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!

The Ape Man (William Beaudine, 1943)

Agatha Brewster (Minerva Urecal) comes to America to find her brother James (Bela Lugosi), a scientist who has disappeared. James' colleague Dr. George Randall (Henry Hall) takes her to his mansion, where she learns that his experiments have transformed him into a half-man, half-ape. Investigating Dr. Brewster's disappearance are reporters Jeff Carter (Freaks' Wallace Ford) and Billie Mason (Adventures of Captain Marvel's Louise Currie). James' condition can be staved off with injections of spinal fluid, but this would require killing the donors, and Randall is understandably reluctant to do so. Therefore, James and his savage lab gorilla take matters into their own appendages...

The Ape Man is the third film I've seen directed by William Beaudine and starring Bela Lugosi, the other two being the fairly decent Voodoo Man and the execrable Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla, which I covered here a while back. Thankfully, our current subject is more akin to the former than the latter in terms of watchability. The absence of Sammy Petrillo helps considerably in that regard. Besides Bela, Louise Currie and Henry Hall were also in Voodoo Man. Both films also have surprisingly meta endings, in The Ape Man's case involving a oddball character who turns up at the most opportune times throughout the film, and whose identity is only revealed in the last scene. Bela as usual puts 110% into his performance. His ape makeup is cool, and way more convincing than the gorilla suit Emil Van Horn has to wear. Dr. Brewster's sister Agatha is supposedly a ghost-hunter, a la William Hope Hodgson's Carnacki, but other than a scene where Agatha attempts to convince Jeff and Billie the ooking they've heard coming from the mansion came from a spirit called "the Galloping Ghost," this never becomes relevant to the plot. Too bad, because an ape man and ghosts in the same movie would've been awesome, in my movie. Jeff is pretty much a sexist ass to Billie throughout, even though they're on friendly terms, stating in the aforementioned last scene he should take her over his knee for going off on her own to find Brewster. Then again, his character of Phroso in Freaks was kind of a jerk with a heart of gold, so there's precedent for such a character in his resume. Henry Hall is better here than he was in Voodoo Man, where he was saddled with lines like "Gosh all fish hooks!" and "What I'm really interested in is young girls," which taken out of context sounds really troublesome. Bela fans should definitely give this one a look-see.

The Demons of Ludlow (Bill Rebane, 1983)

Ludlow, an unincorporated New England town with a population of 47, is celebrating its bicentennial. Mayor Sam Donaldson (no relation, played by C. Dave Davis) unveils a piano, a behest from the deceased Ephraim Ludlow III, the great-grandson of the town's founder. When the piano is first played, a young couple are killed by a demon. Intrepid reporter Debra Hall (Stephanie Cushna), who was born in Ludlow but whose parents left the town when she was nine, tells her photographer Winifred (James R. Robinson) she has discovered the piano was in Ludlow once before, and soon after the church burned down. Donaldson tells the Reverend Chris (Paul von Hausen) not to bring up what happened before, and tells him several people are leaving town. It is revealed the town is cursed, and every time the piano is played, someone dies in a horrific manner.

The Demons of Ludlow is the third Bill Rebane film I've seen, but the first I've seen without the expert riffing of the Mystery Science Theater 3000 crew. Monster A Go-Go, finished by none other than Herschell Gordon Lewis after Wisconsonites Rebane ran out of money for filming, was declared by the Best Brains to be officially the worst movie they ever riffed, and if it isn't it's certainly up there (or down there), and sports one of the most infuriating non-endings in film history. The Giant Spider Invasion is a little better, but not by much, with some of the most unappealing cheeseheads ever caught on film and truly abysmal jokes by Alan Hale, Jr., the very first line out of whose mouth is, "Hi, little buddy!" Perhaps I'm grading on a curve, but The Demons of Ludlow is without a doubt the best of the three Rebane flix I have viewed to date. It has some genuinely creepy moments, and some decent acting, with Paul von Hausen as the Reverend being a particular standout. There's a disturbing scene where the mentally ill Emily (Patricia J. Statz), who talks to her dolls (including Smurfette!) as if they were alive, comes across a group of 18th century aristocrats who are having a frenzied feast. The aristos attack and kill her, ripping her top off in the process.

