Classy Dames Do Fear 😱

 

Classy Dames Do Fear

By Kristin Battestella

These elegant ladies face mid-century murder, psychedelic mayhem, and medieval mysteries in this quartet of retro frights.

Cult of the Damned – Rich houses, antiques, elite splendor, and denial about one's father in the shower with another man and mother Jennifer Jones (Ruby Gentry) doing stag films open this 1969 AIP release also called Angel Angel Down We Go. The delusions escalate as daughter Holly Near (The Magical Garden of Stanley Sweetheart) feels fat and ugly compared to her not so perfect parents. Slit wrists intercut with guillotines, ironic music, and pop graffiti reflect our Angel's warped state of mind. Stage-like settings and twofer scenes reiterate the dysfunctional relationships mixing both oedipal and Electra favoritism, jealously, and violence. The top billed, soft focused Jones always has bare shoulders or sheer, glamorous frocks, pill popping yet graceful compared to her chaotic daughter, and her coming out party is really for them to show off how they have given her everything – save for the love and kindness she desires. They wonder who would want her save for her inheritance, but heady singers and tight leather pants lead to leopard print seduction, pillows, furs, and a goofy sex scene with Roddy McDowell (Planet of the Apes), singer Lou Rawls, and a pregnant girl dressed as pilgrim. Implied abuses, Angel's being taken advantage of brainwashing, kidnappings, and escalating gang violence are played humorously, and the parody of the times coming within those times gets lost in some of the put on groovy dialogue. Social commentaries on American Imperialism and palatial lifestyles collide with bloody pop art and fatal skydiving as the band moves in on our nasty parents. After all, making enough money through any means to buy class and erase who you were is an American rite of passage. Though certainly watchable thanks to the bizarre nonsensical; the random, joking style is not as shocking as it thinks it is. Colorful dancing and cool tunes with mean lyrics jar between solemn camera confessionals. The haze becomes boring and overlong thanks to the short lived highs and meaninglessness of it all. Such disturbia would have been better had the torment been played straight, but I don't really get a lot of the acid trip here – unless Angel died at the start and this was all just a final fever dream.

The Fourth Victim – Quaint English manors and swanky interiors lead to poolside perils, shady housekeepers, and handy death certificates in this international 1971 mystery. The body discovered is freshly clothed before phoning the authorities, and Scotland Yard is curious about pricey insurance policies, autopsies, and previously deceased wives with faulty brakes and suspect falls. Our nonchalant husband is unbothered by court inquiries thanks to the loyal housekeeper feigning tawdry melodramatics on the witness stand, and even the inspector admires him for getting rich off getting rid of three wives and now he can't be tried again. Carroll Baker (The Big Country), however, has been swimming in his pool. She claims to not read the papers nor care about his infamy, portraits of the deceased, or mementos in the attic. Her white bathing suit and neighborly carefree disrupts his strange, unfeeling calm, but her gothic home next door is dilapidated, spooky, and imposing to match the twists, eerie lookalikes, and ambiguous mysteries. More time is spent on the trial then their whirlwind wedding, but the bliss wears off fast thanks to his heavy handed accusations and her snooping. Now she wonders what he really did do to his last wife, yet their waxing on death and the courage to kill amid casual shopping trips and falling in love confessions show that our couple is actually a lot alike. Despite the emotional entanglements, fatal history, and institution connections; the characterizations are uneven with important players and pesky humor dropped. The overlong, stilted, askew male focus is dominated by unnecessary coming and going scenes with dated, over the top musical interludes. Thankfully, car chases and atmospheric flashbacks begat the unexpected in the final act as the maybe maybe not escalates with taut character interplay.

Sudden Fear – Frenetic notes contrast the sweeping melodic crescendos and Broadway billboards as successful playwright Joan Crawford (Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?) marries struggling young actor Jack Palance (Dan Curtis' Dracula) in the 1952 noir thriller. Of course we know Palance is up to no good, and our all business Myra exercises the casting approval for her play. She doesn't think he has the power to make the women in the audience squirm, but they meet again on the train to San Francisco – playing poker, wining, dining, and lighting each other's cigarettes. Cross coverage angles, up close shots, and sitting side by side visuals parallel the coming together traveling as holding hands leads to dancing, romantic strolls through the Redwoods, and Golden Gate vistas. Bling, furs, frocks, chandeliers, and classic cars accent the wealthy home complete with a custom dictating machine, hidden microphones, and master switches to record all her play compositions. The declarations of love on the staircase, hilltop honeymoon, and white robes create a play within a play romance while mirrors reflect the change in control. Our concerned Lester doesn't want Myra racing down the perilous steps to the dock, however marshmallow Gloria Grahame (In A Lonely Place) is not what she seems thanks to secret meetings, blackmail, and long cons. Again visuals layer the silk pajamas and key to her apartment innuendo, but head over heels Myra redoes her will with Lester as beneficiary. The dictation playback forces us to pay attention as the Oscar nominated Crawford hears the pillow talk and duplicitous plotting – a crushing performance with tragic tears and crippling shock as the stuck needle repeats the threats. Everything has gone up a notch yet the betrayal remains personal with shattering breaks, looking over her shoulder hysteria, and double locking the doors. The echoes haunt Myra into the bedroom as she postulates what car accident or smothering might befall her. Now she has to be the actress, claiming a headache or too much champagne and refusing Lester's offered sleeping pill. Lying awake with the black and white shadows and ticking clocks escalates to forged signatures, break ins, and poison. Sophisticated tension rises with every cocktail, change of plans, and slight of hand amid scandalous stockings, falls down the stairs, and in camera attention to detail. The scheduled actions happen down to the minute with gunshots and kill or be killed overlays that don't underestimate the viewer. Intense zooms focus on the tormented faces while pearl watches keep time and white gloves hide all the secrets. Silence and phone ring rings are used to maximum advantage with beads of sweat, perilous close calls, and the fright of seeing one in the mirror holding a gun. Our desperate dame is out of her element in a no win situation. Bad people are supposed to get what they deserve and Myra must remain good despite chases, spotlights, lookalike ladies, and rear view mirrors culminating in noir perfection.

