The Curse of the Living Corpse (Del Tenney, 1964)

In 1892 New England, Rufus Sinclair, a tyrannical family man prone to cataleptic fits, passes away. His lawyer, James Benson (All My Children's Hugh Franklin), reads his will, which states that if his provisions are not fulfilled, his heirs will not only receive nothing, but die in the way they most fear. His wife Abigail (Helen Warren) will die by fire. Eldest son Bruce (Guiding Light's Robert Milli), an arrogant failed doctor with gambling debts, will be disfigured before he meets his end. Younger son Philip (Roy Scheider in his first film role), an alcoholic, will choke to death. Philip's conniving wife Vivian (Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women's Margot Hartman) will drown. Good-natured nephew Robert Harrington (The Doctors' Dino Narizzano...as you may have noticed, there are a lot of soap actors in this movie) will lose that which is dearest to him, presumably his beloved Deborah (Carnival of Souls' Candace Hilligoss), Benson's daughter. Family servant Seth (J. Frank Lucas) will be buried with his master. All the heirs have broken the provisions, and soon they begin being picked off one by one, and the conclusion seems inescapable Rufus Sinclair may not be dead...

Fifteen months later, I am back and hopefully better than ever. The Curse of the Living Corpse is the third film I've seen by Del Tenney, and without a doubt the best. The Horror of Party Beach was marred by lame comedy and a goofy-looking monster, although some great songs by the Del-Aires did help redeem it a smidgen, and I Eat Your Skin was a pre-Romero zombie story released six years after it was made on a double bill with the more entertaining I Drink Your Blood. Eventually, I'm gonna try to see Tenney's fourth and final film, Descendant, starring Jeremy London (T.S. Quint in Mallrats), Katherine Heigl, and William Katt. This film is a murder mystery that, while not innovative, is well-acted and enjoyable. Roy Scheider in particular turns in a great performance as the dry-witted drunk Philip, showing all the signs of future stardom. Candace Hilligoss isn't given as juicy a role as Mary Henry in her most famous film, but she acquits herself well nonetheless. With the exception of Abigail and Robert, none of the members of Rufus Sinclair's family (especially Clark Gable lookalike Bruce) are very sympathetic, and their deaths are no great losses, although it's worth wondering how much Rufus' undesirable traits, often referenced by the characters, rubbed off on them. Tenney himself plays the titular Living Corpse, clad in a hat, cloak, and scarf a la the Shadow. The Cross and the Switchblade's Paul Haney and Captain Video and His Video Rangers' George Cotton play passable comic relief Constables. The music by George Burt and Wilford L. Holcombe is nicely atmospheric, and Richard Hilliard's cinematography is another strong point of the film. Fans of mysteries may or may not get a kick out of some of the classic tropes used, including the killer peeking through the eyeholes of Rufus Sinclair's portrait at his widow. If you want to see Del Tenney at his best, head over to Amazon Prime and check it out!

Succubus (Necronomicon - Geträumte Sünden; Jesús Franco, 1968)

Lorna Green (Janine Reynaud, costar of Franco's Two Undercover Angels) is the star of  an S&M-themed nightclub act. Her boss Bill (Dr. Jekyll and the Wolfman’s Jack Taylor) is also her lover. Through the machinations of a mystery man (Michel Lemoine, Reynaud's husband at the time), Lorna, who has amnesia, begins experiencing dreams involving her killing people that come true. The first of her victims is Admiral Kapp (Franco regular Howard Vernon, or "Varnon" as the credits spell his name), who she stabs through the eye with a knitting needle.

I'm back! After three months of inactivity, something finally spurred me to revive this blog. I was doing a Google search for Andy Milligan's film Blood, and I was delighted to discover my review of same was the seventh result on the first page. Reasoning that would cause people looking for info about the film to check my review out, and from there perhaps my other critiques, I decided it was high time to get back to work.

