Re: *** Official 9th Annual HTF October Scary Movie Challenge
10/02/08:
ROBOT MONSTER (Phil Tucker, 1953) BOMB
To begin with, I’d only been vaguely aware of this stinker before reading Michael Elliott’s recent comments here; in fact, it’s considered today as second only to PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE (1959) in the ‘all-time worst movie’ stakes – and with good reason, too! There are a couple of lengthy (excessively so, if you ask me) reviews on it on the Internet which go into every minute goof to be found in the film; I’ve hurriedly perused them and, while I laughed as I read, I don’t remember doing so when I was actually watching! That may have been because my viewing of it came fourth in a row and late in the day but, perhaps, I just don’t enjoy bad movies as much as I should or think I do (I can picture Mike and Joe Karlosi nodding in agreement here…for once)!
The premise – of an alien as a gorilla in a diving helmet with antennae – is certainly hilarious as are the godawful reams of ‘pretentious’ dialogue, topped by the animated routine the aliens go into with every word they utter (bringing to mind the Power Rangers or an old Japanese TV series I used to lap up as a kid, MEGALOMAN [1979]!). The film is only 63 minutes long (albeit broken up by an Intermission Card necessitated by the 3-D effects, as had also been the case with the recently-viewed GORILLA AT LARGE [1954]) but I’d swear that half of it is footage of the earthbound alien Ro-Man just making his way through the desert! The Hu-mans – 4, 5 or 8 of them – depending on Ro-Man’s current “view-screen auditor”(!) calculations, are, predictably, a scientist’s family with eager resourceful kid, annoying little sister and teenage sister who falls for her father’s hunky assistant (and whose queasy love scene is as low as the film gets!).
One noteworthy – but, frankly, unbelievable – aspect about ROBOT MONSTER is that director Phil Tucker is reported to have attempted suicide following the film’s critical trashing (was this even truly deigned of a review?); he did make a few other efforts regardless which included directing pre-fame pal Lenny Bruce as a gangster in DANCE HALL RACKET (1953) and another ‘promising’ monster movie, THE CAPE CANAVERAL MONSTERS (1960). The ultra-childish script was penned by someone bearing the awkward-sounding name of Wyott Ordung!; for the record, I have another one of his works, TARGET EARTH (1954; which I purchased via VCI’s SE DVD) slated for this Halloween marathon…and I’m keeping my fingers crossed now! Elmer Bernstein(!) provides a delirious, piano-led score; thankfully, he would soon hit the big league with his influential jazz score for Otto Preminger’s THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN ARM (1955) and put this shameful assignment behind him for good (though he still had to endure that other immortal-sounding camp-classic CAT-WOMEN OF THE MOON [1953]…which, like ROBOT MOSNTER itself, might well have been shown on Bravo Cable TV channel when films of this ilk were a daily occurrence)!
10/04/08:
THE TOWER OF THE SEVEN HUNCHBACKS (Edgar Neville, 1944) 
I first heard of this obscure but intriguing little item on the “Time Out” Film Guide and obviously leapt at the chance to acquire it recently from a French source – even if, alas, the print turned out to sport no English subtitles; I usually don’t mind it so much – in the case, for instance, of Jess Franco movies – but I really felt like I was missing something here!
From what I could gather (the Spanish language is partly similar to the Italian in which I’m fluent, but the worn soundtrack present here didn’t make it any easier for me!) is fairly rich in twists with a one-eyed ghost (who, Cocteau-like, uses a mirror as a portal from the netherworld) bidding our hero to seek a secret society of hunchbacks involved in the trafficking of archeological artifacts (but, from reading what few reviews I could find about the film, the latter’s also asked to protect the old man’s daughter and help her expose his own murderer). While I’m at it, let me just catalogue what other plot/visual elements seem to have escaped me (or else have already receded into my subconscious – given that I was watching it somewhat half-heartedly): the city of Hunchbacks was apparently built by victimized Jews during the Spanish Inquisition; there’s talk of “thrilling horrors”, “cobwebbed mummies” and “hypnotism”, plus the fact that the villain (who, admittedly, is quite effective) is allowed to get away with it.
