Fearful Examinations 😱

 

Fearful Examinations!

by Kristin Battestella

This trio of retro psychological frights need not rely on today's special effects whooshes and in your face designs thanks to focused fears and chilling performances.

Dark Places – Deathbed vows and asylum doctors begat a creepy inherited estate and injuries at the manor in this 1973 haunt. Boarded windows, antique clutter, shabby interiors, and cobwebs add to supposed ghosts, figures in the window, slamming doors, and creaking footsteps. The power of suggest is strong, for suitcases full of cash are allegedly hidden in this house with a murderous past, and doctor Christopher Lee (Horror of Dracula) doesn't want anyone else to beat him to the punch. His alluring sister Joan Collins (Dynasty) offers to be the housekeeper for new heir Robert Hardy (All Creatures Great and Small), too, despite crank calls, broken dolls, falling pictures, and village talk of the bodies never being found. The playroom is layered with thick dust and violent shambles, and the lights going off for total darkness onscreen is simple yet effective. Rather than attempting to pull the wool over the audience, our rivals admit upfront that they are using the disturbing history to scare our new tenant away from the lost loot. However even they get scared by the objects they aren't moving and the bumps in the night they didn't cause – making for a tense little housewarming party with brandy, cigarettes, and stiff upper lip deceptions. Edward shouts at the giggling children's echoes that this is his house now, but his motive is also not pure as he spends the spooky nights knocking on wall panels in search of the missing money. Violent drywall bashing leads to bats sweeping in from the chimney in a well-filmed frenzy while choice zooms accent brief what you thought you saw shocks. Rather than superfluous scares wasting half the movie, the small cast and several key rooms anchor the tension and claustrophobia. Flashbacks to the domineering deceased and his vows to punish his children for their twisted games provide questions on psychic sensitivity, mental instability, possession, or delusion. Pointing fingers distrust, contesting wills, and suggestive siblings collide with ghostly footprints, a supple governess, and a nonchalant pick ax. The visions and supernatural influences even continue outside the house with echoes and slow motion, and we only see the evil children's demented smiles in the finale as the delirium, arguments, anguish, and consequences escalate. Past and present dalliances collide with gunshots, screams, and strangulation. Although I wish there was more of meddling Doctor Lee claiming he is there to help the distressed and the mystery is fairly straightforward for well versed viewers, the deranged performances make for a taut edge. This doesn't go all out with the extremes like today, yet a little lust and plenty of greed go to the scary depths thanks to intimate violence, assorted weapons, and skeleton surprises.

Fright – Miniskirts, Winnebagos, eerie ballads, and a spooky walk through the woods lead perky babysitter Susan George (Straw Dogs) to her charge in this 1971 examination. Nervous new in town mother Honor Blackman (Goldfinger) bolts all the doors, and through the banister or crib rails camera angles and mirrored framing invoke the cluttered, claustrophobic, trapped feeling. The antique laden manor, stained glass, and winding staircase add period mood, and our family admits the home is creepy and musty, joking about the potential for ghosts and subtly setting the jumpy scene. Creaking doors, rattling plumbing, and parental asides wondering if our sitter suspects anything don't bother Amanda – she is learning child welfare psychology and isn't afraid to observe maladjusted case studies. Unfortunately for her, the dripping tap, unexplained noises, hanging laundry, and innocuous boredom escalate to power outages, footsteps, and faces at the window. Up close attention on her eyes and ears reflect her isolation as the baby is put to bed and her horny boyfriend comes calling. He thinks the manse could be the setting for a horror movie, but Amanda doesn't want him to scare her into his arms. Their flirtatious dialogue layers the mirror to nature parallels, for his scaring her is a result of his sexual frustration, which he says is her fault, but Amanda counters that such obsession is not love. The men further belittle the worried women – who are actually correct not irrational or panicking due to the murderous escapee knocking on the door. Screams and gore outside go unheard thanks to the scary movie on the television, and the black and white zombies contrast the colorful, swanky parents night out as the the killer is inadvertently let in and the phone lines are cut. The simmering peril is well paced with tense conversations, car accidents, and police wasting time while the terrorized babysitter is left to placate the psychotic. Ticking clocks, wanting to check in on the baby MacGuffins, and precious few locations within the house create suspense as intercut spins show the white lace, crying, innocent reality versus the dancing, willing woman delusion. Carnival style music mirrors his juvenile, lusty mental state before silence save for her hurried breathing and punctuating screams. Sirens, police standoffs, loudspeakers, and tear gas come too late while our culprit growls, descending into nonsensical shouts and crying like a child. Now the understandably hysterical women must take action against the violent insanity, and the uncomfortable to watch terror makes one wonder how they filmed such anguish. Although there have certainly been numerous babysitter in peril films since, this remains chilling thanks to the horror we don't see suggestions rather than today's everything at the screen, hollow superfluous.