This is the second Jess Franco movie I've reviewed here, the first being The Blood of Fu Manchu, but overall it's the seventeenth I've seen. Jess' work is a very mixed bag, but when he's good, he's really good. This film is really good Jess Franco. All his trademarks are here: nightclub scenes, zoom lens, and the awful Dr. Orloff himself, Howard Vernon. Of course, there's also some bare flesh on display, particularly from Reynaud, although Roger Ebert inexplicably called ugly in his review of Umberto Lenzi's Orgasmo according to Wikipedia. The film has a strong supernatural flavor, with Lemoine's character strongly implied to be the Devil himself.

The provenance of the film's original German title is somewhat curious. Franco claimed he came up with it when he saw a book entitled Necronomicon in writer Pier A. Caminnecci's home. Since the Necronomicon was originally the name of a cursed tome in H. P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, one wonders what Necronomicon this could be. The forgery by "Simon" would not be released until 1977, with George Hay's version following a year later. Methinks Jess might've been pulling our leg.

This has to be one of Franco's more surreal films. Among other weirdness, we see an LSD party held by a psychiatrist, played by Cave of the Living Dead's Adrian Hoven which boasts a little person butler who, along with the other guests, imitates a dog and then tries to gang-bang Lorna as Hoven (who was also a producer) reads from a book. Admiral Kapp, who is served by two men clad in bow ties, collars, and nothing else, plays a meandering game of word association ("Candy?" "Sperms.") with Lorna before she stabs him in the eye. Lorna has a collection of mannequins in historical gowns who seem to come to life when she kills a blonde post-coitus. It's appropriate that both Godard and Buñuel are name-dropped, two filmmakers who were no stranger to putting the bizarre on film.

Those two worthies are not the only pop culture references in the film. Camus' The Plague, Kafka's The Castle, Madame Butterfly, Doctor Zhivago, the Rolling Stones, Fritz Lang, Alfred Hitchcock, and others are mentioned. Such nods can be insufferable under the wrong hands, but they fit the tone of Franco's film rather well.

Succubus is without a doubt one of Franco's most unique films, and has already become one of my favorites of the many I've seen, which are nonetheless not even a tenth of his massive output. This is more The Awful Dr. Orloff than Female Vampire, a director who was capable of great highs and great lows showing what he could accomplish when he tried hard enough. Shudder subscribers can check it out there. Essential viewing for Francophiles!

Anatomy of a Psycho ("Brooke L. Peters" [Boris Petroff], 1961)

Chet Marko (Darrell Howe) visits his brother Duke on Death Row. On his way home, Chet is accosted by three hooligans, who slash his face with a broken beer bottle, leaving a scar. Returning home, Chet gets into an argument with his sister Pat (The Tingler's Pamela Lincoln), insisting Duke is innocent of murder. Meanwhile, we learn that the father of Chet's friend Mickey (Ronnie Burns, George Burns and Gracie Allen's adopted son) was the witness who identified Duke to the police. After Duke's execution, Chet and his friends don masks and give the D.A.'s son a beating as revenge. From there, Chet's violent behavior only escalates, while policeman Lt. Mac (Michael Granger) seeks to bring him to justice.

I've watched my share of "teenagers gone bad" films, and Anatomy of a Psycho is a contender for one of the best I've seen. It's a suspenseful, taut piece of cinema, and Darrell Howe turns in a performance that is frankly brilliant in in its intensity. Of Chet's buddies, General Hospital's Frank Killmond as the sycophantic Bobbie is a particular standout. Ronnie Burns is also quite good, flexing serious dramatic muscles to contrast with the comedic work his mom and dad were so famous for. Michael Granger makes a likable and dedicated cop. When he shows up at Chet's shack home without a warrant, he admits that he is breaking the law, and says that when a cop does that, people should worry. He's clearly saying that in a way that makes it clear he thinks cops should obey the laws they enforce. In the days when police brutality makes a movement like Black Lives Matter necessary, this made me warm to the character, although it is kind of goofy that when he first shows up at the shack he's jokingly wearing one of Chet and his pals' masks from when they roughed up the D.A.'s kid. Isn't that evidence?