As with The Giant Spider Invasion, this film is something of a family affair, with Rebane's wife Barbara acting as executive producer and first assistant director. Alan Rebane (whose relationship to Bill I'm unsure of) serves as second assistant director and gaffer. Amazingly, Cheri Caffaro, the star of the Ginger series of softcore private eye films, was associate producer! She also apparently filled the same duties two years earlier on Rebane's film Rana: The Legend of Shadow Lake. Those who only know Rebane from MST3K would do well to check this film out, as it shows that ol' Bill (who once ran for governor of Wisconsin, incidentally) had genuine potential as a filmmaker.

Blood (Andy Milligan, 1973)

Dr. Lawrence Orlofski (Allan Berendt) and his wife Regina (Hope Stansbury), fresh from Budapest, move into a house in 19th century America along with their servants - legless Orlando (Prizzi's Honor's Michael Fischetti), addled Carlotta (Pichulina Hempi), and Carrie (Patti Gaul), who is beginning to experience leg problems similar to those that afflicted Orlando before he lost his own. Regina needs blood to survive, so Lawrence and the servants give her injections of extract from blood-drinking plants they grow. Regina believes her husband and Carrie are having an affair, though Carrie is actually in love with Orlando. Meanwhile, Lawrence discovers his late father's lawyer Carl Root (John Wallowitch) is swindling him out of his inheritance, and tries to get what's rightfully his with the help of Root's pretty secretary Prudence Towers (Pamela Adams), with whom he forms a strong attraction. As it turns out, Lawrence and Regina both have dark secrets, and infamous fathers...

Blood is the fourth Andy Milligan film I've watched, and the second I've reviewed here, and in many ways it's typical Milligan, which is all for the better as far as I'm concerned. Andy's penchant for melodrama is on full display here, with many of the actors chewing the scenery and reading truly overwrought lines. When Lawrence and Regina are in bed, Regina goes from telling her husband she loves him to saying just the opposite when he refuses to make love to her. When she tells him to go to Hell, he replies, "We're already there!" The blood-eating plants are an odd touch, and it's never explained exactly why just injecting the blood itself into Regina's veins wouldn't do the job as well. Carlotta's brother Johnny (David Bevans, whose character is miscredited as "Jimmy") has a very anachronistic haircut. Milligan's house on northern Staten Island, used as the Orlofski house, is too nice to be truly eerie. Eve Crosby turns in a memorable performance as Petra, a strange-looking, thick-accented gypsy woman with a connection to Lawrence's father. John Wallowitch sports bluish hair, probably as the result of a bad dye job. Milligan's affinity for classic literature and film is shown by the revelations about the identities of the Orlofskis' respective fathers, although considering Lawrence's father originally appeared in a film made in 1941 and set in the present day, one has to wonder how he can be dead a few years after 1875. Even so, this is Milligan at his finest, and well worth your time.

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.

Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (George Barry, 1977)

An Artist (played by Dave Marsh, voiced by Patrick Spence-Thomas, and based on his artwork, meant to be Aubrey Beardsley), is trapped behind his own painting in a cellar where also dwells a bed in which a couple have sex. The bed actually eats them, along with their meal of a bucket of chicken, two apples, and a bottle of wine. Later, Diane (Demene Hall), her friend Sharon (Rosa Luxemburg), and her coworker Suzan (Julie Ritter) come to stay for a while. The bed eats Suzan, stripping her to the bone, as well as two gangsters using the house as a hideout. The Artist reveals that the house has been eating people for decades, as well as its origins: a demon fell in love with a mortal woman, and assumed mortal form. To seduce his object of desire he created the bed, but she died during their lovemaking, and her bloody tears cursed the bed, making it alive and ever hungry. Will Diane and Sharon be the bed's next meals before Sharon's brother (Rusty Russ), looking for his wayward sister, can find them?

Without a doubt, Death Bed: The Bed That Eats is the best movie you will ever see about a man-eating bed. I'm only half-joking, as I found this film delightfully bizarre. Director George Barry reportedly based it on a dream he once had, which explains the rather surreal tone of the film. It's a damn shame he never made another film, because this is a masterpiece of the oddball. Filming at the Gar Wood Mansion on Keel Wood in Detroit began in 1972, and the answer print was struck in 1977, but the film was not released except in bootlegs until Barry learned of the film's cult following via the Internet and gave it an official DVD release in 2003. Comedian Patton Oswalt incorporated a bit about the film into his stand-up film Werewolves and Lollipops. The bed's bubbling innards are shown many times, and it bleeds whenever Sharon is nearby. The inclusion of Aubrey Beardsley of all people only adds to the surrealism.