Foreign Horror Bonus

Black Pit of Dr. M – Originally titled Misterios de Ultratumba, this 1959 black and white Mexican picture from director Fernando Mendez (El Vampiro) featuring Abel Salazar (The Witch's Mirror) has no English dub nor subtitles and my Spanish thinking cap is not what it used to be. The lookalike mad scientists, back from the dead doctors, afterlife secrets, seances, and zombies, however, probably don't make much sense even in the best linguistic circumstances! Fortunately, the cobwebs, abandoned gothic abodes, eerie period interiors, and atmospheric crescendos are everything I love about mid-century Mexican Horror Movies. Of course, I've no idea what the violent woman in the madhouse has to do with the doctor's demure daughter; but the coffins, torches, sinister mustaches, and disappearing men in capes match the primitive yet fittingly spooky smoke and mirrors special effects. Excellent gaslight, lanterns, and shadows provide cinematic depth as creepy scenes steeped in catolica mood and forbidden knowledge escalate to violent action, acid in the face, bandages, revolting reflections, gross disfigurements, and screams. Daylight moments at the churchyard remain draped in suspicion while inside out hacienda greenery and foggy courtyard designs capture the moonlit romance and urgente warning notes blown away in the spooky winds. Wispy visions of dancing ladies, white flowers, black veils, and the invisible hand pulling the patron saint from the ingenue's neck invoke effective light versus dark subversiveness. The doors between life and death should remain closed, but lighting over the gallows, hands reaching out from the grave, devilish violins, and turnabout knives let evil enter in with abductions and fiery fates. A three months later gap and short eighty minute runtime make one wonder if something isn't actually missing that would help this nonsensical story, and the lack of translation these days remains surprising. Nonetheless, the gothic tension, silver screen dimension, and midnight movie macabre deliciously prove that horror consequences are universal.

Where are all the Mid-Century Mexican Horror Films?

 

Where Are All the Mid-Century Mexican Horror Films?

By Kristin Battestella

From The Witch's Mirror to The Curse of the Crying Woman and more, I've thoroughly enjoyed the mid-century Mexican horror productions I've seen from the forties, fifties, and sixties. I would wholeheartedly like to see more, but where did all these Mexican horror movies go? Read on for my rant about the frustrating difficulty in finding these quality classic scares.

Why so inaccessible?

Thanks to directors such as Rafael Baledón or the likes of Abel Salazar's filmography, one can filter, search, and find dozens of Mexican horror films on IMDb, Wikipedia, and more. We know they exist, so where are they and why aren't they readily available? Ten or fifteen years ago, a budget DVD set with twenty or fifty so-called horror classics was a get what you pay for way to find a few old horror gems amid the so bad it's good obscure, public domain scares, and cheap VHS quality rips. This was how I first found some Spanish horror delectables. Today however, those sets aren't really viable compared to affordable streaming options. Unfortunately, be it the free horror channels, discount streaming tiers, or the big mainstream options, none of them have any of these films. Back when we had Xfinity and could browse all the thousand channels on the guide including the Spanish cable package, I used to see some great horror films listed on the peliculas de clasicos channels. I'd write down great titles like Museo de Horror, El Beso de Ultratrumbo, La Cabeza Viviente, and more but can't find any of them anywhere. How with today's instant access to everything are these films still so inaccessible?

