, but that performance pales in comparison to the deviant, yet sympathetic, turn Homolka has as Krull. The part could easily have been nothing more than a one dimensional “Igor” type part; instead, Homolka used a few memorable character traits to tell a story beyond the written dialog. This is also true to a lesser extent of Erika Peters as Sardonicus’ first wife Elinka. She only had a few moments of screen time, but her conniving, money-grubbing character, is surely a memorable performance.

The weakest portion of the film, as seems like is often the case in Castle’s films, was the young couple involved in the story. Ronald Lewis and Audrey Dalton barely make an impression as Sir Robert and his unrequited love, Baroness Maude. Their story is bland and restrained, which fits the gothic storytelling, but left me waiting expectantly for the next time Sardonicus would show up. Lewis does have a few entertaining lines explaining his new fangled gadget, the hypodermic needle. Each time he would say anything about it, he took the time to sound it out which was nice. This wasn’t just entertainment. It was an education.

Speaking of entertainment, I must get back to Castle’s gimmick. As the filmmaker explains at the start of the picture, the audience was given a card with a picture of a thumb on it. With this card, they would determine the fate of Sardonicus at the end of the film. The idea for this one hit Castle when the studio asked for a happy ending to replace the grim finale of the story. There is some controversy over whether such an ending was shot, but it seems pretty universally accepted that it was never shown. At the end of the film, Castle appears again to ask for a thumbs up or down vote, and then he proceeds to tally them right from the screen. Calculating that no audience out to see a William Castle film was going to spare the villain as ghastly end, he gave the audience what they wanted every time.

So you might be wondering why I handed out stuffed mackerels to each of you as you came in. First off, I wanted to see how long I could get you guys and gals to hold a stuffed mackerel. Let me say, I’m pretty impressed. Now they do have a purpose though. With those mackerels, you’re going to help me determine the Bugg rating for this film. So hold them up, or don’t, whatever your preference may be. Ok, ok, let’s see. Yes, we’ve got a result. Here’s the grade that I give it because you voted for it with stuffed mackerels…

Bugg Rating

Bloody New Year (1987) We're Gonna Party Like It's 1959

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 15:15:00 +0000

When it comes to holiday themed genre films, some holidays have it easier than others. Christmas is by far the champ while St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Valentine’s Day, and Arbor Day have to scrape by with a few selections. When it comes to New Years, you’ve only got a couple of choices, most popularly 1980’s New Year’s Evil and 1987’s Bloody New Year. I really wanted to see New Year’s Evil, but since it’s out of print and runs between 15 and 30 bucks for a VHS copy, welcome to my review of the British holiday sensation Bloody New Year. Directed by Norman J. Warren, the auteur behind Inseminoid (1981) and Terror (1978) brings us a New Year’s horror set in the middle of the summer. Hey, I said it was a holiday sensation, but I didn’t say what kind.

After a group of young adults runs afoul of a group of carnies at an amusement park, they get on their boat and take to the sea. They get shipwrecked on a nearby island, and find a seemingly abandoned hotel decorated for a New Year’s Eve party. Strange things start happening around them, and the group soon encounters unseen stalkers, demented zombies, and seaweed monsters. Eventually they learn that they are trapped on an island that’s caught in a time warp, forever existing on New Year’s Eve, 1959. They must find a way to leave the island before they become part of the celebration forever.

There are a few things you’ll notice about this review. The first of which is that it’s going to be fairly short. I just don’t have much to say about this one. The second of which is that, unlike most of my synopsis, I didn’t bother to list any of the actors in the description of the film. That’s because there’s really no one interesting or memorable in this film. The only one that comes close is Nikki Brooks, and that’s only because she’s cute as a button. Other than that, no one made enough of an impression to need anything else said about them.

I do have a few general things to say about the film. First off, who pisses off carnies? Living in the Southern United States, I’ve seen my share of scary carnies, but the trio of British fair workers that the protagonists tick off definitely is not a bunch that I would mess with. Not only are they mean looking, but they’re apparently expert trackers. The kids leave them far behind before they go out to sea, and the carnies still manage to find their way to the island. That’s a talent far beyond working a tilt-a-whirl, but I suppose when you look like a pack of greasers and carry chains to beat people with, there was just not a lot of good choices for occupation in late ‘80’s Britain.