Russian Boris Petroff's direction is able, and the solid script was written by Jane Mann of The Unearthly fame and Don Devlin, father of writer-producer Dean Devlin. Don also has a memorable role in the film as Chet's ex-Marine buddy Moe, who suffers a terrible betrayal at his friend's hand. Some of the music was recycled from Plan 9 from Outer Space, but while I deny to my dying breath that Ed Wood's most famous film is the worst ever made, Anatomy of a Psycho is a much stronger film overall. It deserves to be much better known than it currently is, but hopefully a recent showing on TCM will bring it a new following.

Neutron the Atomic Superman vs. the Death Robots (Los autómatas de la muerte; Federico Curiel 1962) and Love After Death (Glauco Del Mar, 1968)

Now that I'm set up with my new apartment and the internet, I am proud to present Diary of a Madman's very first double feature review! ("Science fiction, double feature..." to quote the immortal Richard O'Brien in one of my all-time favorite films, the ultimate midnight movie). Both films were made in Spanish-speaking countries in the 1960s, and both are in black and white, but there the similarity ends.

The evil Dr. Caronte is supposedly dead after his battle with the masked crimefighter Neutron, but in reality nothing could be farther from the truth. Caronte is alive and well, and is using the brains of three scientists whose bodies he stole from the grave, an army of hideous blood-drinking robots, and his little person henchman Nick in order to acquire the formula for a neutron bomb. Neutron must save the day once more. But who is Neutron? Three friends are potential candidates, all of whom are in a love triangle with lovely nightclub chanteuse Nora, the daughter of Professor Walker (The Mansion of Madness' Claudio Brook).

I love luchadore films. El Santo, Blue Demon, and their ilk push my buttons in the best ways. I don't care for American wrestling, but I dig the hell out of their Mexican counterparts. Neutron isn't a luchadore in the sense that he's a professional fighter, but with his black full-face mask with three lightning bolts on it, muscular physique, shirtlessness, fighting ability, and refusal to take off his mask, he fulfills every other aspect one associates with them. (However, he does not wear the cape seen on the film's poster). This was the second in a series of five Neutron films, with 1960's Neutron, the Man in the Black Mask representing the first battle between Neutron and Dr. Caronte. I've not seen the other films in the series, but this one was a lot of fun. The death robots are basically zombies, albeit blood-drinking rather than the flesh-eating type later created by George Romero and much imitated subsequently. There's an interesting scene where one of the robots literally loses his head. Both Neutron and the bandage-masked Dr. Caronte look cool, and Nick is a memorable character whose disability isn't exploited overmuch, even if the dwarf henchman is a genre standby. Claudio Brook is excellent as always,

The fact that Neutron's identity is never revealed (IMDB doesn't even list who plays him, or Dr. Caronte) is heavily played up, and the film never actually resolves which of Nora's three suitors is the masked man. Nora delivers a couple songs in Spanish, as do a male trio. The dubbing is pretty good for a Mexican film from the '60s, and there are some good lines, even if a policeman saying one of the robots "Looks like my mother-in-law!" made me roll my eyes. Neutron also appears to have pioneered the art of disappearing when the police aren't looking later pioneered by Batman. I cannot wait to see more of Neutron's adventures. Those of you with Amazon Prime memberships, give this film a look.

Mr. Montel (Guillermo de Cordóva) is prone to cataleptic fits, and during one of those episodes his beautiful blonde wife Sofia (Carmin O'Neal) and his friend Dr. Anderson (Roberto Maurano) claim he's dead and have him buried. Clawing his way out of the grave, Montel, who according to Sofia was impotent before, becomes a sex-crazed maniac, pursuing every woman he can find, sometimes with their consent, sometimes not. Meanwhile, Sofia and Dr. Anderson are having an affair, though the doc doesn't know Sofia is also screwing his crony Arturo (Angel Mario Ramirez). Discovering the plot that resulted in his burial, Montel vows revenge on his wife and the doctor.