Cultural Drift is No Excuse!

It takes a lot of digging and research to find these titles, and although it's easy to search with Spanish language filters, that creates its own set of problems. Sure I've been able to find a few Salazar sixties horrors or Mexican movies, but those searches also yield a lot of Paul Naschy pictures from Spain (and searching for his Waldermar werewolf films is another aggravating not all available pursuit). Soon, these lists skew to Spain, European productions, Jesus Franco, Dario Argento, and Mario Bava. Seventies Italian giallo pictures are not what we're looking for, and finding the right version of a film with different releases, run times, and different titles per country only adds more fuel to the frustrating fuego. Sometimes you think you are getting the right movie and it turns out to be something else, or worse a film you've already seen under a different name. I myself am guilty of putting all my Spanish horror viewing lists and recommendations together because it's so tough to find just the Mexican scares. Of course, Spain and Mexico are different cultures with different español and different identities, and it's problematic to presume they are interchangeable. Many years ago I had a vehement argument on an online film forum when a commenter said he wanted a role to be cast with Penélope Cruz or Salma Hayek or “one of those types.” O_o This person could not see why I objected to these actresses being lumped together as one and the same. On a non-horror note, I highly suggest the Maya Exploration Center's Professor Edwin Barnhart's Great Course lectures including Ancient Civilizations of North America, Ancient Mesoamerica Revealed, Lost Worlds of South America, and Exploring the Mayan World to educate oneself on the history of Southwest, Central, and South American communities.

The Classics are Better.

What irritates me most is the perception that because Hollywood or mainstream horror is more prevalent, that means it must be better. In my recent viewings, however, that's been far from the truth. I've enjoyed the majority of independent Australian, New Zealand, Irish, UK horror, and European productions, sure. Canadian pictures, on the other hand, have been more mixed bag. When the festival finds are true to themselves, they've been good – but you can tell the difference when a north of the border production is compromising itself in hopes of an American sale and wide distribution, catering to the formulaic and cliché. I had such high hopes for The Curseof La Llorona. It starts well with colonial Mexican scares so viewers think we're in for some period piece Hammer flair, but sadly the film – written and directed by white men, because of course – degrades into the typical kids in peril with whoosing entities and trite jump scares. Cultural fears are dismissed and protective warnings are treated like Mysticism 101, and the entire time I was waiting for it to end, I had one thought, which was that The Curse of the Crying Woman was better. There's an entire Wikipedia page called “Golden Age of Mexican Cinema” but where are all the films? Netflix if you're lucky has one DVD copy, and when that breaks, it's just saves and unavailables.

It's Frustrating and Offensive.

For viewer looking for quality horror of any kind, it's disturbing how unique storytelling, different cultural scares, and the many horror stories to be told must be bent to serve white mainstream horror. The fact that these films are not widely available almost feels like an intentional burying – the way a great Asian horror film won't see the light of day stateside because the rights were bought up and it is being deliberately suppressed until the rich white blonde jump scare cliché remake is released first. Why aren't these classic, quality films being celebrated? Why are they not freely available to watch at any time? A black and white picture? So what! Spanish subtitles or a bad English dub? Big deal! Is it because they are not in English that white America suspects releasing these films properly won't be profitable enough for them? Well that's just too damn bad because I want to see these films. Do you have an inside source on where to find some classic mid-century Mexican horror movies? ¡Damelo!

Just Vampires, Siete!

Just Vamps, ¡Siete!

By Kristin Battestella

For our seventh vampire viewing list, here's a quartet mixing Old World and new, past and present, feminine frights and demure galore. ¡Ay caramba! 