The history of the bed is pretty hilarious, with a Reverend who seems more confused then horrified about the bed eating him (and who can blame him, really?) and an old woman reading a porno mag whose cover promises "ORAL LESBIANS!!!" There's some female nudity, but none of it is erotically-filmed, particularly as two of the three women who get nekkid also get eaten. The acting, music, and gore fx are adequate (Rusty Russ has a surprisingly calm reaction to having his hands stripped to the bone), but it's the tone of this film and its nonsensical script that make it so much fun to watch. Death Bed: The Bed That Eats is a trash-film lover's delight, and I will certainly watch it again one of these days! For those of you with an Amazon account who want to see it for the first time, just click this here link.

Frankenstein (J. Searle Dawley, 1910)

Victor Frankenstein (Augustus Phillips) leaves his fiancee Elizabeth (Mary Fuller, star of the first film serial, What Happened to Mary) to attend college, where he experiments in bringing the dead back to life. Unfortunately, the product of his research proves to be a gruesome monster (Charles Ogle), who he rejects. On Victor and Elizabeth's wedding night, the monster makes his untimely return, seeking revenge...

This will probably be the shortest review I've done to date, partly because it's the first that's of a short film. Produced by Edison Studios, this was the first of hundreds of adaptations of Mary Shelley's iconic novel, but it's not a very faithful adaptation. Victor creates his monster through what looks like alchemy rather than true science, and flesh seems to just appear on the skeleton of the soon-to-be monster (who doesn't look nearly as cool as the image above seems to imply). Whereas the Monster of Shelley's novel murders everybody Victor loves (his younger brother, his father, and his best friend), culminating with the death of Elizabeth on their wedding night, and Victor then pursues his creation around the globe, dying the process, here Frankenstein chases the monster away before he can kill Elizabeth. The Monster then just...looks into a mirror and disappears, though his reflection lingers a bit longer, and Victor and Elizabeth get to live happily ever after. Considering how the book makes such a point of Victor being the true monster for rejecting his creation and denying it any kind of compassion whatsoever, this will probably piss off fans of the original tale. It did me. The Monster itself has none of the pathos of Shelley's (or rather Victor's creation), so amazingly captured by Rory Kinnear in the late lamented television series Penny Dreadful.

This film was considered lost for several decades, but a fan bought a copy in the '70s, and released it on DVD in the early 2000s. A restored version came out in 2010. I don't know if the restored version is the one I watched on Amazon Prime, but if so, holy shit they didn't do a very good job. Having seen the restored Metropolis on the big screen at the Gene Siskel Film Center, which added to my existing love for that film a thousandfold, the picture quality on this print is just pitiful. I've seen plenty of Frankenstein movies. I love James Whale's, of course, even though it's even less faithful to the novel than this is. Young Frankenstein is without a doubt Mel Brooks' masterpiece. And I've also seen a lot of trashy or weird takes on the legend, such as William A. Levey's Blackenstein, Paul Morrissey's Flesh for Frankenstein, Dick Randall's Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks, and Jerry Warren's Frankenstein Island. This film is nowhere near the excellency of the former two films, nor the curiosity value of the latter four. It just kinda is, and I wanted more from the first film version of one of the most adapted books of all time. On the other hand, at least Edison didn't rip off Nikola Tesla or electrocute an elephant in the course of making it, so credit where it's due.

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.

Count Dracula's Great Love (El gran amor del conde Drácula; Javier Aguirre, 1973)

Imre Polvi (Victor Barrera, billed as "Vic Winner"), his lover Marlene (Ingrid Garbo, no relation to Greta), and her friends Senta (Two Undercover Angels' Rosanna Yanni), Karen (Haydée Politoff), and Elke (Cria Cuervos' Mirta Miller) are traveling through the Borgo Pass when their coach loses a wheel and the driver is killed by one of his own horses. They seek help at the mansion of Dr. Wendell Marlow (Paul Naschy, born Jacinto Molina Alvarez, who played werewolf Waldemar Daninsky in a long-running series of Spanish horror films), which was formerly a sanatorium run by Dr. Kargos, who was hanged for draining his patients' blood. The girls, checking out the library, discover a book written by Dr. Von (sic) Helsing that says Dracula returned after he and Jonathan Harker killed him, and he needs the blood of a virgin to bring his daughter Rodna back to life. Meanwhile, Marlene falls victim to a vampire, and bites Imre in turn. Karen forms an emotional connection with Dr. Marlow, who is hiding a bloody secret...

