Blast-Off Girls (1967)

One thing I can say about Herschell Gordon Lewis’s 1967 picture Blast-Off Girls is that it’s a lot more fun than Just for the Hell of It, the other movie included in this double-feature from Something Weird Video. But then root canal therapy is more fun than watching Just for the Hell of It.

Lewis was nothing if not versatile. This time he’s attempting a rock’n’roll movie. A sleazy manager named Boojie Baker decides to make stars of a bunch of untalented musicians. He tricks them into a contract that ensures that virtually all the money they make will go to him. He has a bevy of girls working for him, and most of his deals are made by selling their sexual favours. That’s how he keeps the guys in the band happy, That’s also how he gets them a recording contract. When sex on its own isn’t enough, he throws in a spot of blackmail.

The band is christened The Big Blast, and pretty soon they’re one of the hottest new acts in the rock’n’roll scene. But all is not well. The boys are starting to think they should be paid in money, not just in girls. The rest of the movie consists of their attempt to get the better of the slimy and villainous Boojie.

The biggest problem with this one is the 83 minute running time. As a 60 minute feature it might almost have been fun, but Lewis has no clue about how to pace a movie. Scenes feel painfully padded out, and there’s no coherent structure to the film. With enough energy and enthusiasm an exploitation movie can get away with such flaws, but Blast-Off Girls doesn’t quite have the necessary spark. The cinematography and direction are too dull, and while it tries to be sexy it doesn’t deliver the goods in that area either.

Dan Conway’s outrageously over-the-top performance as Boojie almost saves the movie. He overdoes the wickedness so much you expect him to start twirling his moustache, if he had a moustache. He does have a cane though, so he is very nearly a villain straight out of a Victorian melodrama. It’s a valid enough approach to the role and it works fairly well.

The band members are rather lacking in any signs of actual personality, so their efforts to appear zany in the style of The Monkees don’t really come off. A proper script might have given them some assistance. The girls are there purely for decoration. Women in Lewis’s movies seem to be victims or whores, and in this case they’re whores, but they’re not overly entertaining whores. But they’re not given the lines and there’s no real direction. It would also have helped if the band’s repertoire consisted of more than just one song, played over and over!

With all those faults there is still a moderate amount of fun to be had here. It doesn’t have the unpleasant overtones of Just for the Hell of It, and it does achieve a certain kitschy charm at times. And there’s even a bizarre cameo by Colonel Sanders, feeding fried chicken to the guys in the band.

This double-bill is the only DVD release I’ve encountered so far from Something Weird that has really disappointed me. Fortunately it’s one of the few that’s available in Australia, so I was able to rent it rather than having to buy it, for which I’m extremely grateful. If you’re a real fan of 60s rock’n’roll movies and you like Lewis’s style it’s probably worth the rental. Otherwise I can’t really recommend a purchase all that highly unless you’re a very keen H. G. Lewis fan.

The Tingler (1959)

William Castle is one of those film-makers whose life and personal style were more interesting than his films. In some ways he was a throwback to the classic age of exploitation movies in the 30s and 40s, when exploitation movies were taken on the road by distributors who were mostly ex-carny or sideshow people, and when the art of showmanship took precedence over the actual movies. And William Castle was certainly a showman, coming up with a string of gimmicks to sell his low-budget horror films. The Tingler, made in 1959, is a typical example of the breed, and of Castle’s showmanship.

In this case the gimmick was to wire up the seats in the movie theatres so that during the scary moments the seats would start to shake. The gimmick as known, for no obvious reason, as Percepto.

The plot is insanely but engagingly silly even by low-budget horror movie standards. Vincent Price is a mad scientist doctor type who performs autopsies on executed criminals. He comes up with the theory that fear produces a physical entity in the region of the spine which he christens The Tingler. It gets bigger the more scared you get. When you scream, it gets smaller again. If you don’t scream, it can kill you. This of course opened up another promotional gimmick - encouraging the audience to scream to protect themselves from The Tingler!

Quite by accident this slightly deranged medico makes the acquaintance of a deaf-mute woman who runs a silent movie theatre with her husband. Being deaf-mute, she cannot scream, which naturally attracts his scientific interest.

The movie is also notable for being one of the very first to deal with LSD. LSD was of course still legal in 1959, and Vincent Price uses it in his experiments on fear. His
acid trip experience is memorably over-the-top! The Tingler itself looks like something made out of rubber that you could buy in a novelty shop for about 25 cents, but that’s one of the joys of low-budget horror flicks!

Apart from his drug trip Price avoids excessive scenery chewing in his performance, perhaps wisely deciding that the story line is hammy enough without his contributing any additional hamminess!

The main problem with this movie is that it just doesn’t deliver any real scares, or any genuine creepiness, or any worthwhile atmosphere. Seeing it at the time with Castle’s gimmicks in place was probably quite a fun experience, but it hasn’t aged all that well. It’s at best modestly entertaining for the sheer absurdity and oddness of the plot. It is competently made and it certainly has some camp value.

There’s a new boxed set of William Castle’s movies about to be released, although unfortunately it’s a mix of movies already available on DVD and others previously unreleased in this format. It seems to be to be rather overpriced.