 

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night – The black and white patina of this 2014 Persian language spooky invokes a specific fifties or spaghetti western mood. Retro cars, big old TVs, and greaser styles are transposed to a modern, mid-century rundown and post-industrial bleak with kids begging on the street, unusual hookers, an old man injecting “medicine” between his toes, and icky drug dealers. Arash is already paying for his father's mistakes and taking guff from the rich – but a deadly vamp with a demonic voice and a belying angelic appearance rolls into town, cleaning up Dodge and making things better for the downtrodden. Fine scoring with carnival music touches and rhythmic, edgy throwbacks contrast the stillness and topsy turvy gender roles, for the fallen pimp, collapsing father figure, and absent mothers have created a vacuum for our eponymous mystery and the dark power hidden under her chador. We know the fangs and deservedly gruesome will happen amid the slow build drama or drug and sex frenzy but not when, leaving brief squishing effects, mild blood splatter, and attacking crescendos to speak for the minimal dialogue. A well-behaved stray cat parallels the titular feline predatory, yet sardonic skateboarding adds humor. Arash dresses up as Dracula, gets some bad ecstasy, and meets the real thing but retains his innocence and kindness among the cruelty – the simplicity of homemade ear piercings is much more charming compared to today's wham bam sex or moon eyes romance. It's an unconventional mix of straight drama and simmering horror, however at times writer and director Ana Lily Amirpour seems unsure which storyline is priority. The quirky vignettes and dialogue are nice while other scenes are pointless and the silence or music does more. This should have been a short feature or a limited series – viewers want to know The Girl better but this picture can't rely on earlier unseen shorts or companion comic books. With 100 minutes to fill here, the structure should have been tighter, perhaps with labeled character chapters and our vamp in both senses of the word connecting them. A sagging middle dampens the impact of critical scenes, and this feels more indie cool than truly foreign film – it's almost faux foreign with no real cultural references. Audiences accustomed to frights a minute will also be disappointed in the handful of horror moments amid the isolated interplay and justifiable girl power. Fortunately, this unusual world gets better as the protagonists go forth. Her bad frees his bad, is that a good or bad thing? There really should be a vampire drama category, and despite its flaws, this unique tale using horror to address social contradictions is worth a look. And there's a Bee Gees poster, people. ¡The Bee Gees!

Kiss of the Damned – This 2013 vampire tale feels much older thanks to a seventies style opening, video stores, Old World names, European accents, retro clothes, and bonus Montgomery Clift movies on the television. Ominous music, moody candlelight, and a bleak seaside house foreshadow the blood spilling to come, and the property comes complete with an un-tempting, blood disorder maid taking phone messages for her mistress – a lonely translator who's never available during the day and indisposed until evening thanks to a “medical condition” where she can't be exposed to sunlight. Wink. Intercut, handicam vamp violence and edgy, intrusive music or over-emphasizing flashes, however, are unnecessary, and melancholy pain with choice pop moments or ironic classical cues do better. Blue lighting, headlights, and golden interiors accent nighttime filming, creating a stylish mature alongside the frank conversations addressing how to chain a girl to the bed. Sexy turned killer teeth, wild eyes, askew angles, and violent thrashing elevate the alluring but dangerous as the heavy petting escalates in spite of the consequences. Reluctant Djuna knows this romance could be doomed, but Paolo wants to get sucked dry at both ends. (¿¡?!) Such erotic yet creepy may be too weird for some, but this realistic vampire relationship is refreshing and fast moving – the vampire turning happens early and the entire picture isn't a dying for love question. More time is taken for the lifestyle details on living forever, heightened senses, and the charming couple that preys together stays together. Problematic sisters and centuries old sibling rivalry parallel the role reversals and too good to be true good vampire behaviors. Biting on the club scene versus love and living posh, sisters forgetting their mother's face, cocktail parties and a close knit vampire community discussing why inferior humans reign and synthetic blood isn't FDA approved – there's just enough gore and blood to recognize the messy brimming beneath the gilded surface. The tense debate on whether they are monsters or not and why they shouldn't self-loath gets better as it goes on with bloody slip ups, saucy conflicts, sunlight perils, and deliberate virgin blood trickery. Although some scoring and editing are rough around the edges and debut writer and director Xan Cassavetes packs a lot of flash early on in the film to lure audiences, the likable cast and fine drama don't need anything else. This would have made a fine long form series, and I'm glad the vampire genre is growing up again with films like this.