Count Dracula's Great Love is a pretty mediocre film, but in a "so bad it's good" way. While the women are all gorgeous and many of them bare all, the plot is pretty thin. Drac apparently can't keep his servants in line, as many of them rebel and force him to kill them. Senta's description of Naschy (who like Lon Chaney in the arguably-misnamed Son of Dracula, transitions from playing a werewolf in a series of films to a standalone turn as the Lord of the Vampires) as "handsome" is being generous, and even Karen doesn't get the appeal at first. Of course, there's lots of fake redder-than-red blood. The dubbing is hilarious. Dialogue and lip movements are not synced at all, many of the Transylvanian peasants have Southern accents, and there are memorable lines like, "You'd sleep with a broom if it wore pants!" Curiously, Imre says Count Dracula is the descendant of the historical Prince, whereas Stoker makes it pretty clear they're the same person. There are some cool visual effects, such as a dream sequence of Dracula biting a female victim shot in photo-negative. Of course, the film wouldn't be complete without Dracula having sex while we see a mirror with the reflection showing only his inamorata. The Daninsky films are more fun, but this is a enjoyable way to pass an hour and twenty-two minutes.

The Body Beneath (Andy Milligan, 1970)

A woman in Highgate Cemetery on Hampstead Heath is attacked by three green-skinned women. Soon after, Graham Ford (The Pink Panther's Colin Gordon) is visited by his distant cousin the Rev. Alexander Algernon Ford (Tootsie's Gavin Reed) and his silent wife Alicia (Susan Heard). The two have recently moved to Carfax Abbey near Highgate, and invite Graham and his wife Anna to dinner. The Reverend also tells Graham the Ford family has existed since 98 B.C. Anna (Real Life's Susan Clark), who as it turns out is the woman at the cemetery, comes home. Meanwhile, Susan Ford (Jackie Skarvellis) tells her boyfriend Paul Donati (Richmond Ross) she is pregnant, and the two talk about getting married. Apparently, Susan will also be visiting the Reverend and his wife. Meanwhile (again), Candace Ford (Emma Jones) receives a bouquet of flowers. One of the green-skinned women whispers to her maid. The bouquet has a razor blade in it, on which Candace cuts herself, drawing blood. Susan shows up early at Carfax Abbey, where the Reverend is pleased to learn of her engagement and that Paul is of "strong blood." Susan passes out from drugged sherry, and is later offered food by the hunchbacked servant Spool (Berwick Kaler), whom she tries to convince to help her escape. However, she learns a horrible truth: for centuries, the Fords have been vampires. The family's blood has become diluted in the past hundred years by inbreeding, but Susan's unborn child may be the solution to their problem...

Andy Milligan is a fascinating example of a cult filmmaker. Also a playwright, he did films in both the U.S. and the U.K. Reportedly possessed of a violent temper, Milligan was also openly gay, and died of AIDS in 1990. Of the three films I've seen by Milligan to date, The Body Beneath is by far the most well-made. Milligan's literary inclinations are on full display -- sharp-eared viewers will recognize that Carfax Abbey was Dracula's home in England in Beam Stoker's novel, while the real Highgate Cemetery was the basis for Stoker's fictional Kingstead Cemetery. The performances run the gamut. Gavin Reed is a ham, but not in a bad way. Berwick Kaler makes the viewer feel for what would ordinarily be a stock hunchbacked assistant, sorrowfully recounting how his stepbrother pushed him in front of a moving bus. Shortly before that, we learn he likes pudding, which I'm sure many viewers can identify with. The Fords' vampirism is interesting. The Reverend and Alicia get their blood by transfusion, but the other members of the family seem to go in for the traditional neck-biting. Of course, horror movies about ancient horribly inbred families are nothing new; Jack Hill's Spider Baby is one of the best. The ending is surprisingly arty and well-shot for Milligan, as the Fords, flamboyantly attired, get together for their big conference. The Rev wants to relocate the family to America, home of "pimps, prostitutes, drug dealers, degenerates, the scum of the Earth!" Hey, if the shoe fits...

If you have Amazon Prime, you can check out the film there. And if you're still not decided, check out 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.