Even so, these reviews are equally contradictory: one calls it “anything but conventional” whereas another states “while the movie has a wonderfully expressionist look and the story is certainly inventive, the plot unfolds in a very conventional way, and while entertaining, it isn't exactly the masterpiece that could have been or that its very artistic look may indicate” – for what it’s worth, I tend to favor this latter view! Incidentally, while it would seem to evoke the feel of the contemporaneous Universal horror films, THE TOWER OF THE SEVEN HUNCHBACKS is really an obvious precursor to the loopier Mexican variety of genre outings which came into full swing during the subsequent decade. Like these other film buffs, however, I regretted the picture’s comic relief (apparently, the source novel is more somber) – at one point, for no apparent reason, even Napoleon’s ghost puts in an appearance! – and even more so the musical sequences.
What eventually made the film worthwhile, then, were the atmospheric sets (even if, at this juncture, I wouldn’t quite use the epithet “must be seen to be believed” to describe them!) and monochrome lighting. Needless to say, I’m grateful for the opportunity to sample this ‘lost classic’ but I’d love to revisit it in an improved edition – though, alas, I’m not holding my breath!
10/05/08:
NOTHING BUT THE NIGHT (Peter Sasdy, 1972)
It’s always a thrill to catch up with something that I missed out on when it was shown on local TV in the early 1980s; the fact that this immediately takes me back to my childhood days when home video was still science-fiction in my neck of the woods and I was (almost completely) at the mercy of TV programmers for my practical film education is kind of sweetly ironic given the picture’s own ‘reincarnation’ theme! Even if it’s available on DVD in Japan (of all places), I came across it via a full-frame TV screening with forced French subtitles.
It was the first of only two films made by Christopher Lee’s own company, Charlemagne Productions: in an interview done at the time of the film’s release (which I just dug up in a magazine of my father’s), he takes pains to stress how he abhors screen violence and how, despite the presence of himself and frequent partner Peter Cushing, his new film is “not one of those macabre movies…but an action-adventure thriller with tension, suspense, a lot of exciting outdoor action, and some moments of high terror…a very good evening’s escapist entertainment” (needless to say, the film’s lurid re-issue titles – THE DEVIL’S UNDEAD and THE RESURRECTION SYNDICATE – made no such qualms!). Incidentally, it is also stated that Lee intended to adapt two other works by John Blackburn (writer of the film’s source novel) for the screen – but these, of course, never came to pass. Still, given its eventual climactic similarities to the later and superior THE WICKER MAN (1973), this film is as much a horror piece as that one would prove to be. The initial disjointed outburst of inexplicable murders almost makes one expect a conspiracy like the one that would later figure in THE BOYS FROM BRAZIL (1978); that the eventual revelation, then, is closer to THE DAMNED (1963)-meets-THE BROTHERHOOD OF SATAN (1971) makes it worth waiting for nonetheless, with a powerful climactic sequence that is clearly the film’s highlight and makes one bemoan the fact that it comes too late to really make this show a winner (and which perhaps explains its relative invisibility nowadays).
Actually, Cushing and Lee (playing all-too-typical parts, albeit with their customary professionalism) are not the main characters – which are instead unremarkably filled by Keith Barron and Georgia Brown as overzealous doctor and journalist respectively looking into the mysterious mumblings of a ‘special’ girl that hails from the remote, exclusive Scottish island/school of Bala. Diana Dors, as the girl’s tarty, jailbird of a mother, spends most of her time screaming, pushing people around or crawling on her belly to escape the clutches of the pursuing police force (who have been set on her by the seemingly all-powerful school institution) and who have tracked her down to Bala. Fulton Mackay as a bumbling but high-profile Police Official and Kathleen Byron as an enigmatic scientist engaged at the school also have noteworthy roles; for the record, this turned out to be the last film of John Robinson (the star of the original TV series of “Quatermass II” [1955], here appearing as an aristocratic protector of the school) as well as Michael Gambon’s first, playing a young Police Inspector.