Love After Death (or Unsatisfied Love as the print on my Something Weird Triple Feature DVD, which also includes The Atomic Brain and The Incredible Petrified World, is titled) is the second Argentinean sexploitation/horror hybrid I've seen, the first being another Something Weird release, The Curious Dr. Humpp. Neither are particularly good films, but of the two, this is probably the better. There's not much of a plot, and not a lot of dialogue either, with all of Montel's lines being delivered in voiceover as his inner monologue; it seems that he was unable to speak once he got out of his cataleptic state. What the film does have is its share of beautiful unclad women. While there's no male full frontal nudity, and the film never goes straight hardcore, we do come close to seeing genitalia at times. The film also touches on non-heteronormative sexual relations. An old woman who witnesses one of Montel's rapes says of his blonde victim, "If I was only ten years younger." Montel pursues a dancer he finds in a tryst with a woman, with said dancer turning out to be a male transvestite. There's also a lesbian couple. It's not a particularly progressive film in its sexual attitudes, but still worthy of note.

The horror elements are not very prominent, although there are some decent bloody FX when Montel gets his revenge. There's a surprise ending that, while I get what they were going for, still seems a bit bizarre. Montel's "castle" is clearly nothing of the sort. The best part is the opening where Montel is horrified that he can't tell his mourners he's not dead, followed by him busting out of his grave. It's too bad the rest of the movie couldn't be quite that strong.

Tomb of Torture (Metempsyco; "Anthony Kristye" [Antonio Boccaci], 1963)

Two young women (one of whom is played by Emy Eco, Umberto's sister) visit a seemingly abandoned castle, where they see the portrait of the beautiful Countess Irene, who mysterious vanished on the eve of her wedding night twenty years ago. The Countess Elizabeth (Django's Flora Carosello, billed here as Elizabeth Queen) demands that they leave, but they find all the doors locked. The girls fall victim to a gruesomely deformed man, who kills one and prepares to torture the other. Soon after, Dr. Darnell (Trinity is STILL My Name!'s Adriano Micantoni, aka "Thony Maky") arrives via coach at the castle, where the girls' bodies are being examined by a police constable. Said policeman believes they died of exposure, but the turbaned Raman (director Antonio Boccaci, aka "William Gray") thinks otherwise. Dr. Darnell, who is moving into the castle, has a daughter named Anna (Annie Alberti, aka Annie Albert) who is a dead ringer for the long lost Countess Irene.

Anna has a nightmare where she encounters several bizarre figures, including an individual clad in knight's armor who shoots a crossbow through her chest, after which she turns into Irene. Later, she meets reporter George Dickson while skinny dipping, and the two quickly become an item. The questions that must be answered are: is Anna indeed the reincarnation of Countess Irene, and if so, exactly how did the Countess die?

Tomb of Torture, originally known as Metempsyco, is an enjoyable enough piece of Gothic horror all'Italiana, but nowhere near the level of Mario Bava at the top of his game. Director Antonio Boccaci turned out a number of lurid and violent paperback novels prior to this film, so it's disappointing he didn't really go far enough here. Picked up for distribution in the United States by Richard Gordon, the dubbed version saddled many of the actors with questionable pseudonyms, with poor Adriano Micantoni in particular burdened with the unfortunate moniker Thony Maky, as stated above. The film was shown on a double bill with previous Diary of a Madman subject matter Cave of the Living Dead, which sadly is a better film in almost every way. While the Gothic tropes are all there - a decaying castle, a horrible secret, a lovely and innocent damsel in distress, etc. - it never quite gels into a solid film, and many things are left unanswered. Who is the monstrous torturer? What exactly were the Countess Elizabeth, Raman, and Dr. Darnell's connections to Countess Irene?

George and Anna have what seems like the quickest romantic connection in the history of Italian horror cinema. When they first meet, Anna thinks George is an annoying peeping tom, but soon comes to like him a bit. In the very next scene of them together, they're talking about leaving the castle and getting married. Keep in mind, there were no scenes in between developing their relationship, so I guess in the universe of this movie love at first sight is indeed a very real thing. Flora Carosello (or rather, the actress dubbing her voice) wildly overacts in the film's climax. It is interesting that the movie presents a character of Eastern ancestry whose ethnicity never really factors into the plot, though I've gotta deduct points for the fact he's played by the director in brownface. The most WTF line in the movie is when Dr. Darrell, flippantly dismissing the concerns of Constable Dobson, suggests he get himself an enema! Armando Sciascia's (The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein) atmosepheric music is without a doubt the best part of the movie. But if you want to judge for yourself, check it out on Fandor, assuming you have an account with them. And if you're still not sold, here's the trailer.