Demons (Lamberto Bava, 1985)

A young woman named Cheryl (Natasha Hovey) is walking through a train station in Berlin where a silent man in a metal half-mask (assistant director and future director of genre fare such as The Church and Cemetery Man Michele Soavi) is handing out free tickets to a film showing at the Metropol Theater. Cheryl asks this Man in Black for an extra ticket for her friend Kathy (A Cat in the Brain's Paola Cozzo). Neither girl has heard of the Metropol, but they go to the film anyway. Other viewers include George (Urbano Barberini, Tarl Cabot in the film versions of John Norman's Gor books) and Ken (Karl Zinny of Bava's Delirium), with whom the two hit it off immediately; Tony (Flight from Paradise's Bobby Rhodes), a black pimp accompanied by his employees Rosemary (Geretta Geretta) and Carmen (Fabiola Toledo of Bava's A Blade in the Dark); Tommy (Guido Baldi) and his girlfriend Hannah (Fiore Argento, eldest daughter of co-screenwriter and producer Dario Argento); and blind man Werner (Ladyhawke's Alex Serra) and his daughter Liz (Sally Day). Rosemary tries on a mask on display in the lobby, which leaves a scratch on her cheek. The film plays: it features a group of young people discovering the tomb of Nostradamus, which contains nothing but a book in Latin and a mask. One of the characters tries on the mask, which scratches him just like Rosemary. True to the prophecy in Nostradamus' book, the mask turns the character into a demon, and mayhem ensues. In the real world, Rosemary discovers her wound is bleeding again and heads to the bathroom, but turns into a hideous, green bile-spewing demon herself. Soon, the filmgoers discover fiction has become horrifying reality.


Lamberto Bava may not have been a brilliant filmmaker on the level of his father Mario, the master of Gothic horror, but he did have genuine talent, and of the three films of his I've seen to date, this would have to be the best, and indeed it's Lamberto's favorite of his own films. The story by Bava, the legendary Dario Argento, Dardano Sacchetti (writer or co-writer of such masterpieces as the elder Bava's A Bay of Blood and Fulci's The Beyond), and Franco Ferrini (Once Upon a Time in America and Argento's Phenomena) is surprisingly meta (including fakeout end credits!), and thankfully no explanation is given for why the demons of the movie are real other than Werner's claim the theater is cursed. The gore FX by Angelo Mattei and makeup by Sergio Stivaletti are impressive indeed. The characters are not particularly well-developed, but still entertaining, especially the foul-mouthed Tony, who takes charge of the theatergoers in their escape attempts. Unfortunately, he is not as lucky (relatively speaking) as Ken Foree's Peter Washington in Dawn of the Dead. The idea of a blind man going to the movies is pretty hilarious (according to the film's trivia page on IMDB, deliberately so), but since Werner's daughter Liz is there for a romantic tryst, it makes a certain amount of sense. Sadly, Werner suffers an ironic fate. Surprisingly, redheaded usherette Ingrid (Nicoletta Elmi of Argento's Deep Red) at first seems mysterious and sinister, but ultimately turns out to be an innocent victim herself, something not acknowledged. There are some hilarious scenes with a quartet of punks who steal a Ferrari and snort coke through a straw in a can of Coke and stumble upon the theater, which contains posters for Argento's Four Flies on Grey Velvet Werner Herzog's Nosferatu the Vampyre, and Fritz Lang's Metropolis. Look out for a cameo at the end by young Giovanni Frezza, who genre fans will know best as Bob in Fulci's The House by the Cemetery. The soundtrack is utterly '80s: besides excellent work by Claudio Simonetti, it also boasts work by Rick Springfield (this would be my second favorite film with a scene where characters snort coke while listening to his music, the first being Boogie Nights), Mötley Crüe, Pretty Minds, Go West, the Adventures, Billy Idol ("White Wedding"!!!), Accept, and Saxon. A sequel by Bava followed in 1986, and as so often happens in Italian genre cinema a number of unrelated horror films were touted as sequels in other countries. Stivaletti said in 2016 he, Bava, and Argento were talking about a 3-D remake, but two years later there seems to be no forward progress. No worries; this version would be hard to top for sheer fun.