The Vampire – With such a confusingly plain title, I had to look up this 1957 Mexican horror El Vampiro starring Abel Salazar and German Rubles to make sure I hadn't already seen it. Fortunately, there's no mistaking the foggy villa courtyards, Gothic Victorian interiors, hypnotic eyes, and fangs afoot here. This original tale gets right to the screams and neck nibbles, and the black and white patina perfectly matches the don't go out after sunset warnings. Even the fake bat doesn't feel hokey amid the fifties train and ingenue in white visiting her sick spinster aunt. The boxes of soil from Hungary, suspicious cape-wearing count, and carriage at the crossroads may seem Stoker-esque to start, however there are some undead surprises – and an older aunt who remains young and reflection-less but thinks all this vampire talk is ridiculous. Torches and tolling bells invoke some medieval funerary alongside crypts, superstitions, and fearful folk crossing themselves. The recently late are buried with crucifix in hand while creepy crescendos accent the phantom ladies in black about the cemetery. Ghostly effects, well-framed shadows, and spooky lighting schemes heighten the ruinous haciendas as well as the suspenseful count and his then-shocking vampire bites – sudden falling books or slamming doors also help build the dangerous mood unlike today's fake out jump scares. Rather than detract from the horror, just the right amount of humor and a whiff of romance accent the fine dialogue – although despite DVD commentaries and a variety of caption or audio options, the English subtitles don't exactly match the español. Secret passages, dusty books, and otherworldly singing provide more flavor for a wild finale combining stakes, sunlight, and fire. To be sure, this toothy little number wins with heaps of atmosphere.

The Vampire's Coffin – Salazar and company returned for this 1958 sequel aka El Ataud del Vampiro, and the two pictures can be found together on the generically named The Vampire Collection set for more howling cemeteries, grave robbers, and disturbed vampire tombs. Of course, it's amazingly easy for two men to remove such heavy headstones and take a giant coffin to the local hospital for a scientific study, but hey, me want that sweet fifties Hearst! Skeletal reflections, giant wooden stakes – the Gothic creepy moves into unexplained science territory but the old fashioned hospital retains a gray, mod feeling with scared kids and a cross above the bed. What can modern medicine do compared to a determined monster? Sharp shadows and dark angles add Expressionism accents while staircases and noir pursuits akin a Val Lewton aesthetic. Although a missing vampire about the ward could be laughable, spooky effects, a dark cape, and hypnotized victims add macabre. There is, however, a lacking finesse here thanks to a busy narrative crowded with swanky theater glamour and gruesome wax museum hideouts. Disbelieving medical directors, ritzy routines, and torture devices are all well and good on their own, but one moody, fully embraced locale would have been better. Convenience and poorly choreographed fights aside, the fun finale packs in plenty of rituals, chases, and guillotines, as you do. Ironically, it feels like pieces of this film are borrowed in more recent cliché horror, and despite a general bloodlessness and try hard approach, bared fangs and la sangre talk keep up the theme.

More Witchy and Demonic Viewings!

Witchy and Demonic Viewings, Two!

By Kristin Battestella

Another night, another quartet of foreign witches, campy cults, musical devils, and a whole lot of sexy, scary panache! 