At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul (À Meia-Noite Levarei Sua Alma; José Mojica Marins, 1964)

After a funeral, the undertaker Zé do Caixão (director José Mojica Marins) returns to his home, where his maid-with-benefits Lenita (Valéria Vasquez) explains she is unable to serve him meat because of a religious holiday. Zé, a devout atheist, flies into a rage, and goes off to get some lamb. Before he goes, he is visited by his friend Antônio de Andrade (Nivaldo Lima) and his fiancée Terezhina de Oliveira (Magda Mei). Lenita is jealous of Zé's attraction to Terezhina. Zé takes Terezhina to meet Antônio later on, but she flees after Zé tries to force himself on her. At a bar, Zé becomes involved in a card game, and slashes another player's hand with a broken bottle when he refuses to pay up. Dr. Rodolfo (producer Ilídio Martins Simões) is called to treat the injured man. Zé makes advances towards a barmaid, but when the girl's uncle objects, a brawl breaks out, and Zé escapes only with Antônio's help. Zé, who wishes Terezhina to father his son in furtherance of what he calls the "continuity of the blood," chloroforms the infertile Lenita, ties her to a bed, tapes her mouth shut, and kills her with a venomous spider, making the bite look like an accident. More than two weeks later, Zé accompanies Antônio and Terezhina to a Romany ("gypsy") fortune teller called the Old Witch (Eucaris Moraes), who foretells that Antônio will die tonight, and must be buried at midnight. During an argument about religion, Zé hits Antônio in the head with a fireplace poker, than strangles him in a bathtub. At his funeral, Terezhina accuses Zé of murdering her fiancé. Visiting the bar once more, Zé buys a bird to give as a gift to Terezhina. When she rejects him once again, he bloodily beats and then rapes her. Terezhina tells Zé she will kill herself, and that at midnight he will, as the title suggests, take his soul.

I have been curious about the Zé do Caixão (or Coffin Joe as he's known in English-speaking countries) films for years, and I am pleased to say the first film in the trilogy exceeded my expectations. José Mojica Marins has crafted a truly memorable character. As Zé, Marins is utterly sinister, with his black top hat, suit, and cloak, beard, and pointy, curly fingernails. One would almost think there was something demonic about him, though the film never says such. His obsession with the "continuity of the blood," his macabre laugh, and his sadistic glee in destroying those who stand in his way make him a villain to be reckoned with. He believes that his lack of faith makes him stronger than the average person. (Speaking as an atheist myself, I'm not sure I'd go that far, but Zé is insane, so take that for what you will.) The film is atmospheric and has great music. Zé addresses the audience in a pre-opening credits scene, and the Old Witch right after the credits. The ending is extremely well staged and genuinely scary. Zé de Caixão became an iconic character in Brazil (indeed, this was the country's first ever horror film), and Marins brought the character back for two more films, This Night I Will Possess Your Corpse (1967) and Embodiment of Evil (2008). I know for damn sure I will be checking those out, particularly as I want to see how Zé could possibly bounce back from the events of this film.

Satan's Sadists (Al Adamson, 1969)

At a diner in the California desert, owner Lew (Half Past Midnight's Kent Taylor), waitress Tracy (Jacqulin Cole, credited as "Jackie Taylor"), ex-military policeman in Vietnam Johnny Martin (The Black Klansman's Gary Kent), and cop Charlie Baldwin (Gremlins' Scott Brady) and his wife Nora (Evelyn Frank) are taken hostage by the Satans, a group of degenerate bikers consisting of psycho leader Anchor (Twin Peaks' Russ Tamblyn), his lovesick old lady Gina (Regina Carrol, wife of director Al Adamson), mohawked half-Native American Firewater (Nightmare in Wax's John "Bud" Cardos), hearing aid-using LSD enthusiast Acid (screenwriter Greydon Clark, future director of such cult classics as Black Shampoo and Angels' Brigade, both featuring Jacqulin Cole herself, who had by that time become Mrs. Clark), eyepatched Willie (Deadwood '76's Robert Dix), and the not-as-distinctive Muscle (Bigfoot's William Bonner) and Romeo (Bobby Clark, who may or may not be related to Greydon, and oddly is credited on IMDB for his stuntwork in the film but not his acting).