Zombie (Zombi 2; Lucio Fulci, 1979)

A seemingly empty boat appears in New York City's harbor. A patrol boat comes out to investigate, and one of the patrolmen is killed by a deformed zombie, who is killed in turn by his partner. The boat belongs to the father of Anne Bowles (Anthropophagus' Tisa Farrow, daughter of Maureen O'Sullivan and sister of Mia Farrow), whom the police question about what happened. At the morgue, the dead harbor patrolman begins to awaken. Reporter Peter West (Zombie Holocaust's Ian McCulloch) is told to cover the story by his editor. Sneaking aboard the boat to investigate, Anne runs into Peter, who did the same. After discovering a letter from Anne's father, they manage to escape from the credulous guard watching the boat by pretending they came aboard to have sex. The letter reveals that the elder Bowles was one of the victims of a plague on the Caribbean island of Matool. On the island, Dr. David Menard (Deadlier Than the Male's Richard Johnson), who is treating the zombie plague, argues with his wife (Keoma's Olga Karlatos). A native named Lucas (Ator, the Fighting Eagle's Dakar, born Alejandro Barrera) tells Menard, the other natives believe the zombies are being created by voodoo, but the doctor, a scientist and rationalist, is skeptical. Meanwhile, Mrs. Menard falls victim to the living dead. Arriving in the Caribbean, Peter and Anne hitch a ride to Matool aboard a boat owned by two vacationing fellow Americans, Brian Hull (Al Cliver) and Susan Barrett (Auretta Gay). Susan nearly falls victim to a shark while scubaing, but it instead is killed by an underwater zombie, though not before damaging the boat. Arriving on Matul and calling for help with signal flares, they are greeted by Menard, who reveals Anne's father is dead, having fallen victim to the plague. Like many others, Menard killed him once again by shooting him in the head when he started to revive. Menard asks the visitors to check on his wife. When they arrive, they find zombies in the midst of a hearty meal...

Zombie, or Zombi 2 to use its original title, was ostensibly a sequel to George Romero's masterpiece Dawn of the Dead, which was released in Italy under the title Zombi. However, as is often the case with Italian films marketed as "sequels" to existing films, Italian or American, there is no actual relationship between the two. In Dawn of the Dead, the dead returning to life is never explained. In Zombie, it's heavily implied to be as a result of a voodoo ritual. Indeed, Fulci's zombies are an interesting blend of the flesh-eating contagious variety created by Romero and imitated by countless filmmakers, authors, artists, and television writers, with the more traditional undead of voodoo lore. Even so, Fulci does manage to bring something new to the table. It's hard not to love zombies vs. sharks, and Fulci even throws a few conquistador zombies into the mix. The gore FX and makeup are topnotch, and it's easy to see why this became one of Britain's infamous "video nasties." Olga Karlatos receives a pre-death injury that will likely make viewers wince, while the zombies are even more rotted then Romero's. Karlatos does have a shower scene right before the zombie attack, and Auretta Gay wears an extremely tight thong and no top during her scuba scenes, reflecting the Italians' much-debated blending of sex and violence. Fabio Frizzi's music includes electronica and calypso-style pieces. Of all the Italian zombie films I've seen (and I've seen plenty), this may very well be the best!

The Mansion of Madness (Juan López Moctezuma, 1973)

Gaston LeBlanc (10 to Midnight's Arthur Hansel) is a reporter in 19th century France who is writing a story about Dr. Maillard's sanitarium. He has an an in through his friend Julien Couvier (Pickpocket's Martin LaSalle), who is friends with the doctor. Their coach is intercepted by armed guards in period clothing. A female relative of Couvier's accompanying them falls ill, and Couvier asks Gaston to go on alone. Gaston meets Dr. Mallard (frequent Buñuel actor Claudio Brook), who gives his inmates free rein. Maillard introduces Gaston to his lovely daughter, Eugénie (Ellen Sherman, whose few other acting credits include an episode of Three's Company). Soon, Gaston realizes that Maillard is even more mad than his patients, while Couvier, Blanche, and their strongman coach driver are captured by the inmates.

This is only the second film I've seen by Juan López Moctezuma, the first being Alucarda, but based on these two films, he's a horror auteur, no two ways about it. A producer on Fando and Lis and an associate producer on El Topo, his fans include Guillermo del Toro. This tale of the inmates literally taking over the asylum is bizarre and disturbing, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Claudio Brook (who played a dual role in Alucarda as a rationalist doctor and a satyrlike gypsy Satanist) gives an incredible performance, at times urbane and charming and at others bellowing and cackling. Arthur Hansel convincingly portrays Gaston's horror at what is going on inside the asylum. Moctezuma fills the film with grotesques, such as the aptly-named Mr. Chicken, a dungeon inmate named Dante who hangs from chains in a pose evoking the Crucifixion and quotes his namesake, and a "priest" in red robes and a horned hood, who work on machines whose stated purposes make no sense whatsoever. Claudio even uses the famous quote associated with Aleister Crowley (but originally written by Rabelais), "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law." Martin LaSalle provides some amusing comic relief. Ellen Sherman does a bizarre dance routine and monologue (supposedly Javanese in origin). There are interesting camera angles, echoing voices, and a Peckinpahesque shooting. I loved this film, and I will now make a point of reading its inspiration, Edgar Allan Poe's "The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether." So head on over to Amazon Prime (which has it under the alternate title Dr. Tarr's Torture Dungeon) and check out this sublimely deranged piece of cinema!