Next up, why can’t people get out of nets? One of the ladies in the film gets a net dropped on her, and it's game over. There’s just no way out of it. Once a character in a film gets a net dropped on them it’s like they’re trapped in the most complex trap known to man. This gal, she even had someone there to help her out of it, and he can’t get her to stay still long enough to get out of it. So the lesson to take away here is that if you find yourself trapped in a net. Take a moment. Take a deep breath, realize that nets are open on the bottom, and you’ll be okay.

That’s really all I have to say about Bloody New Year. It’s not a film I could recommend unless you were throwing something on for a background film. It might be a little bit of fun to laugh at with some friends or to drift in and out of the bizarre sequences that make up this patchwork of a film. It did however make me come to a resolution for 2010. By the time this New Year ends, I will get a copy of New Year’s Evil.

Happy New Year, everyone! Come on back tomorrow because I have a big announcement to make about January, and I’m going to need your help. So after you nurse the hangover, come hang out in the Lair. I promise there are no nets or carnies involved.

Bugg Rating

The Tingler (1959): Wednesdays With William Gives You a Buzz

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Today when a movie studio wants to try a gimmick all they can muster up is blue people flying around in 3D, but in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s they knew how it was done. Yet only one man could be called the King of the Gimmicks, and that man is William Castle. Starting this week and running through the next couple of months, each Wednesday I’ll be looking at one of Castle’s films and the trick he had up his sleeve to promote it. I’ve always found Mr. Castle to be a fascinating character, a king of P.T. Barnum for the motion picture era, and while he was involved with many, many great films, the first that always comes to my mind is 1959’s The Tingler.

After the success of Castle’s film House on Haunted Hill, Columbia Pictures was eager to capitalize on the pairing of Castle and Vincent Price. Robb White, who had written House on Haunted Hill and Castle’s film Macabre, was brought in to write the new film. He took his inspiration from a rubber worm that was made, but not used, in Haunted Hill and grafted on his own experiences with the then legal drug LSD. What he came up with is one of the most absurd plots ever put to film, but it worked directly into the hands of Castle who had an incredible idea for a gimmick.

Vincent Price plays Dr. Warren Chapin, a pathologist who also has a hobby of studying the effects of fear. As Dr. Chapin says, “there’s a force inside of us that science knows nothing about, the force of fear.” Chapin and his assistant David Morris (Darryl Hickman) will stop at nothing to further their research even if it means scaring cats, dogs, or Chapin’s own unfaithful wife. They discover that there seems to be an organism that forms on the spine when people are frightened, and only the release of fear by screaming will make the beast, which they dub the Tingler, subside. Chapin experiments with LSD to try to elicit extreme fear in himself, but he can’t keep himself from screaming. So he injects a deaf/mute woman (Judith Evelyn) with the drug, and she dies of extreme fright. During the autopsy, he removes the Tingler from her back so he can study it. It doesn’t take long before it gets loose, and now everyone must scream to save their lives.

During the climax of the film with the Tingler gets loose in a movie theater is when William Castle’s gimmick went to work. The Tingler was billed as being filmed in Percepto, and Castle made a disclaimer for the beginning to the film explaining what might happen to the audience. In part he says, “ I feel obligated to warn you that some of the sensations— some of the physical reactions which the actors on the screen will feel— will also be experienced, for the first time in motion picture history, by certain members of this audience.” It was only certain members of the audience because only some seats where equipped with the vibrating box that went off. For years, many people thought that the audience was actually given electric shocks, and Castle didn’t help matters by stating it incorrectly in his biography. The film going experience didn’t end with vibrating seats. Castle also planted people in the audience to scream at key times and women who would faint and have to be taken from the theater. Seeing The Tingler must have been unlike seeing any other film, and it’s an experience I wish I could have had.

The gimmick aside, the film is filled with some great performances. In the documentary about The Tingler included on the disk, someone pointed out that Vincent Price could deliver the most absurd dialog and make it sound feasible. He definitely was working overtime in that department with this film. The best dialog in the film has to be the interchanges between Price’s Warren Chapin and his philandering wife Isabel played by Patricia Cutts. Here’s one of my favorites:

Isabel: "You know, Warren, you've lost contact with living people. Nobody means anything to you anymore, unless they're dead and you can root around in them with your sharp little knives. There's a word for you."