An Elizabeth Taylor Bonus

Doctor Faustus – Producer Richard Burton (The Robe) co-directs this 1968 play presentation based on the medieval Marlowe's pact with Lucifer, however the stifling script, flowery soliloquies, and dry over acting hamper the excellent bones, candles, cobwebs, and sixteenth century mood. Learned science is so close to superstition and alchemy, and our dissatisfied scholar resorts to Latin rituals, ominous tomes, maggots, and necromancy. Red cloaks, orange firelight, purple sorcery, blue catacombs, green stones, and black wings invoke the hellish historical meets silent Expressionism. Zooms, in and out of focus mirages, and tense camerawork highlight moving statues and magical skulls speaking back to Faustus as he boasts of his bargains with the devil, undeterred in signing in blood thanks to his youthful transformation. Unfortunately, Burton does his best Orson Welles self-indulgence here, paralleling the tale by biting off more than he can chew when not imaging the supple Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra) as Helen of Troy for his perfect, silent woman. The thee thou bloated text and Burton talking to himself voiceovers are unnecessarily scholarly compared to the cinematic, medieval visuals – making the piece seem much longer and more complicated than it is. There is no sounding board character and the language should have been trimmed, for it's not the Oxford University's Acting Company's provocative questions but Burton's over the top windblown me me me that's tepid and detached. Actor turned professor Andreas Teuber as Mephistopheles is far more haunting as the tormented fallen pained at losing eternal bliss, for hell is limitless with no boundaries to its sins. Slow motion, back flipping nymphs and imagined battlefield glory are a little long, however it's fitting that Faustus doesn't realize he is a mere, foolish, mortal man. The hedonistic kaleidoscope parade of lechery provides surreal haze without being trashy, and Burton's best poetry and passion come in the embraces with Taylor. He debates the emperor over his conjuring, mocks the court, and scoffs at the pope as humor and sing songs turn into freaky hoods, screams, and damnation. Who is Faustus to argue with evil? No matter how many times he stops to ogle Taylor's dripping allure, Faustus ends up looking upon himself in the grave, ultimately getting the celestial comeuppance he deserves. The redemption versus selling one's soul parables make for fine horror, deception, and choices – not to mention Elizabeth Taylor in sensual gold lipstick and glowing silver body paint.

Top Ten: Dracula!

 

Welcome to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I Think, Therefore I Review's Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

This time I Think, Therefore I Review presents in chronological order...

Our Top Ten Dracula Appearances!

Nosferatu

Dracula (1931)

Dracula (1931 Spanish Version)

Horror of Dracula

Dan Curtis' Dracula

Count Dracula (1977)

Dracula (1979)

Bram Stoker's Dracula

Dracula 2000

Dracula (2013 series)

 

Enjoy our vampire label or Horror page for even more!

 

I Think, Therefore I Review began as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously reviewed at I Think, Therefore I Review. 

 

Just Vamps V!

Just Vamps V!

By Kristin Battestella

Indulge your cravings with this batch of elusive or obscure, foreign, and somewhat rare but mostly bloody good vampire pictures from decades yore.

Blood and Roses – Mel Ferrer (Falcon Crest) leads this 1960 French/Italian Carmilla influenced production brimming with lovely outdoor locations and lookalike relatives mixing romance and Karnstein history. Though the currently gathered descendants scoff at vampire myths and stories of peasants taking stakes into their own hands centuries ago; familiar names, 500 year old Mircalla voiceovers, and a costume party in a ruined abbey add period piece mood to the modern suits, fifties frocks, and swanky cocktails for a slightly baroque blend. While not as lavish as the later Hammer pictures, this is indeed colorful thanks to quality titular motifs, white wedding dresses, and red fireworks. Peppering creepy words accent the smoke, crosses, tombs, heartbeats, and vampire spirits ready to possess anew. Mirrors, screams, and zooms make for some suspenseful moments – unseen vampire deceptions escalate over the discovery of bodies with neck wounds. However, there is a symbolic sensuality, implied saucy, and very Bava-esque pretty in the surreal, black and white dream sequence winking with water, sanitariums, naked mannequins, and nurses with bloody hands. It's a bittersweet, medieval feeling with all kinds of lesbian vampire shade, blonde versus brunette rivalries, and so close you want to be her Single White Female innuendo. Director Roger Vadim (Barbarella) certainly liked his statuesque blondes, and there are fine personality changes for his then wife Annette Stroyberg (also of Vadim's Les Liaisons dangereuses) as the bewitching, possessed Carmilla – she's minuet dancing, can't work the record player, and horses misbehave around her. Elsa Martinelli (Hatari!) is also divine in several portrait like stills paralleling Carmilla's feminine desire to be loved as much as her necessity for blood. Different edited or longer versions effect the plot here, but the dubbed 74 minute edition is currently available on Amazon Prime. While it won't be scary for modern audiences, this sophisticated and creepy but no less tender tale is impressive and worth seeing.