Spasmo (Umberto Lenzi, 1974)

Christian Bauman (Nights and Loves of Don Juan's Robert Hoffmann), the brother of industrialist Fritz (Shock's Ivan Rassimov), and his ladyfriend Xenia (The Arena's Maria Pia Conte) find a seemingly dead woman lying on the beach. The woman, Barbara (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage's Suzy Kendall), turns out to be very much alive, but soon flees, leaving behind a thermos with the word "Tucania" on it. Christian tracks Barbara to the Tucania, a docked boat owned by Alex (Three Tough Guys' Mario Erpichini), a wealthy man who is madly in love with her. Christian and Barbara drive to a motel to have sex, but Barbara asks Christian to shave off his beard first. While Christian is in the bathroom, a gun-wielding man named Tatum (Shaft in Africa's Adolfo Lastretti) comes in through the window. A struggle ensues, and Christian shoots Tatum. Barbara takes Christian back to Alex, who offers him passage to safety in Monte Carlo, but Christian realizes he left his gold chain back at the motel, and goes back to get it. When he arrives, Tatum is gone, meaning he either survived or an accomplice removed his corpse. Christian and Barbara hide out at the home of a friend of the latter's who collects birds of prey, both living and dead and stuffed and mounted. Someone cuts the power. The couple meet Malcolm (8 1/2's Guido Alberti) and his daughter Clorinda (Shoot First, Die Later's Monica Monet), who claim to be renting the house from Barbara's friend. Christian recognizes Clorinda from some past incident. Why does Christian find himself in this situation, and what is the significance of the scantily-clad female mannequins that keep appearing hanging from trees?

Spasmo is the sixth film I've seen by legendary Italian filmmaker Umberto Lenzi, most infamous for Cannibal Ferox. I can say without a doubt this is my favorite Lenzi film so far, and a topnotch giallo. The performances are all excellent, particularly that of the lovely Kendall, whom mainstream audiences will probably know best as Sidney Poitier's fellow teacher and potential love interest in To Sir, with Love. Virtually everyone has a secret they're hiding from everyone else, and the plot, as so often is the case in the genre, is pretty complicated. The zoom shots so beloved in Italian genre cinema are on full display, and there are some cool POV tracking shots. The birds and the mannequins add a touch of eerieness to the film, though I was surprised and a little disappointed there were no "death by bird" scenes. Soundtrack god Ennio Morricone's work is magnificent as always. The ending is nicely creepy, with Rassimov conveying plenty while saying nothing. Lenzi and gialli fans won't want to miss this one!

Shriek of the Mutilated (Michael Findlay, 1974)

Dr. Ernest Prell (Alan Brock) takes his student Keith Henshaw (Michael Harris) to a restaurant, where they are served an exotic dish called gin sung. Prell is organizing a field trip to investigate yeti sightings. Meanwhile, other students of his are throwing a party, which we know is swingin' because there's a popcorn maker. A former student, Spencer Ste. Claire (Tom Graile), drinks heavily and talks about Prell's last yeti-hunting expedition, of which the two were the only survivors. On returning home, Ste. Claire argues with his wife and stabs her with an electric carving knife, then crawls into the bathtub fully clothed with a can of beer. The dying April (Luci Brandt) throws the toaster into the tub, electrocuting her husband. Prell, Keith, Keith's girlfriend Karen Hunter (Bloodsucking Freaks' Jennifer Stock), Tom Nash (Invasion of the Blood Farmers' Jack Neubeck), and Lynn Kelly (Darcy Brown), take a van to Boot Island, where Prell's friend Dr. Karl Werner (Tawm Ellis) lives. Werner recently encountered the yeti. He also has a mute Indian (as in Native American) servant named Laughing Crow (Ivan Agar). Gin sung is served for dinner once again. First Tom, and then Lynn fall victim to the yeti, and ultimately Keith learns the truth about the beast and just what gin sung is...