10/05/08:
SYMPTOMS (Jose` Ramon Larraz, 1974)
This was the third Larraz title I’ve watched after VAMPYRES (1974) and THE COMING OF SIN (1978) – and will be promptly followed by another, THE HOUSE THAT VANISHED aka SCREAM…AND DIE! (1973); it’s his second best-regarded effort after VAMPYRES itself and, in retrospect, a reputation that’s fully deserved.
Even so, the film is hardly the heady brew of erotica and visceral thrills that was the latter (though it contains similar lesbian undertones and the occasional outburst of shocking violence) but rather a deliberately-paced mood-piece – in fact, it might best be described as REPULSION (1965) in the countryside (with all the inherent eeriness that such a remote setting entails)! In any case, relying as it does on fleeting
frissons (the subtle appearance of a ‘mysterious’ woman roaming the mansion), admirably-sustained tension (the connotations involving Peter Vaughn’s character and, of course, the various murder sequences) and a carefully-deployed central puzzle (which keeps us guessing down to the very penultimate shot!), the film is surely a testament to Larraz’s versatility within a genre which had all but turned stale by this time (even more so
vis-a`-vis the then-crumbling British movie industry).
Interestingly, the lead role is played by Angela Pleasence – daughter of horror icon Donald; just because she’s his spitting image, the actress’ odd looks are perfect for her mentally unbalanced character (though I doubt Larraz intended it to be a serious case history, there
is the singular fact of SYMPTOMS being one of the competing entries at that year’s Cannes Film Festival to consider!). Equally thoughtful was the selection of the other principal cast members: the aforementioned Peter Vaughan’s burly and stern handyman could, at first glimpse, have been played by just any heavy-set person – but there’s no denying that the part benefits immensely from his experienced presence; and pretty Lorna Heilbron (from THE CREEPING FLESH [1973]) as Pleasence’s housemate, with short-cropped hair suggesting the then-fashionable androgyny. Affable character actor Raymond Huntley, a veteran of many a British comedy, plays the owner of the village drugstore in what proved to be his last film.
Incidentally, this was yet another picture – bafflingly M.I.A. on DVD as we speak – which I recently acquired on DVD-R i.e. I’ve had to make do with a full-frame edition culled from TV with forced Spanish subtitles to boot…but which is appropriate in this case, since the director actually hails from that country!
10/06/08:
HOUSE OF THE LONG SHADOWS (Pete Walker, 1983)
This proved to be the last film of British horror director Walker (in the accompanying DVD interview for his THE FLESH AND BLOOD SHOW [1972], which followed this in short order, he states that this was his only ‘assignment’ – all his other work he personally financed) as well as the final teaming of that prolific and (for fans, hugely rewarding) iconic duo of Peter Cushing (complete with endearing speech impediment) and Christopher Lee (a complex characterization, albeit characteristically boorish).
Having mentioned the two Hammer stars, some reviewers mistakenly believed the film intended to recapture that studio’s gothic tradition but it actually harkens back to the comedy-thrillers of the Silent and early Talkie era. In fact, it was the
sixth filmization – scripted by Michael Armstrong, whose own directorial career was curtailed following the notoriety of his MARK OF THE DEVIL (1970) – of “Seven Keys To Baldpate”, a novel by Earl Derr Biggers (creator of Charlie Chan) that was adapted for the stage by George M. Cohan (yes, the songwriter played by James Cagney in YANKEE DOODLE DANDY [1942]!).