The Blood Drinkers – The full screen print of this dubbed 1966 Filipino production is somewhat flat, but the unique, cost cutting color schemes create a bizarre design of lavender and blue tints, red spotlights, and a silent film style patina. Smoke, funerary, capes, and crypts accent the time capsule East Indies architecture and style in an old world meets mid century macabre feeling. While the narration may seem dated or unnecessary now, the voiceover details the unique vampire myths and heart rituals assuring an undead return – thus helping in translation when the unpolished production values become confusing. The slightly annoying sci fi buzzing and hokey bat effects aren't too big a bother over the hour and a half, and hunchback servants, rapacious blood attacks, suggested nude victims, and predatory penetration create retro Gothic horror violence, twisted love, past scandals, and vampire pain. Evil old ladies, vampire brides, and eerie relatives coming back from the dead add to the open graves, parish assistance, religious relics, and an almost medieval Christian iconography. The action is well paced alongside rival suitors, vampire persuasions, and cemetery sieges, too. Sure, this is cheap and sappy at times, but the alternate Blood is the Color of Night title perhaps better represents the jealous vamp vixens, moral twists, and other now familiar vampire motifs – not to mention there's a fiery mob and chase finale!

Dan Curtis' Dracula – After a perpetual Netflix save only, I finally found the uncensored version of this 1973 telemovie produced and directed by the eponymous Dark Shadows creator on Hulu. Once billed as Bram Stoker's Dracula, the historical Tepes connections and reincarnated romance also found in Coppola's 1992 edition seem to have their impetus here alongside more than a whiff of Dark Shadows in Robert Cobert's score. Wolf howls and carriages accent the outdoor filming, 1897 village, and European locations – leading to a creepy Borgo Pass and monstrous vampire brides for solicitor Harker. Though heavy on the seventies zooms, ominous epistles and past portraits build suspense before quick Demeter action, Victorian trains, and the idyllic English coast. With only Arthur Holmwood and no Renfield, writer Richard Matheson (The Twilight Zone) swiftly moves to Lucy sleepwalking, Dr. Van Helsing, garlic, blood, and stakings. Wolves are in this parlor with the spilling tea and fainting ladies! The big Civil War era gowns are earlier than truer turn of the century bustles, and though pretty, the English transition restarts the atmosphere, delaying away from Dracula. Despite Eastern European roots, Jack Palance (City Slickers) doesn't need any velcome talk thanks to his already deep, robust voice, and his chilling delivery of the familiar book lines adds to his suave facade. We know Dracula's lost love motivations, but thanks to Palance's hissing, rough desperation, the Count isn't too sympathetic. Whitby, Carfax, bites, crosses, boxes of earth – the investigation of such horrors escalates into a full on Transylvania pursuit. At times however, this does feel like a big budget Dark Shadows with the wrong cast of characters. It's not scary today and seems too derivative of other Dracula movies – perhaps because until recently, this version was somewhat sequestered while we watched all the others. Fortunately, the story moves fast, with superfluous players and book events excised for a straightforward Stoker summation. I'm glad this kind of Victorian Gothic is coming back into vogue, and the abbreviated plot, eerie atmosphere, and fine performances here are a great introduction to the genre.

Your Call!

The Vampire's Ghost – Writer Leigh Brackett (The Big Sleep) adapted this hour long 1945 black and white tale loosely from the Polidori source, however an unfortunate narration warning of a dark land of voodoo and jungle evils sets the scene with stereotypical forties film racism. Cliché tribal drums, primitive English speaketh, and a witch cult village are apparently worse than a restless 400-year-old vampire prowler because this superstitious, medieval tomfoolery is interfering with native worker output on the big white man's plantation. It's uncomfortable to see such subservient mentalities, for locals aren't allowed to solve their own village vampire problem and must follow the mistaken white doctor or minister – who's entire dialogue consists of Hayes Code souls and redemption shoehorn. Some may argue the dance scene is unnecessary as well, but Adele Mara (Wake of the Red Witch) is lovely and it is a good dance! Is the suave, sunglasses wearing, bar owner John Abbott (The Woman in White) our vampire? Of course he happens to have the same name as one of his Spanish Armada ancestors! There are some unique pieces of undead lore here, such as small boxes of home soil under the pillow and restorative moonlight properties. Though short and fast moving, seedy gambling scenes and barroom brawl action are also fun alongside would-be sympathetic vampire revelations. The villainy is good, as are the shadows, suspense, hypnosis, and seductive kills with dames caught in the middle. However, the mirrors, safari style, and weird innuendos are more bemusing than scary. The potential for a fun little hour is here, but it is tough to overlook the racist plot points when it feels like half the picture and most of the actual vampness are unfortunately absent.