The phrase "so bad, it's good" has been used to describe a lot of movies, and it fits Shriek of the Mutilated to a T. Most of the performances are awful, not surprising since most of the cast had no other credits before or since. Tom Graile and Jennifer Stock in particular overact like mad. The yeti's presence is accompanied by a heartbeat sound effect, which I have to think was a tired cliche even in the '70s. The fashions are hideous, especially Darcy Brown's enormous glasses. Despite a yeti being core to the plot, there's no snow in the film. A flashback to Werner's encounter with the yeti is supposed to take place at night, but is clearly shot in broad daylight. Tom sings a crappy song about the creature. April Ste. Claire manages to electrocute her hubby via an unplugged toaster in the bathtub. Ivan Agar is one of the least convincing white guys playing Native Americans of all time. The jaw-dropping ending reveals that the film is part of a different horror subgenre then we thought it was, and gives us some ethnic stereotyping while we're at it. The last shot and line were probably meant to be creepy, but are more likely to make the viewer laugh his or her ass off. But then, what else can one expect from sleaze legend Michael Findlay, who along with his wife and partner Roberta made Snuff, a film which raised controversy because an actress' actual death was supposedly filmed, even though the scene in question is blatantly fake, with the actress allegedly being disembowled played by a different (and differently dressed!) one then we've seen in the film prior to that point? Connoisseurs of trash cinema, do not miss this film!

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.

Shock (Schock; Mario Bava, 1977)

Dora Baldini (Daria Nicolodi, best known for her appearances in the films of Dario Argento, which led to an 11-year relationship that resulted in their daughter, actress and filmmaker Asia Argento, who recently has been in the news as one of the women who have accused Harvey Weinstein of sexual assault), her second husband Bruno (John Steiner, who appeared with Nicolodi in Argento's Tenebre), and her young son Marco (David Colin Jr.) move into the house where Dora used to live with her first husband Carlo, a drug addict who committed suicide and Marco's father. Marco begins acting out, frequently going down into the cobwebbed cellar, tearing up a pair of his mother's underwear, and cutting his stepfather's image out of a picture of Bruno and Dora. To make matters worse, Dora, who was treated by Dr. Aldo Spidini (Man from Deep River's Ivan Rassimov) for a nervous breakdown after Carlo's death, begins noticing strange things happening in the house. Some appear to be hallucinations, while others are harder to write off. Bruno, frequently away from home in his capacity as an airline pilot, is not much help. Finally,  Dora becomes convinced Marco is under the influence of Carlo's spirit.

It's hard to think of an Italian filmmaker who made a wider range of great films than Mario Bava. From gialli (Blood and Black Lace) to Gothic horror (Black Sunday) to anthologies (Black Sabbath, from which the iconic metal band took its name) to crime thrillers (Rabid Dogs) to comic book adaptations (Danger: Diabolik, which this Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan considers the best movie they ever riffed, and therefore a poor choice for the otherwise-entertaining last episode of the show's original run). Shock was Bava's last film, three years before his death, and he was reportedly not happy with it. It probably didn't help that the American distributors changed the title to Beyond the Door II, despite being unrelated to Ovidio G. Assonitis' and Robert Barrett's 1974 tale of demonic possession apart from David Colin Jr.'s presence in both films. Such a practice was not uncommon in overseas releases of Italian cinema, as shown by the number of Spaghetti Westerns that were retitled and marketed as Django or Sartana or Trinity pictures in order to cash in on the prestige of the more successful examples of the genre. While it is true that this film is not up to the level of the ones listed above, it's still quite enjoyable. Nicolodi turns in a typically excellent performance, chewing the scenery with aplomb in the latter half of the film as she begins to unravel. Steiner plays the concerned but skeptical husband well. Colin may, like many child actors in horror films (see Bob in Lucio Fulci's The House by the Cemetery, which like this film was co-written by Dardano Sacchetti) be the victim of bad dubbing. The cinematography by Alberto Spagnoli and an uncredited Bava is very effective, managing to somehow make a Slinky going down a flight of stairs genuinely creepy. Walter Rizzati's score includes playful childlike tunes and piano and electronic bits. The cellar contains a secret that was likely inspired by Poe's "The Black Cat." Bava had no reason to be ashamed of this more than respectable capper to a brilliant career.