Warren: "There's several for you."

This verbal sparing really gives the film some pep in the beginning if the film when things are getting started. Price and Cutts had an explosive chemistry that leapt off the screen. Although there would have been no reason for it, I did kind of wish for more scenes between the two of them.

There are also several other supporting roles I have to mention. Pamela Lincoln played Isabel’s younger sister, and she was engaged to actor Darryl Hickman. William Castle got Hickman to take the part to help Lincoln’s career, and some places say Hickman was talked into doing the part for free. Both Hickman and Lincoln are adequate in their parts, but neither one are particularly memorable. On the other hand, Judith Evelyn as the deaf/mute Ms. Higgins was really good. Ms. Higgins and her husband Ollie (Phillip Coolidge) own a silent movie theater, and the character that Evelyn played seemed like she stepped right off that silent movie screen. I really enjoyed watching the performance. It’s also kind of fascinating that Evelyn’s other widely known performance is also one without words. She played Miss Lonely Hearts in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window.

The Tingler, without all the history and gimmicks, is a standard late 50’s shocker with some pretty shoddy special effects. If you can’t see the wire dragging the Tingler around the screen, then you must not be looking very hard. Yet the magic of William Castle rubs off all over this film, and even fifty years later, it still holds up as an enjoyably fun film. I had a great time watching it, and if you haven’t seen it, I think you’ll have a great time too. So check it out, and don’t forget to scream because it just might save your life!

Bugg Rating

Psycho II (1983): More Psycho Killer? Qu'est-ce que c'est ? Indeed.

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Even though I’ve heard good things about Psycho II, it’s a film that I’ve avoided for some time. Long time readers will know that I can talk about Mr. Hitchcock and his films ad nauseum, and while Vertigo remains my favorite, Psycho runs a tight second. It’s a virtually flawless film, and it established the Master of Suspense as a legend in the world of horror as well. Psycho is a film I’ve seen dozens of times, and I’ve spent countless hours thinking and researching it (if you have any doubt about that you can check out my massive three post review starting HERE). The idea of a sequel made more than twenty years after the fact and directed by the man who helmed Patrick and Cloak and Dagger just didn’t appeal to me. Recently I ran across a copy on DVD and since a few friends of mine encouraged me to see it, I bought a copy of Psycho II.

Wisely, the sequel is set 22 years after the events of the first film, and Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) is being released from the mental institution much to the dismay of Lila Loomis (Vera Miles returning as the same character she played in Hitchcock’s film). Norman’s doctor, Bill Raymond (Robert Loggia), says that his patient is completely rehabilitated, and he’s got Norman a job in a local diner. There he meets a waitress, Mary Samuels (Meg Tilly) who he invites to stay at his home and help him recover. It’s not long before Bates starts to get phone calls, have visions, and receive notes from his mother, and Norman starts to descend into madness again. Only this time he’s getting some help, Mary Samuels is really Mary Loomis, and she and her mother plan to put Norman back into the asylum before he can kill again.

I want to say right off the bat that Psycho II far exceeded my expectations. Granted they were pretty low, but I was really surprised how much I got out of this film. Since I didn’t know anything about it going in, it was an interesting twist that Norman was going to be the protagonist this time around. The film does a good job with making the first picture’s psycho killer into a sympathetic character. I can’t think of another occasion where this transition has worked. As a viewer I was torn between wanting Norman to remain sane and waiting for him to get tarted up and start stabbing people in the shower. For at least half of the film, it’s unclear what is real and what is in his head, and it makes for quite an engrossing watch.

Anthony Perkins is really in fine form here, and even 22 years after he originated the role, he manages to capture the same nervous ticks that made Norman Bates such an interesting character. The best parts come after Norman discovers the plot to drive him insane and begins to turn the tables. Watching Perkins portray the barely restrained glee as Norman messes with Mary and Lila’s heads brought a smile to my face. It’s really impressive that Perkins could summon a character that was so far in his past, but perhaps more interestingly make him sympathetic. We know Norman is a killer, and we’ve seen what he did to Marian Crane in the shower. Somehow Perkins’ performance makes that all fade away. For years he tried to escape the shadow of Norman Bates. With Psycho II, he embraced it fully and what came though was a thrill to watch.