Mirrors and Mindbending Horror

Mirrors and Mindbenders!

By Kristin Battestella

What do we see when we watch horror? Take a bizarre look into the deceptive reflections, dopplegangers, demetia, and through the looking glass scares with this quartet of old time crazies and more recent optical thrillers. 
 

Alone in the Dark – A cult cast featuring veteran Jack Palance (City Slickers), minister Martin Landau (Mission: Impossible), unusual doctor Donald Pleasence (Halloween), and his new protege Dwight Schultz (The A-Team) adds class to this 1982 slasher full of topsy turvy patients. The solemn mental hospital locale is pretty but cluttered with knickknacks, loons, and converted with buzzed entries, faulty electrical systems, and bizarre treatments. Medical textbooks don't apply in this ward! This perilous crowding contrasts the new, open, family farmhouse potential, which soon finds itself in a fearful switcharoo. Who's a patient or employee? Who's harmless or dangerous? Some crazy rambling is confusing to start, but shadowed dorm rooms with spooky, whispered plotting create a paranoid atmosphere – especially when such heavyweight gents are doing the evil planning. A touch of hot pink sideways pony tails and punk bands remind us of the early eighties hip, but any datedness is quickly forgotten as violence, escapes, and riots escalate during the titular blackout. The crazy inside spreads outside quickly with one flick of the switch, and flashlights, lanterns, candles, and fire sell the precarious mood. Daylight doesn't alleviate the killer tendencies or child peril, and except for a fittingly sardonic little girl, the frightful is played seriously. While some jump scares and teen sex may seem commonplace now, these early genre staples are well paced and plenty of surprises, siege horror, creative weapons, and simmering kills make up any difference. Not only is there no cheap nudity or excess like today, but progressive talk about the pitfalls of wind power and nuclear energy add to the social commentaries at work. The fragile balance of polite society cracks pretty quickly once the kill or be killed terror flourishes here.

Mirror Mirror – Ironic country music and frightful orchestration accent the bloody period introduction of this 1990 teen creeper. Yes, that’s a generic title complete with a barebones DVD and no subtitles, but the spooky mix of antiques, hats, and shoulder pads make for a gothic mid century meets eighties style. Like dentistry, the innately eerie mirror aspects pack on the macabre along with blue lighting, distorted demonic voices, gruesome dreams, and bugs laying on the atmosphere. The 30-year-old looking teens in too much denim are mostly tolerable thanks to relatable new kid in town outsider feelings and feminine spins. Rainbow Harvest (Old Enough) is perhaps too wannabe Lydia from Beetlejuice and there is no sign of authority or investigation whatsoever, but the dark tone, a bemusing Yvonne De Carlo (The Munsters) handling the research, and the neurotic Karen Black (Burnt Offerings) make up any difference. This is a solid R, but the blood, nudity, water frights, and dog harm are done smartly without being excessive. The familiar Carrie, Teen Witch, and The Craft designs will be obvious to horror viewers, but it’s a fun 90 minutes of out of touch parents and teachers, high school cliques, and escalating creepy crimes. The titular evil from the other side takes hold for a wild finish – but never, ever put your hand down that garbage disposal, ever!

Oculus – Family scares, guns, and glowing eyes creepy get right to it as siblings are trying to both remember and forget their past tragedy in this 2013 mindbender full of askew dreams, unreliable memories, statues covered in sheets, and one cursed antique mirror. I would have preferred leads older than their early twenties – clearly appealing to the young it crowd – and despite an understandable awkward or instability, Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) and Brenton Thwaites (Gods of Egypt) are too wooden at times. Fortunately, the more mature Katee Sackoff (Battlestar Galatica) and Rory Cochrane (Empire Records) and child support Annalise Basso (The Red Road) and Garrett Ryan (Dark House) do better. The non-linear past and present retelling, however, is confusing – the parallel plots aren't quite clear until the paranormal investigation brings everything together in one location with elaborate equipment, carefully orchestrated timers, and fail safes for a night of ghostly activity. The video documentation makes for smart exposition at the expense of a larger cast or showing the accursed historical events – replacing the tried and true research montage for today's audiences without resorting to the found footage gimmick. There are no in your face camera effects or zooms with booming music when the frightful appears, and the viewer is allowed to speculate on the seen or unseen reflections, there or maybe not whispering, and distorted blink and you miss them doppelgangers. Is there a psychological explanation or is this all supernatural? Although the recollections or flashbacks of the crisscrossing events should have been more polished – are we watching two, four, or six people as this battle replays itself? – the paranoia builds in both time frames with canine trauma and alternating suspense. Yes, there are Insidious similarities, the product placement and brand name dropping feels unnecessary, and the uneven plot merge cheats in its reflection on the warped or evil influences at work. The finale falters slightly as well, however, there is a quality discussion about the titular manipulation, and the time here remains entertaining as household horrors intensify. WWE Studios, who knew?