Satan's Sadists is the third film I've seen by exploitation legend Al Adamson, and without a doubt the best of three, far outstripping The Dynamite Brothers, which is still a better blaxploitation-martial arts hybrid than The Tattoo Connection, and Dracula vs. Frankenstein, featuring J. Carroll Naish, Lon Chaney, Jr., and Angelo Rossitto at an all-time career low. As crazy biker movies go, it's not on the level of Russ Meyer's Motor Psycho, and in terms of flicks about loonies menacing diner patrons, it's probably not up to Ray Dennis Steckler's The Thrill Killers, but it's still damn entertaining. The Satans are drinking, drugging, raping, killing machines. Russ Tamblyn in particular is his usual delightful self, portraying Anchor as a giggling maniac who has absolutely no value for human life. John "Bud" Cardos delivers a fine performance as the only member of the Satans who has any compunctions about Anchor's ruthlessness. Regina Carrol, billed as "The Freak-Out Girl," does a sexy dance over jukebox music, and puts up with some pretty horrendous abuse from Tamblyn, which finally drives her over the edge... Gary Kent makes for a pretty bland hero, but it is cool seeing him use his 'Nam experience in fighting the Satans. Jacqulin Cole is a real looker and a pretty decent actress - it's easy to tell what Greydon saw in her. The film, ironically, was shot at the Spahn Ranch, where another mentally ill gang sadly would soon help end the Love Generation. Greydon's script has some memorable lines, such as Johnny saying "If you're a person, you're somebody?" or Romeo remarking about Nora, "She's sure got nice boobs!" Keep in mind, the person saying this is not 10 years old. There're some cool death scenes, including the first known toilet drowning in a film (interesting to see where that got started!), and psychedelic songs written by Harley Hatcher and performed by the Nightriders. Satan's Sadists is a groovy gas that all exploitation cinema fans must see! If you have a Fandor account, you can check it out there, but if you're still undecided, dig the trailer!

The Atomic Brain (Monstrosity; Joseph Mascelli and Jack Pollexfen, 1963)

Dr. Otto Frank (Killers from Space's Frank Gerstle) is a scientist working on brain transplantation using atomic fission, testing his process on corpses, although all that results are mindless zombies. He steals a woman's body from the local cemetery with the aid of Hans, a dog's brain in the body of a car crash victim. Dr. Frank's elderly employer, Hetty March (Night Tide's Marjorie Eaton), "one of the richest women in the world, wants him to use this process to put her brain into the body of a beautiful young woman, and therefore advertises for a foreign domestic. Three women are accepted: Viennese Nina Rhodes (Mr. Sardonicus' Judy Peters), buxom Englishwoman Beatrice "Bea" Mullins (A Bucket of Blood's Judy Bamber), and demure, somewhat plain Mexican Anita Gonzales (Gentlemen Prefers Blondes' Lisa Lang). Mrs. March's aging gigolo Victor (Frank Fowler) picks them up at the airport. Dr. Frank examines each woman for physical imperfections. Mrs. March declares Anita, who has a prominent birthmark on her back, "hideous" and "useless." Nina, finding Mrs. March and her house understandably creepy, attempts to give notice, but the old woman dismisses her desire. Soon after, Anita hears a knock on the door of her room, and screams upon opening it. Nina and Bea attempt to escape the house, but to no avail, while Anita gets a new brain of her own.