Now Mr. Perkins is not the only returning actor. Vera Miles does a wonderful job as the conniving Lila Loomis (her maiden name is of course Crane). I can’t say I blame Lila for wanting Norman locked away. If he killed my sister then I would too. Yet as much as Norman is our sympathetic protagonist, Lila is played as the evil, scheming antagonist. I think this was a very interesting choice. If the film had been about Norman getting out, killing folks, and Lila being the crusader who brought him to justice, it would have felt like a silly cop out. Many of Miles’ scenes are shared with Meg Tilly as Mary Loomis. It was quite a good little nod to the original film when she introduces herself to Norman as Mary Samuels, the name Marion Crane used to check in at the Bates Motel. Tilly is good in her part as well, but she’s saddled with one of the most tragic haircuts in movie history. Seriously, this is a mullet that would make Billy Ray Cyrus cry.

There are two other performances I want to point out briefly. The first is Robert Loggia as Norman’s shrink. No matter what film I see him in; Robert Loggia is one of those actors who seem to play everything the same. That really doesn’t bother me, and I always enjoy saying Robert Loggia. It’s something of a mantra to me. I don’t know what it is, but there’s a calming effect. Say it with me. Robert Loggia. Doesn’t that feel nice? The other interesting fellow is Mr. Prime Time Bare Ass himself, Dennis Franz. I don’t know if Franz has ever looked quite as slimy as he did as the scoundrel Warren Toomey who is the new manager of the Bates Motel. The scenes he shares with Perkins are really nice, and it really takes someone special to seem more reprehensible than a serial killer.

I wasn’t a huge fan of director Richard Franklin’s film Patrick although I do really love his 1984 feature Cloak and Dagger. Psycho II can surely be added to the list of his films I enjoy. Franklin chose John Carpenter’s frequent collaborator Dean Cundey as his cinematographer, and the pair did a really good job of invoking Hitchcockian style without feeling like they were cribbing from the master. Psycho II was also very well written by screenwriter Tom Holland whose other credits include Child’s Play, Fright Night, Class of 1984, and the aforementioned Cloak and Dagger. Holland made all the right choices, and the pairing of his script with Franklin’s direction lets the film have a life of its own without existing only in the shadow of its predecessor.

If anyone was going to be really harsh on a sequel to Psycho, then I think it would be me. I was all set to rip this film apart and trash it from stem to stern, but surprisingly, I didn’t get a chance to do so. Now I don’t want you folks to get me wrong. Psycho II never reaches the level that the original film climbed to, but judged solely on its own merits, Psycho II is a film I can recommend to fans of the original. Getting to spend another ninety minutes delving into the psyche of Norman Bates with this quality film is enough to leave a smile on anyone’s face.

Bugg Rating

Col cuore in gola a.k.a Deadly Sweet. (1967): Tinto Brass' Pop Art Giallo

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 01:00:00 +0000

I’m back, and I’m rested, ready, and relaxed after the Christmas break. I hope everyone had a great holiday, and that you all got everything you wanted from Mr. Claus. I got plenty of great gifts, and of course, the people who know me well know there’s nothing I love more than movies. So I opened plenty of packages to find cinematic delights within. One of those films came from my lovely wife who hunted far and wide to find something interesting that I would like and did not have. What she came back with was an interesting film indeed, Tinto Brass’ 1967 film Col cuore in gola a.k.a Deadly Sweet. Billed as a “A Sexy Giallo Thriller”, the film delivers on most counts, and it throws in art house overtones, pop art references, and a few comic moments for good measure.

Bernard (Jean-Louis Trintgnant) is a French actor visiting London who meets the beautiful Jane (Ewa Aulin) while he’s out at the disco. Jane’s father was recently killed in a hit and run accident, and when Bernard follows her out of the club, he finds another dead man at her feet. Jane claims she didn’t do it, and he’s so smitten he whisks her away before the cops arrive. At his apartment, she tells him that the man had been blackmailing her father with pictures of her stepmother. Bernard promises to help her find out who killed the blackmailer and clear her name. He begins his investigation, and soon everyone from a thug named Jelly Roll to a midget is out to get him before he can solve the case.