The Psychic – There are numerous titles – but no subtitles – for this 1977 Lucio Fulci (Zombi 2) giallo tale along with a typical driving montage, dated seventies euro pop, and the expected dubbing, accents, and vocal iffy. Fortunately, the graphic opening suicide, great looking cars, classic planes, country estates, hats, furs, and eponymous witnessing more than make up for any audio technicalities. Then upscale technology, radio, tape recorders, and answering machines add to the sophisticated style and Italian flair while a simmering, eerie score sets off the paranormal visions. Swift editing intercutting between the fearful Jennifer O'Neill (Summer of '42) and the fragmented imagery is layered with red, blood, violence, and screams, but her husband, doctors, and police remain skeptical even as evidence is found. Are these episodes stress, dreams, coincidence, obsession, or intuition? Our young wife plans on redoing an abandoned villa, but finds more secrets about the victims and the living amid the cobwebs, covered furniture, and mirrors. Has something occurred here or will it? Who is suspect? The Italian names may be tough for some, and the slightly obvious, tame for today story plays loose with terms like physic, clairvoyant, premonition, and what these powers actually are. There are convenient, self fulfilling prophecy plot points, too – secretaries who happen to know the facts, others do the legwork research, taxi driver connections are easily found. However, it's interesting to see that images and memories can be distorted, foretold objects misconstrued, or that the facts don't always come together as we thought. Although the heavy opening implies the 90 minutes plus will be full on horror house gore, the time is largely spent on the mystery investigation before punching it up with some shock moments in a superb action finale. Not everything here is as the audience may expect, and plenty of clues and surprises make for a nice little paranormal pursuit.

Mid Century Mystery and Thrillers!

Mid Century Mysteries, Macabre, and Mayhem

By Kristin Battestella

From big sci-fi horrors and mental scares to quiet Victorian fair and murder, classic film stars of the fifties and sixties knew how to spot these quality, good, old-fashioned, noir-infused mysteries and thrillers. 

The Hitch-Hiker – Actress turned director and co-writer Ida Lupino (High Sierra, Outrage) sets the bar with this ominous, black and white 70 minute road trip noir from 1953. From the foreboding “this could be you” opening warning and the faceless what you don’t see start to public paranoia and international investigations hot in pursuit, William Talman (Perry Mason), Edmond O’Brien (The Barefoot Contessa), and Frank Lovejoy (House of Wax) keep the suspense heavy. Everything from getting gas to stopping for groceries becomes intense here!  Ominous scoring, period music, stylized shadows and light, and Spanish flavors accent the peril while cool cars, gunplay, and desert locales keep this carjacking dangerous. The vehicular footage is anxious too thanks to nice interior filming and claustrophobic camerawork. Speedy roadwork and more close calls keep the viewer wondering when and how this all comes to a head. Though the end is a little rushed, the tension is entertaining in getting there. Sure, some may find the early fifties look dated, but this one feels quite modern actually, with desperation and intensity to spare. 

Invasion of the Body Snatchers – Kevin McCarthy (Death of a Salesman), Dana Wynter (D-Day the Sixth of June), and Carolyn Jones (The Addams Family) star in this 1956 science fiction fright fest full of interpretive allegories, scary great scoring, precious little special effects, and a simply stunning mood. Director Don Siegel (Dirty Harry) and author Jack Finney’s visions are tamed a touch thanks to the flashback frame, but the slow build of askew and helplessness creates the perfect mix of noir and what you don’t see paranoia. Where would you go and what would you do if alien pod people invaded your town? The natural fears escalate into desperation as friends and neighbors become the people you can’t trust. Nothing around you is what it seems, the clock is ticking, and there is nowhere to turn. Crooked camera views and angled perspectives accentuate the simplistic, seemingly innocent events as they turn into a frenzied chase, mass hysteria, and can’t fall asleep panic. The whiff of love story and focus on humanity before the science fiction and effects works surprisingly well against the erratic loss of emotion threatening our couple, too. Despite the sweet frocks, cool cars, classy drinking, and those slide across bucket seats, the fifties trappings may be too over the top for some of today’s viewers accustomed to more stylized variations on the theme. The 1978 remake is for those audiences, but this original remains a must see, taught thriller from start to finish. 

Man in the Attic – Jack Palance (Shane, City Slickers, and most importantly, Ripley’s Believe it or Not) stars in this black and white 1953 remake based upon the oft-adapted Jack the Ripper novel The Lodger by Marie Belloc Lowndes. While the fifties meets Victorian Ripper colloquialisms and trite accents are tough to start the 82 minutes, period fashions and décor add to the old world mystery atmosphere. The young and handsome Palance is, of course, slick as always – he looks slightly fifties in his suave suit, but not so American as to be unbelievable  in the role. Although we suspect him of Ripper relations just because he’s Jack Palance, to his credit, his nicely odd, antisocial, awkward, and wound up tenant Slade plays against our sinister expectations. The criminal pace, police investigations, and suspicions, however, mount accordingly with a tense score to match. Sadly, the Can Can and French style musical scenes are too dated, small scale, out of place, and simply not as interesting as the titular implications, and this gives the scenes away from Palance a slightly unpolished feeling. Thankfully, the clarified, easy to follow, step-by-step Ripper plot is well done – good screams, smart uses of shadows and light, and off screen killings lead into a pursuit finish for this nice little atmospheric thriller. 