Most people who know me well are aware that Mystery Science Theater 3000 is one of my all-time favorite shows. A lot of film buffs hate the show, but I'm not one of them. That said, I will admit that not every movie they riffed is completely terrible. My unironic love for Mario Bava's Danger: Diabolik knows no bounds, and I find a lot to enjoy in some of the Roger Corman films they did, to name two prominent examples. Therefore, if I review a movie on here that the Best Brains crew gave the razz, I promise to give it a fair shake. Bava or Corman this isn't, though, sadly. It was filmed in ten days, and it shows. For one thing, the science is dodgy even by early '60s horror film standards. How exactly does one use atomic fission and a cyclotron to switch brains? We never see Dr. Frank performing surgery, so perhaps he's actually switching minds somehow...except we see him holding Mrs. March's brain at one point! Also, how does having a dog's brain in a human's body give the resulting individual a beetle brow and fangs? Early in the film, the actor playing Hans seems to be wearing a furry mask in a few shots, rather than the makeup he wears throughout most of the film. The soundtrack seems oddly whimsical and light-hearted during some of the scenes that are supposed to be dramatic. The accents of the three "foreign" domestics are all over the place: Peters doesn't even bother; Lang recites her lines flatly with the occasional bit of Spanish, and answers a knock on the door with "Quien es? Who ees eet?"; and Bamber sports one of the most pitiful attempts at a British accent I have ever heard in any film. Seriously, she makes Keira Knightley's Russian accent in A Dangerous Method seem subtle by comparison. She also chews the scenery big time in the scene where she realizes something horrible has happened to her. Gerstle is definitely the best actor in the whole film, and has a great monologue about how he has been ostracized for his work, while Dr. Alexis Carrel, the real-life transplant pioneer, received a Nobel Prize. I choose to believe, and may make it official in a short story or novel someday, that Dr. Otto Frank, the mad scientist who revives corpses and was scorned by his peers, shortened his last name because of the stigma attached to the name Frankenstein and many of his relatives. It's hard not to read a lesbian subtext into the way Marjorie Eaton paws at and ogles her potential new bodies, especially Bamber. Frank Fowler's Victor delivers the charming line, "She doesn't have a brain. There might be advantages!" The voiceover narration by co-screenwriter Dean Dillman, Jr.'s better-known brother Bradford is even worse, containing such lines as "Making love to an 80-year-old woman in the body of a 20-year-old girl is insanity!", "She was quite harmless, and at times even amusing", and "So firm...so nicely rounded in places men like." Keep in mind two of the other screenwriters, Sue Russell and Vy Dwiggins, were women themselves. This is also the second movie in a row I've covered that lists an animal in the closing credits, in this case Xerxes(!!!) the Cat. Those expecting more than cheese will be disappointed, and I wouldn't blame any feminists for hating it, but it's prime riffing material, even if you're just playing MST3K: The Home Version.

Blood Thirst (Newt Arnold, 1965)

The body of Maria Cortez, a dancer at Mr. Calderon's Barrio nightclub in Manila, is found hanging upside down from a tree, her forearms slashed and her blood drained. Inspector Miguel Ramos, believing the murder to be a sex crime, asks his friend Adam Rourke (no relation), who literally wrote the book on the subject of sex murders, to come to the Philippines to crack the case. Adam's wisecracking manner does not ingratiate him to Sylvia, Ramos' British adopted sister. There are rumors of the murder being occult in nature, though Adam is skeptical. Visiting the Barrio to find information, Adam sees sexy belly dancer Serena do her act, then tries to speak to Calderon, who rebuffs him until Serena convinces him otherwise. Soon after, an assassin tries to kill Adam with a machete while he sleeps, but the writer tricks him with Harvey, a mannequin he keeps in his suitcase.