Tinto Brass is probably best known for his erotic film work including films such as 1976’s Salon Kitty, 2000’s Cheeky (which is about what you‘d think it might be about), and infamously 1979’s Caligula which he performed principal photography on before being fired and replaced by Bob Guccione. Brass started his career with more of a directionless motion trying his hand at spaghetti western (Yankee, 1966), science fiction sex comedy (Il disco volante, 1964) and even straight drama (Chi lavora e perduto, 1963). With 1967’s Col cuore in gola, Brass planted the seeds of what would become his style of filmmaking, sexy and artistic with a snappy script. Even so, it is clearly the film of a less experienced filmmaker.

While in his later films Mr. Brass always exhibited a desire for artistically driven film within the context of the Exploitation genre, he really threw everything including the kitchen sink at Col cuore in gola. The film transitions from black and white to color at a whim, has flashes of Lichtenstein’s pop art paintings, and features quite a few moments that seem reminiscent of Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow Up. He also doesn’t hold back from using duel or even triple split screens. Some of these things work. The split screen scenes are particularly effective, but with so many random things inserted, it really muddies up the narrative. If I had not been taking notes while watching, the main story arc could be easily lost in the confusing mess of artistic flourishes. Another thing that held the film back was the music by Armando Troajoli. While I liked it generally, the whole film is tracked by two or three pieces of music, and it got very repetitive. The main theme was especially memorable, but after you hear it 10-12 times, it loses something.

The only actor I was very familiar with in Col cuore in gola was Jean-Louis Trintgnant, best known for the title role in the Corbucci western The Great Silence. It was strange to see him suited up and debonair, but he does a fine job as the French actor Bernard who is caught up in a mystery. He acquitted himself well with the action sequences, but he really shined in the film’s comic moments. I do wish a little more depth had been added to his character so there was some motivation for him to get involved in Jane’s life. Speaking of Jane, she was played by the lovely Ewa Aulin who also starred in the 1968 film Candy. She gives Jane the proper damsel in distress vibe, and even though we don’t get much of Bernard’s motivations, its easy to see how he could be swayed by the large eyes, innocent looking Jane. There is more to her character than it seems at first glance, but it wouldn’t be much of a mystery otherwise.

At about one hour and twenty-two minutes into the film, Bernard bemoans that he is “getting tired of this mystery”, and unfortunately, many viewers will feel the same. With little to no connection built between the audience and the two lead characters. It is difficult to keep invested in their plight. It is also problematic that every time Brass builds any suspense it is broken up by one of his artsy distractions. I really wanted to like Col cuore in gola more than I did. The style that it exhibits is very interesting at first, and the erotic aspects of the film are not as front and center as Brass’ later work. It just never really comes together. It’s also something of a stretch to label this film a giallo. Certainly, there is a mystery, but fans of the genre will be disappointed by the pair of murders in the film both of which occur off-screen.

Fans of Tinto Brass will surely be interested to see this one and check out the filmmaker in his younger years, but many other viewers will find themselves confused or bewildered by the meandering cinematic themes. The thing I will remember most from the film is a quote from Bernard’s character, “Water on a woman’s body is like dew on a rose.” Lao Tse.” I couldn’t find out if that was a real saying from Lao Tse, but it doesn’t really matter. It was smooth as hell, and definitely one I have to file away for use down the line. Col cuore in gola is ultimately a film for the more hardcore of Italian film fans or for anyone who has seen all the better-known gialli. So check it out, but if you want to follow what’s going on, you may want to take a few notes.

Bugg Rating

Merry Christmas From The Lightning Bug's Lair

noreply@blogger.com (T.L Bugg) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 14:00:00 +0000

Heya folks.

I hope everyone has a great holiday no matter how you celebrate!If I could set out enough milk and cookies for the lot of you, I would do it in an instant.

I'm going to take the weekend off to enjoy time with friends and family, and I'll see you back here again Monday. Until then, to you and yours, I wish the Merriest of Christmas.

Your Pal

T.L. Bugg