Besides, its plot about a dysfunctional Welsh family that includes a locked-up maniac and whose mansion is ‘intruded’ upon by innocent strangers is a virtual retread of James Whale’s sublime THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932; one of my absolute favorites) – though with little of that film’s style or wit. Another direct link to it is the fact that there is a Roderick involved – and let’s not forget that Vincent Price (who co-stars here) had played a character by that name in Roger Corman’s seminal Poe adaptation HOUSE OF USHER (1960)! The final revelation (which wasn’t at all surprising nor, come to think of it, was the identity of the mysterious killer), then, is straight out of SEVEN FOOTPRINTS TO SATAN (1929)…
The cast also highlights two other lesser horror stars – John Carradine (who’s supposed to be the patriarch of the family when the difference in age from, at least, Price and Cushing is minimal!) and Walker regular Sheila Keith (replacing the ailing Elsa Lanchester). The young cast isn’t in any way comparable obviously – however, both Desi Arnaz Jr. (from childhood sci-fi TV show AUTOMAN [1983]!) and Julie Peasgood prove reasonably engaging nonetheless. By the way, Richard Todd appears as novelist Arnaz’s genial publisher – who makes a bet with his client that he won’t stay the full-length of 24 hours in an ostensibly haunted house (which is the exact same premise of the Abel Gance/Max Linder short AU SECOURS! [1924] I’ve just watched and, I see, Michael Elliott did too!).
At the end of the day, the film is clearly old fashioned (despite the occasional gore) but undeniably fun – which makes the Leonard Maltin guide’s
rating a genuine head-scratcher!
10/06/08:
THE FLESH AND BLOOD SHOW (Pete Walker, 1972)
Walker’s first horror film is an intriguing and enjoyable mix of sex and chills set in an abandoned theater; interestingly, in the accompanying interview on the DVD, he states that the nudity was deemed obligatory at the time if the picture was to hope for a distribution deal (particularly since Walker was his own financier).
The plot starts off by having eight out-of-work actors being convened to the aforementioned remote location by a mysterious employer; though they occasionally indulge in the kind of silly yet pretentious improvisational exercise also at the core of Jacques Rivette’s insanely-long (13 hours!) OUT ONE: NOLI ME TANGERE (1971), they’re often just interested in getting laid and the girls in particularly act like sluts most of the time!! At first, I was annoyed by this apparent laziness in scripting (by Alfred Shaughnessy, a respected if little-known director in his own right) – but, then, it’s revealed that this was the reason these young and ‘morally corrupt’ folk were called upon to begin with (as the continuation of a notorious incident from the wartime era which had actually caused the theater’s closure).
The male members of the cast are effectively enough led by Ray Brooks (from Richard Lester’s Swinging London comedy THE KNACK [1965]) and also include Robin Askwith (soon to rise to dubious prominence with the smutty “Confessions” films) and veteran Patrick Barr (who turns in a bravura performance, particularly once his true identity is exposed). As for the girls, they all look great in and out of clothes – particularly Jenny Hanley (who, interestingly, discovers to have an inextricable link of her own with the gloomy theater) and Luan Peters (who escapes the murderer[s] clutches the first time but not the second).
The film attempts a reasonable imitation throughout of the Italian
Giallo style (that country, then, paid it the compliment by borrowing its single setting for Lamberto Bava’s popular but third-rate DEMONS [1985]) – though it culminates with a rather unnecessary 3-D gimmick (which Walker had already utilized in the lackluster “Rashomon”-type sex comedy THE FOUR DIMENSIONS OF GRETA [1972]). For the record, of the director’s horror outings, I’ve yet to get my hands on SCHIZO (1976) and HOME BEFORE MIDNIGHT (1979)…
I like The Brood too. You might like Don't Look Now...ever seen that? And Curse of the Werewolf, especially when that kid is talking about his new taste for blood.
Several of the ladies are fetching! That new nurse and the patient who just wants to be loved! What can we do? We're horny guys...so that's probably it! 
), kidnaps the devil's bride to take her to some holy ground and kill her....thus destroying the antichrist before he's even conceived.....or something like that. Well, what's a devil to do? He calls upon his court jester to entertain him with a couple of stories while he awaits his minions to retrieve his lost bride. This one's not really even in the same neighborhood of "good," but I'd be lying if I said it was total crap.