The Devil Within Her – We know the happiness of having a baby is moot for this 1975 British tale once the hip title music, disturbing medical tools, heady zooming lights, and a writhing Joan Collins (Dynasty) start this 90 minutes off with an arduous delivery. There’s surprisingly little blood and gore considering the amounts shown onscreen then and now – not to mention the reality of a difficult 12 lb birth! – but toss in a baby who will scratch his mother, bite the maid, tear up his own toys or try to drown his nurse and the mood is set! What he does to dad Ralph Bates (Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde), well…hehehehe. I wonder if Adam Sandler’s Little Nicky title came from Collins’ screaming “Nicky! Nicky!” when her devil baby flips out at his christening? Period but pointless London streets and retro cars accent a juicy Caroline Munroe (The Spy Who Loved Me), brief strip club nudity, and a laughably filmed sex scene, but the flashback narration should have been shown instead of told. Most of this so serious is just too hokey and amusing because without special effects for our knife wielding newborn, the child violence scenes have to be bad up close shots or humorous cut away action. An eerie dream sequence is horror fine, but flashes of spurned dwarf George Claydon (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory) as a baby are absurd. Faux Italian accents and superstitious medieval talk are also ridiculous, and the little person portrayals as evil, cursing, freakish, undesirable folk run rampant. A viewer can’t tell if the plot is chastising and blaming the eponymous Lucy for her stripping past and marrying rich or rooting for her as a victim of this monstrous baby. It’s tough to take the intriguing notions of an evil birth or a post partum mother seriously as well thanks to the surprisingly amusing but misogynistic men who think she must be exaggerating the bad baby behavior. This could have been something unseen sinister or all in a mother’s demented state of mind, but awkward scenes debating medicine versus religious magic fill up the time without really discussing any intelligent or scary possibilities. Fortunately, fun performances from doctor Donald Pleasence (Halloween) and nun Eileen Atkins (Cranford) can’t be faulted, and there’s enough bemusement for the audience to see the outlandish through to the inexplicable finale. I mean, lab testing on mice nuns who study animal psychology?! 

Fascination – Writer and director Jean Rollin (The Nude Vampire) uses eerie zooms and haunting camera speeds to provide wonderful turn of the century style and Old World feelings for this 1979 French saucy. Phonographs and period music, ominous sounds, flowing white frocks, frilly lace, feathered hats, graceful mannerisms, candles, decorated interiors, natural visuals, and a great castle locale contrast the morbid slaughter house, vivid red colors, blood, rogue, symbolic lips, scythes, black robes, and blonde/brunette or good girl/bad girl expectations. Talk about a sexy grim reaper! It does help to know your français, sure, but the fine performances and talk of death taking the form of seduction add extra panache and gothic allure even amid any translation discrepancies on the available English subtitles. The laid back mood may be tough for modern American audiences, but the curious characters and simmering atmosphere is soon set with crimes, betrayal, and a siege situation – not to mention how the boobs are out early and often. We’re immediately intrigued in how one man is going to survive being locked in a house with blonde Brigitte Lahaie (I as in Icarus) and brunette Franca Mai (Zig Zag Story), let alone five more cultish women and a blindfold! Though there’s a lot of skin and tender kissing, the saucy scenes may also be a whole lot of nothing for those who are expecting more full on porn. This pretty Victorian via seventies French lesbianism won’t be for everyone but the kinky sucks the viewer in for the disturbingly delightful fashions, sinister switch, and sophisticated chic.

The Mephisto Waltz – Demonic Bond on acid opening credits set the mood for this 1971 simmering satanic thriller along with sweet cars, fancy décor, statues, and of course, creepy uses of the titular Litsz from composer Jerry Goldsmith (The Omen). Although one should probably appreciate classical music before watching, the diabolic orchestration accents the twisted relationships, foreboding zooms, askew angles, and macabre mid century masks. Enough smoke and nudity suggest more while strategic shadows and gauzy glows add dimension to hazy dream sequences. Set off the deadly rituals and eerie funeral with morbid French texts, and it’s easy to root for Jacqueline Bisset (Day for Night) and her understandably suspicious anchor against the decadently posh Curd Jurgens (The Spy Who Loved Me) and Barbara Parkins (Peyton Place). Alan Alda (M*A*S*H), however, is unfortunately too limp in his quest for high art and evil society. He doesn’t show the madness or range needed nor even any maniacal piano playing – he’s plastered for a face cast in one scene and his presence remains the same! Wise viewers or readers of the source novel may expect what happens – there’s an obligatory old-time library research montage, too – but the immoral isn’t always so apparent. Considering its title and subject, perhaps this isn’t as depraved or shocking as other occult pictures of the era, either. Despite some head scratching motivations or plot holes, the scary pacing, freaky drama, and sometimes unexpected turn of events give the audience a few good shocks and mysteries indeed. 