The Phantom Fiend – Then again, this 1932 hour long talkie with Ivor Novello – star of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1927 silent version, too – is also from same Lowndes source and still worth a look. The print quality is poor and the fast, tough to hear dialogue can be confusing, yet it’s neat to see those classic phone operators, newspaper headlines, tilted hats, furs, and period dressings adding to the crimes. Though seemingly charming, there is something creepy and suspicion afoot as the body count rises for a screaming finish. And did I mention there’s a 1944 adaptation just called The Lodger as well? Whew!

Please Murder Me – This 1956 black and white 75-minute noir starring future television crime solvers Angela Lansbury (Murder She Wrote) and Raymond Burr (Perry Mason) mixes guns, affairs, and bribery. The courtroom doubts and debates up the ante, too, and for love or money motives accentuate the crimes. Though stylized shadows and dark, up close photography add to the mood and suspense, the picture is too dark in some spots. The more telling than showing start is also a little slow, but great one on one scenes with fun soap opera drama and dialogue keep up the tension in all the right places. Lightning, hefty scoring, and black cats are tossed in for good measure as the titular actions hit, too. Some of the deduction and legalese may be too simplistic for today’s trial savvy audiences, yet other unforeseen twists and the novelty of seeing the stars in such early performances more than makes up the difference.

The Psychopath – I caught this 1966 Amicus toy creeper and murder mystery from director Freddie Francis (Evil of Frankenstein) and writer Robert Bloch (Psycho) late one night on Turner Classic Movies, and the sinister little dolls at the scenes of the crimes are very effective. Likewise, Inspector Patrick Wymark (The Plane Makers, The Power Game) is affable in his deduction – even if the investigation techniques are perhaps straightforward or obvious compared to the intricate plots tempting today’s criminology wise viewer. There’s a fine, international feeling to the intriguing suspects as well. Each has interesting accents, quirky vibes, snotty airs, suspicions, motives, and secrets. Nutty old lady Margaret Johnston (Portrait of Clare) adds to the macabre with her creepy doll collection, and the old school Victorian feelings and décor accent the then-contemporary classy, swanky sixties looks. There’s room for humor, too, thanks to the sardonic autopsies on the doll victims, and a hint of skin and sauce balances the suspenseful killings. The eerie sounds, music, and silence keep the pace steady for the full 83 minutes as the crimes escalate towards a memorable topper. Sure, there’s a plot hole or two, but there’s also room for some guesses, twists, and good old-fashioned mystery. 

More Classic Spring Horror

More Old School Horror Mayhem!

By Kristin Battestella

Let the Spring roar in as we travel back in time and celebrate with more scares, monsters, and freaky of yesteryear!

Circus of Fear – The production values for this 1966 AIP thriller do look old, with a lot of darkness, very poor video quality, and weird sound that can certainly lead to some onscreen action confusion.  The near silent opening heist is also slow to get things underway for a 90-minute movie. Once the crimes begin, however, John Moxey’s (City of the Dead) little tale is not bad at all.  Some of the dudes are a bit of the same old hepcats, but it’s great to hear Christopher Lee (Have you not been to my blog before to learn the greatness that is Sir Christopher?) before we truly see him.  Of course, it’s easy to think he’s the killer thanks to his booming, lion taming statured self, but…  Leo Genn (Quo Vadis) is a slick investigator, too. The smart build from the seemingly standard action to the titular delights crisscrosses with fun circus and animal footage.  Unseen throwing knives, quick visuals, and first person perspective murders heighten this pleasant backdoor build of suspense.  Sure, it’s not really horror, but if you aren’t expecting all out scares, this becomes a surprising, intelligent, worth a look mystery.

The Revenge of Frankenstein – Finally, finally I’ve got my hands on this 1958 Hammer sequel!  Now called ‘Victor Stein of the Switzerland branch’, Peter Cushing (I see your lack of Sir Christopher and raise you a Grand Moff Tarkin!) is once again delightfully ruthless in his delivery and actions- and looking fine while at it, too. A 19^th century doctor with ladies packing into his waiting room, hmm… He seems so reformed to start, helping the poor and suffering patients- but we should know better! Cushing’s wicked suave villainy trumps all the inconsistencies in this series.  Despite director Terence Fisher’s (helmer of all except Evil of Frankenstein) best efforts, at this point, I don’t even think it matters what order you watch Hammer’s Frankenstein films. Fortunately, the stylized gore and expected Victorian flavor make up for any errors- even if the tone is more English than Continental.  The laboratory is sweet, and the bodily transformation for the hunchbacked Karl (Oscar Quintak and Michael Gwynn) tells a lovely story. Frankenstein’s just misguided, isn’t he? This new body is a good thing, right? Unfortunately, the extremes for science are just too murderous for the brain to handle, and the scares, shocks, and freaky deformities are perfection.