Angel Guts: Red Classroom (1979)

Angel Guts: Red Classroom (Tenshi no harawata: Akai kyôshitsu) was the second of a series of half-a-dozen or so very successful movies made from the late 70s up to the early 90s and based on a manga series by Takashi Ishii. Most were made by Nikkatsu Studios.

Japanese exploitation movies can be tremendous fun, but some can be quite heavy going and even at times slightly unpleasant viewing experiences. The level of sexualised violence can be disquieting to a western audience. Angel Guts: Red Classroom is certainly not a comfortable movie to watch, and there are scenes that are disturbing, and deliberately so. If you can get past that then it’s actually an intelligent and provocative movie and one that is worth seeing. The violence does serve a purpose. It's unpleasant in the way that films like A Clockwork Orange and Straw Dogs are unpleasant - given the nature of the subject matter it's difficult to see how the film could escape being disturbing. If you’re not comfortable with a reasonably high level of sexualised violence you might want to avoid this one though.

Muraki is a guy who works as an editor for an erotica magazine. It’s strictly softcore stuff, but one day he sees an illegal hardcore movie that depicts a schoolgirl being raped. He becomes obsessed with the young woman in the movie. But does he want to have sex with her, or to save her? This is one of several unsettling questions raised by Angel Guts: Red Classroom, and it deliberately does not provide us with easy or unambiguous answers to any of them. He does meet her. Her name is Nami. She is working at a receptionist at a “love hotel” (a peculiarly Japanese institution that rents rooms by the hour but not necessarily for the purposes of prostitution - some are simply used by couples who live with their parents and have no other way of obtaining the privacy required for having sex). She takes him to a room, and although she has never met him before she immediately starts to undress. Is she a prostitute? This is another unanswered question.

Muraki finally convinces her he wants to talk to her. He wants to know about the movie. Was she a willing participant? She suggests that she was either not willing, or that she was initially willing but things got out of hand. But other events will cause us to have some doubts about whether Nami always tells the entire truth about her life, and her feelings. The most likely conclusion we can come to is that Nami’s life has been lived in a rather ambiguous kind of sexual/criminal half-world where the boundaries between the consensual and the non-consensual, and the legal and the illegal, are not always as clear as they should be. And that Nami herself has trouble distinguishing these boundaries. But then it’s also possible she has told the complete truth, or that she has told nothing but lies. Either way, Muraki’s life spirals out of control as his obsession grows. A complicating factor is his relationship with Yuko, a model who works for his erotica magazine. She is married, but she is as sexually obsessed by Muraki as he is by Nami.

After an abortive assignation with Nami he does not see her for three years, then their paths cross again. She is now working in a very low-class dive, and is in a destructive relationship with the bar owner. Her life seems even more out of control that it was, but we are unsure just how long she has been on this self-destructive path, and we are increasingly asked to question the extent to which she is a victim of others, or a victim of her own self-destructive tendencies. Which is not to say that the movie demonises her or presents her as an evil woman who destroys men. It doesn’t. She’s more complex than that, and the film is more complex than that.

Angel Guts: Red Classroom was one of Nikkatsu’s romanporno series of films (the name comes from the French name for an erotic novel - roman pornographique). These films saved Nikkatsu from bankruptcy and from 1971 to 1988 made up their entire output. Nikkatsu was a big studio, and this output amounted to literally hundreds of such movies. What made these movies so interesting was that Nikkatsu was prepared to allow its directors and screenwriters to have almost complete artistic control - as long as the movies contained a considerable quantity of sexual content the film-makers could do whatever they liked. This of course was also true to a large extent of European and American low-budget exploitation movies, but what made the Nikkatsu romanporno movies unique was that Nikkatsu was a major studio with all the resources that entailed. As a result the production values and technical quality of these movies are extremely high, and they were made by people who were both experienced and very serious film-makers.

Chûsei Sone, the man who helmed this entry in the series, was a visually bold and exceptionally talented director. His earlier film Naked Rashomon is wildly inventive and filled with striking images. It was also made for Nikkatsu and interestingly it’s done in a style quite different to Angel Guts: Red Classroom.

The movie raises other questions aside from those I mentioned earlier. It raises questions about voyeurism, and the voyeurism inherent in film, and questions about the differences between reality and fantasy, and reminds us that no matter how realistic a movie may be it is not reality. The opening scene shows us what appears to be a rape. Then we realise it’s a movie that a group of people are watching, so it isn’t real. But then we’re watching a movie as well, so none of it is real. So should we feel uncomfortable about watching a movie about a movie about a rape?

Don’t let the romanporno label put you off. While it contains all the ingredients required of an exploitation flick this is a movie with much higher aspirations, and it is in fact (if you’re not put off by the sexual violence) a very high quality drama of erotic obsession.

The Artsmagic DVD release includes a swag of extras, including a perceptive commentary track by Jasper Sharp and an excellent interview with Takashi Ishii who wrote both the screenplay and the original manga. Sharp (who has written several books on Japanese erotic movies) makes some bold claims for this film, even comparing it to Hitchcock, but he makes some fairly convincing arguments to back his claims.