The Witch’s Mirror – Oft spooky actor Abel Salazar (The Curse of the Crying Woman) produced this black and white 1962 Mexican horror treat with Isabela Corona (A Man of Principle) as a creepy housekeeper amid the excellent smoke and mirrors and titular visual effects. From a macabre prologue and illustrations to Victorian mood, candles, and rituals, El Espejo de la Bruja has it all – love triangles, jerky husbands, revenge, betrayals, grave robbing, and ghoulish medicine. The plot is at once standard yet also nonsensical thanks to all the sorcery, implausible surgeries, ghosts, fire, even catalepsy all building in over the top, soap opera-esque twists. The sets are perhaps simplistic or small scale with only interior filming, but this scary, play-like atmosphere is enough thanks to wonderful shadows, gothic décor, and freaky, sinister music. Several language and subtitle options are available along with the feature and commentary on the DVD as well – not that any of the dubbing, subtitles, or original Spanish completely matches. The audio is also messed up in some spots, but the script is fun and full of cultish summonings and medical fantasies. Maybe this one will have too much happening for some viewers, as every horror treatise is thrown at the screen here. However, this is a swift, entertaining 75 minutes nonetheless and it doesn’t let up until the end.

Foreign Horror, Oh Yes!

Classic Foreign Horrors, Oh Yes Indeed!

By Kristin Battestella

 

Of the 900 odd channels we currently have on cable, one of the ones we don’t get is the classic Spanish movies channel, which seems to have some great scary films in its tantalizing grid listings! This conundrum inspired me to search far and wide for intriguing international horrors of old. So let’s get our foreign freaky and frightful on, shall we?

The Brainiac – Oft scary star Abel Salazar leads this black and white Mexican horror and SF combo, but this English title doesn’t fit as well as the original El Baron del Terror – or so it seems. Despite being a bit too telling instead of showing, the 1661 inquisition opening is effective enough thanks to lots of shadows and creepy men in black hooded robes. The picture is a bit dark, too; the sound’s uneven, and there’s bad science on top of poorer science fiction effects. I mean, the comet plot device – used by our titular sorcerer to return in 300 years, just in time for the swanky, swinging sixties – looks like a streak of snot on the camera lens!  There are bad monsters, more simple smoke and mirrors, and the bare bones DVD has no subtitles, but the bemusing dubbing adds to the camp charm. Fun music, updated castle scenery, and low budget but suave mod décor matches the screaming ladies and cranky detectives. Perhaps the one by one ancestral vengeance plot is nothing new, but the sci-fi spins, historical twists, and obligatory deaths are suspenseful and well paced. Smart editing, nice zooms, and a few shocker moments cap off the creepy atmosphere, as well. What is that, pâté? It looks yummy! Perhaps you have to like bad horror and camp fun to appreciate this one, but at only 77 minutes, one can easily enjoy this SF scary amid a fun movie marathon.

The Curse of the Crying Woman – It’s pretty much expected that the dubbed dialogue and English subtitles won’t match in this otherwise eerily effective 1961 Spanish creepier again starring Abel Salazar. It’s also a bit bemusing how the awkward, wooden voiceovers make one sound so casual when mentioning how there’s a maniac on the loose! In addition to the uncanny music, black and white mood, and period stylings, the story and script here are actually well done, if standard – a couple in a scary house with a witchy aunt and all that. It’s also nice to see a twisted woman lead and her hunchback servant instead of the more typical masculine terrors.  From the eyeless chicks, fast cut violence, mauling dogs, zesty camerawork, and sharp zooms to the skeletal effects, creepy webs, derelict lairs, and shocker moments, wow, there’s some quality gothic production here. The opening freaky and weird imagery unravels slowly and remains spooky for the entire 80 minutes thanks to a countdown to midnight, bloody rituals, macabre flashbacks, wicked mirrors, and a destructive, fiery finale. I’m surprised at the lack of information available for this film, as touch of mid century hokey aside, this one has plenty of gothic mood and solid scares.