I talked briefly about Filipino exploitation cinema in my review of For Y'ur Height Only, so I won't recap here. This particular entry, directed by Newt Arnold, who was an assistant director on such diverse films as In the Heat of the Night, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze, was released in the Philippines in 1965, but for unclear reasons not brought over to the U.S. until 1971. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that it's not very graphic, considering the title. Most of the killings happen offscreen, and there are lots of scenes in between of people talking, though thankfully it picks up toward the end. Vic Diaz, who was as much of a standby in Filipino trash flix as Fernando Sancho was in Spaghetti Westerns, turns in his usual solid work. Adam Rourke is played by Robert Winston, whom MSTies such as myself will know as Lt. Lyons in the Air Force "epic" The Starfighters, a movie which prompted Mike Nelson to declare, "I really think there's more nothing in this movie than any movie we've seen!" Those who've watched the episode would be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement. Adam's wisecracks are more obnoxious than funny, and frankly he's kind of a douche. Sylvia starts the movie hating him (and who can blame her, really?) but winds up falling for him. I always love a little weirdness in my exploitation fare, so Harvey the decoy mannequin was welcome, as is Herrera, a one-legged officer undercover as a beggar, who carries an artificial leg in a bundle. The movie isn't really scary, but it is somewhat moody. Our monstrous killer, unfortunately, looks like his head was made of chewed gum. The ending leaves a lot of unanswered questions. The killings are part of a ritual that is Aztec or Inca in nature, but it's never stated which. I get the sense Arnold thought, "Well, it's the occult, so we don't need to explain things that clearly." Still, I had fun, and I imagine watching it with a few friends would be even more entertaining.

Starting now, I'm gonna share links to where you can view some of these movies on (LEGAL) streaming services. This little beauty can be found on Amazon Prime.

Hot Skin, Cold Cash (Barry Mahon, 1965)

Shelly's husband is in prison, and to pay his lawyer Mr. Stone to get him out, she turns to prostitution, sending her son away and spending her nights walking through Times Square looking for clients. After sleeping with Stone, she encounters a variety of Johns, including a young Japanese photographer, a hepcat whose wife wants to have an affair with a woman but gets cold feet because Shelly is being paid to do it rather than actually wanting to, a priest who only wants to talk her out of her life of sin (as he sees it), a virgin who's put up to it by his potential frat brothers, and a guy who wants her to pose as his girlfriend at an orgy.

Barry Mahon is a director of odd dichotomies. Besides sexploitation fare like this, he also did a few kid's movies, including Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny, an utterly insane piece of garbage that makes Santa Claus Conquers the Martians look like A Christmas Story. His voodoo flick Blood of the Zombie is also extremely entertaining in an incompetent way. This movie has its share of odd moments, but is way more depressing than either of the two aforementioned Mahon films I've seen, which is saying something. Shelly (played by Victoria Astor, whose only other credit is Mahon's short Naked Moonshine) seems resigned to her fate, and says that men have been trying to get into her pants since she was 14. Despite this, most of her clients (with the exception of Mr. Stone and the virgin) never seem to actually have sex with her, so it's amazing she manages to make any money at all. The black and white film and minimal soundtrack only drive home how cold and harsh Shelly's world is. Despite this, it is still a Barry Mahon film, so there are a few moments that will make you go "What the fuck?" Shelly has a pet parakeet named Orpheus, which I would think was symbolic, but Shelly is trying to save her husband, not vice versa. Or it could be a cinematic in-joke, only I can't see Mahon being a Jean Cocteau fan. There's also Shelly telling the hepcat, "No ticky, no washy" (I wonder how Yoshi the photographer would've reacted to that), which causes him to tap-dance before giving her money. He also offers her a joint, which he refers to as "gin johnson," a term I've never heard, and for which Google doesn't seem to turn up many relevant results. During her conversation with the priest, we hear what sounds like a squeeze toy, but neither character remarks on it. At the orgy, Shelly's client has sex with a French girl (though both keep their undies on, as this movie is short on actual nudity), but the sound of buzzing coming from a closet leads him to discover a girl using a vibrator, who briefly comes out of the closet with another girl (more possible symbolism?). The two sniff the air and then go back in. Most of the actors had little-to-no experience, and it shows. Astor is surprisingly decent, but even better is Allen Joseph as the priest who tries to save her. Joseph had the most extensive career of anyone in the cast, and cult film fans will most likely recognize him as Henry Spencer's girlfriend's dad in Eraserhead. The cinematography by Joseph Mangine (whose other work includes The Naughty Victorians: An Erotic Tale of a Maiden's Revenge and 13 episodes of the Judy Blume adaptation Fudge) captures Times Square back in its grittier, pre-gentrification days, including a theater marquee with a title that, though partially obscured, end in "Pussy." A good movie this isn't, but it is an interesting time capsule for its time and place.