Sisters (1973) – Margot Kidder (Superman) is very convincing as twins in this AIP parallel act from director Brian DePalma (Carrie).  Though one wonders about Kidder’s French accent and forced Quebec angles, the New York time capsule is a treat. Ferry rides, a very young World Trade Center, and a great Bernard Hermann (Psycho) score accent the nostalgic styles and black and white uses. Old TV game show sounds, show within a show productions, and newsroom footage create space for voyeuristic ideologies, within within perceptions, and mind’s eye theories.  Intercutting and split screens build tension towards jump in your seat moments, and there’s cool fake seventies blood.  It’s not chick horror per se, but imperfect ladies duking it out conflicts the audience. Do we favor Kidder or Jennifer Salt’s (Soap) nosy but on to something reporter? Honestly, it’s just neat to see some hoofing it research instead of an internet montage! Barnard Hughes (The Lost Boys) and Charles Durning (Tootsie) are fun support, as is Salt’s real life mom Mary Davenport as her pesky onscreen mother who doesn’t understand this working woman thing.  There are dated and stereotypical racial tensions in the plot that I don’t want to spoil, too. Lisle Wilson (That’s My Mama) is actually identified by the other characters as ‘the colored guy’ after he wins a game show prize for ‘dinner at The African Room’.  Yeah, even wrapped in a fun, sexy opening and brief nudity, it still feels iffy for today.  The twin sciences might also be wrong now or just inappropriate, along with the crazy people scares, wacky nut house doctors, and brainwashing fears of the mentally ill.  I figured out the twists early, but this is still a treat in getting there.

Torture Garden – Director Freddie Francis (The Evil of Frankenstein, hehe) and writer Robert Bloch (Psycho) team up for this 1967 Amicus anthology of forewarning evils.  Even though these 92 minutes are small scale with very dated, on the cheap décor; it’s still dang spooky, with a solid, demented carnival vibe. You wish your Halloween set ups were quality enough to attract a wonderfully insistent, Penguin on acid Burgess Meredith!  Though the dialogue is tough to hear, the unusual filmmaking angles and real English locations are great.  The sinister music and black cats in the Twilight Zone-esque First Tale ‘Enoch’ are sweet, too. These tales are solid, involved stories, and Tale 2 ‘Terror over Hollywood’ is sexy without the flash and nasty of today.  ‘Mr. Steinway’ adds Barbara Ewing (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave) and a disturbingly good classical score for Story 3- although twisted similarities to Psycho run throughout the show. Freaky Clytie Jessop (The Innocents) also moves between each tale, but the framing story is somewhat weak, with disproportionate story lengths and a rushed, even confusing conclusion.  Oscar winner Jack Palance’s (City Slickers, Shane) mustache is perfectly sinister, but strange to say, his part here seems like a would be poor man’s Christopher Lee.  Thankfully, always-classy pimp Peter Cushing is excellently creepy for the ‘The Man Who Collected Poe’ Tale 4 finale.   

Meow!

Summer Split Decisions

Summer Split Decisions

By Kristin Battestella

Some films you love without a doubt after numerous viewings.  Other shows you can’t get past the first fifteen minutes.  Unfortunately, what’s a viewer to do when torn between a movie’s good and ills?  Here are a few films both young and old on which I simply can’t decide!

The Bone Collector – Only Denzel Washington (Glory, Training Day) could deliver so fine a performance from a hospital bed.  The wonderful supporting cast- including Ed O’Neill (Married with Children), Queen Latifah (Chicago), and Luis Guzman (Carlito’s Way) - is great.  The spooky and grisly crimes from Jeffery Deaver’s source novel are intense.  Director Philip Noyce’s (Patriot Games) claustrophobic and dark camera angles juxtapose perfectly with the neat, upscale, and high tech remote technology.  Now then, I like Angelina Jolie (Girl Interrupted, Tomb Raider) I really do, especially in some of her earlier work such as this- but I don’t like her here.  She does well as a protégé cop with something to prove, but it’s as if Angie and Denzel are in too different movies.  Both have talent indeed, and they might even have chemistry should they work together again, but the pair is just too flat here.  You have to watch this one twice-once for the Denzel angle, and once for the Jolie feel. 

Highlander: Endgame – It’s the stuff of a Highlander fan’s dream: Connor MacLeod and Duncan MacLeod in one movie!  Despite the alternate establishments in the 92-98 television series, 2000’s Endgame has a decent enough storyline and plot to keep things plausible-unlike the useless 2007 sequel Highlander: The Source.  Bruce Payne (Passenger 57) and his villains are cool enough, main chick Lisa Barbusica (Bridget Jones’ Diary) is likeable, and of course, our immortals Christopher Lambert (Mortal Kombat) and Adrian Paul (Tracker) are wonderful.  However, something just isn’t right with Endgame.  I want to like it, honestly I do; but some of the more complex, multipart storylines of the series are better.  It also seems like no matter how hard they try- especially with alternate versions and special DVD cuts- all these movie sequels just aren’t as good as the original.  Completists will eat this one up, but casual fans are better off with the 1986 debut film or the series.  As it turns out, Connor and Duncan together is too good to be true.  After all, ‘There can be only one!’