Fury of the Wolfman – Paul Naschy is Waldemar Daninsky again for the fourth turn in this haphazard Spanish werewolf series, and an opening narration and flashback scenes provide some of the wolf origins here.  More sexy innuendo, whips, chains, and even a yeti add to the car crashes, asylum secrets, affairs, science debates, abominations, mind control, and seemingly evil lesbian internships. Sweet period cars, clothes, candles, and excellent storm sounds help forgive the somewhat simplistic wolf transformation effects and standard dubbing. Some of the were-action is filmed and paced in almost a silent film style, which adds to the demented love and mind drama, but the uneven editing and mixed camera styles unfortunately contribute to some of the science fiction and horror crossover story confusion. Detective and reporter elements are also weak and dated – though it’s nice to see an investigation instead of just killings without consequences in a self-involved bubble. I wish this was a bit more polished, but behind the scenes troubles, a delayed 1972 release, title changes, and edited video prints only add to the frustrating pursuit of this not completely available, free form franchise. It’s a pity as the layered plots and twists here are dang entertaining.

The Man and the Monster – This 1958 macabre musical gets right to it with a crazy good car crash and continues the sinister build, slow reveals, and solid suspense pacing for the whole 78 minutes. Naturally, there are hints of Phantom of the Opera as the pained, eponymous Enrique Rambal maestros the pretty, talented Martha Roth. However, enough twists happen here – including a wicked mother, creepies more ala Psycho, and a unique demonic bargaining for those said musical gifts. In addition to the great piano compositions, frightful, pulsing orchestrations, and opportunities for silence or sparse diegetic sounds, the black and white photography effectively hides any filmmaking flaws whilst heightening the shadowed, hidden ghastly. The then contemporary fifties cars, fedoras, and frocks are mid century cool, yet a moody, gothic atmosphere lingers thanks to overgrown abandoned estates. Yes, Abel Salazar doesn’t have much to do as our good guy businessman and the ensemble is slightly over the top. Some of the piano playing is obvious fakery, and though high end at the time, the monster effects are hokey today. The narration was also unnecessary in the tell-all flashback for the sequence plays out wonderfully on its own. Fortunately, these dated quirks invoke classic silent film styles and keep the regrets taught and wild finale avante garde. Perhaps this one isn’t out and out scary to modern audiences, but it’s still an effective, entertaining little morality tale.  

I must say, it does help to have some knowledge of a particular film’s original language, as the subtitles and dubbing don’t always match. Fortunately, the DVDs almost always have the necessary language options – although I swear it seems Netflix only has one copy of these types of elusive, eclectic videos. I had to wait for each of these for quite some time, and many more I’d like to see have so little information about them or are simply no longer available and may never see the light of digital day. It’s a pity, as I’ve enjoyed the old foreign horror I have seen more than some of this contemporary chiller drivel!

For more commentaries on ye olde foreign language horror films, here’s a list of some global scares already reviewed!

 

Atom Age Vampire

Black Sabbath

The Bloody Judge

The Bloody Vampire

Brotherhood of the Wolf

Crypt of the Vampire

The Horrible Sexy Vampire

House of Shadows

Nightmare Castle

Nosferatu

Spirits of the Dead

Suspiria

Terror Creatures from the Grave

The Vampire Happening

The Vampire’s Night Orgy

Vampyr

Werewolf Hunter

The Werewolf vs the Vampire Woman

The Witches Mountain