The Legend of Hell House – Many consider this 1973 haunt fest a serious horror classic.  No doubt about it, the scares, kinky innuendo, terrifying house, psycho psychics, and ghostly dynamics are all here in fine form.  The filming and music is of its time yet still creepily shocking and askew today-maybe more so thanks to the now period looking styles.  Roddy McDowall (Planet of the Apes), Pamela Franklin (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie), Clive Revill (Avanti!), and Gayle Hunnicutt (Dallas) are gothic perfection, too. Unfortunately, the weak, too tame and simply dumb ending here undoes all of author Richard Matheson’s legwork- it just isn’t as juicy as his source novel.  Of course, if made today, there would be so much sex, gore, twists, turns, and herky jerky bad camera work that no concept or story would make it in the film.  I know, I know, beggars can’t be choosers.

Public Enemies (2009) – I love Depression era music, movies, and styles; and once upon a time, I really liked Christian Bale.  Ergo then, one would assume I’d be in heaven with this gangster flick starring Bale (The Dark Knight) as FBI man Melvin Purvis and Johnny Depp (Pirates of the Caribbean) as bad boy John Dillinger.  Unfortunately, I didn’t even make it to the end here.  Halfway thru, I stopped caring if the 45-year-old Depp as 31-year-old Dillinger was misunderstood, and Bale was more boring than badass.  The costumes looked great, and the Chicago scenery was wonderful, but there wasn’t enough period tunes to really set the mood.  Too many liberties are taken, and Channing Tatum (G. I. Joe: Rise of Cobra) as Pretty Boy Floyd is only in Public Enemies for five minutes tops-what the big deal with him anyway?  I do, however, wish there had been more of David Wenham (Lord of the Rings) as Harry Pierpont.  The fine ensemble cast is lost amid the obviousness of Depp and Bale.  Pity. Now, it may be old, low budget, and not have nearly as many stars playing cops and robbers; but I actually prefer the 1996 Public Enemies with Theresa Russell as Ma Barker to this flashy caper.  Okay so Dan Cortese (Veronica’s Closet) is Melvin Purvis in that one.  Bale doesn’t really step it up, here, though, does he?  What’s next, Russell Crowe as Al Capone?

The Screaming Skull – I wanted to like this 1958 creeper, but the only risqué things here are some bullet bras and flimsy nightgowns.  There is an audience for this type of hokey old scare, but this one could have been a lot more serious or scary than the final result.  Instead, we resort to Rebecca imitations and the usual, cliché horror staples with lots of screaming and obvious double twists.  The music is also way too absurd and banshee-like, more like the stylings of a Halloween CD than a score.  Maybe I was just expecting too much?  I’m not surprised Mystery Science Theater 3000 had its hands on this one.

The Silver Chalice – Paul Newman is one of my favorite classic leading men.  I simply adore his staples The Hustler and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as well as some of his smaller pictures like The Young Philadelphians, The Long Hot Summer, and my favorite Hud.  However, one might not know of the longstanding Newman clout that is to come by taking in his debut here.  The semi-biblical production values are similar to other epics of the day, but director Victor Saville (I was a Spy) went for some sort of abstract or stage like designs that just look too SCA or half dressed theatre rehearsal to be a big movie.  The story, delivery, and dialogue also come across as slow and a little too hokey- especially in dealing with the apocryphal magician Simon Magus. The wonderful Jack Palance (Shane, City Slickers) has nothing but ham to do here.  I’m also not a big fan of Virginia Mayo (Captain Horatio Hornblower), having yet to been impressed with her in every show in which I’ve seen her.  Still, I suppose ladies who love the young and pretty Newman can fast forward through the faulty here-even if the man himself disowned this one!  

Twists of Terror – I stumbled upon this 1996 anthology film on cable several times and still can’t decide if I like it or not.  Some of the vignettes are well written, paced and developed fine, and have solid acting from Jennifer Rubin (The Crush) and Nick Mancuso (Mob Stories).  However, the twists come a little too early or are fairly predictable, and the paranoid scenario of crazy host Joseph Ziegler (Black Harbour) introducing us to each tale is just stupid.  For being a saucy cable film, I’d also expect more than the generic sex and gore-but then again, some of the ‘what you don’t see’ is done a-okay.  Am I torn or is this one that bipolar?

When in Rome (2010) – Despite a very likeable cast- including Kristen Bell (Veronica Mars), Jon Heder (Napoleon Dynamite), Anjelica Huston (The Addams Family), and Danny DeVito (Taxi)- I simply found nothing funny in the 2010 romantic European comedy.  Okay, there was one scene when the itty bitty car fit inside an elevator.  That was it!  I wanted to like the titular Italian charms, but the premise just falls too flat, leaving the cast with nothing much to do.  It almost feels as if director Mark Steven Johnson (Daredevil) and writers David Diamond and David Weissman (The Family Man) are knocking off this overdone Judd Apatow wave- but this one is gonna be for chicks! Supposedly the leading man, Josh Duhamel (Las Vegas) also seems like just another dude in the frat crop.  Sigh.

Actually, it seems my distaste for a few of these is more evident than I thought!