The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy (1958)

I’m quite a fan of the Mexican Aztec Mummy movies of the 1950s but it has to be said that The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy (La Momia azteca contra el robot humano) hardly qualifies as a movie at all. More than half of the movie’s 65-minute running time consists of flashbacks to the first two Aztec mummy movies!

Once we get to some actual new footage it has to be admitted that there’s enough high camp silliness to satisfy devotees of such things. The robot of the title is not just a human robot, it’s an atomic human robot! Because only a nuclear robot is capable of defeating the dreaded Aztec mummy. This is, even for the 1950s, a remarkably silly if rather entertaining robot. The mad scientist’s laboratory is fun as well. The budget for this movie must have been virtually nil.

It also has to be said that Luis Aceves Castañeda as Dr Krupp is one of the greatest of all movie mad scientists. He is still determined to get his hands on the fabulous Aztec treasure, which is of course guarded zealously by the Aztec mummy. And the dedicated scientist Dr. Eduardo Almada, his daughter Flor (who had been destined as a sacrifice to an Aztec god in a previous life) and his faithful if not overly brave assistant Pinacate are still determined to foil his evil plans. Since there’s so little in the way of new footage and new plot it’s not really possible to say a great deal about this movie.

Interestingly enough the first three Aztec Mummy movies were apparently shot simultaneously, which would have been a neat way to keep production costs very low indeed. The producers were obviously confident they had a winning formula on their hands, and they were correct.

This title is included in BCI’s Aztec Mummy boxed set which also features the first two movies in the series, The Aztec Mummy and The Curse of the Aztec Mummy. Both of which I highly recommend. All three movies are in Spanish with English sub-titles and there are also English dubbed versions for two of the films. The prints are quite good.

I’m a fan of Mexican horror in general, but I’m especially fond of the Aztec mummy movies because they were a genuine attempt to include some actual Mexican legend and folklore, albeit mixed with a good deal of campy fun with diabolical criminal masterminds.

Daughter of Dracula (1972)

Daughter of Dracula (La fille de Dracula) is one of Jess Franco’s lesser known efforts, and although it doesn’t compare with his best work it’s worth a look.

It’s one of his many attempts to combine the classic gothic horror elements of the traditional vampire film with a contemporary setting. The settings - the wonderful castle and some exquisite interiors - are among the movie’s strengths. It’s a great looking film, and it certainly captures the atmosphere of aristocratic decay of the Karlstein family.

The matriarch of the family is dying, and needs to tell the eldest daughter Luisa (Britt Nichols) the family secret. Their infamous ancestor, reputed to be a vampire, still lies in the crypt of the castle. And he isn’t exactly dead. More importantly, Luisa has inherited his vampirism. While plotting isn’t terribly important in a Franco film this one is quite convoluted. There have been a series of murders, and the police are looking into the matter. The present-day holder of the family title, Count Max Karlstein (played by Daniel White who is better known as the composer of the music for many of Franco’s films), is certainly a suspect. The police aren’t the only ones investigating these events - Cyril Jefferson (played by Franco himself) is a kind of free-lance researcher into the occult and he is convinced the murders are connected with the supernatural, and more specifically with the very unnatural Karlstein family.

Luisa has another obsession besides blood - the beautiful Karine (Anne Libert). Karine knows Luisa is dangerous, but she doesn’t realise just how dangerous.

The plot is never really resolved satisfactorily, but this is a Jess Franco film so that isn’t a major problem. If anything it adds the slightly dream-like ambience that a good Franco film requires. This movie probably needed a little more of that - it’s caught between trying to be a fairly conventional horror film and being a true exercise in Franco weirdness.

Oddly enough the most impressive acting performance comes from Daniel White - he’s slightly creepy but also dreamily melancholic. It’s always nice to see Howard Vernon in a Franco movie but as the original count he has little to do. Franco himself is quite good, and Alberto Dalbés makes a good cop. Britt Nichols looks great, but she lacks the strange depraved charisma that Soledad Miranda and Lina Romay brought to their performances for Franco. She’s just too much like a 20th century model to be convincingly evil or tortured.

Despite its flaws the film has enough touches of Franco visual invention to be worth seeing, and it does have some some very atmospheric moments (especially the scene with Count Max playing the piano while Luisa and Karine are making love). This is reasonably good second-rank Franco.

Big Bosoms and Square Jaws: The Biography of Russ Meyer

Big Bosoms and Square Jaws is Jimmy McDonough’s biography of cult movie legend Russ Meyer. You couldn’t write a boring book about Meyer, and while the definitive biography has probably yet to be written this one is certainly worth reading if you’re a fan.

You only need to look at his movies to realise that Meyer was a strange guy. McDonough at times seems to me to be just a little judgmental, especially in regard to Meyer’s attitude towards women. Clearly he had issues in this area, but on the other hand most of the women who starred in his films seem to remember the man with considerable affection, and seemed to be happy to accept him even with his many sexual idiosyncracies.

McDonough does offer some interesting insights into Meyer’s childhood and his very odd relationship with his and his sister (who tragically ended her life in a mental hospital). I don’t think he really explains what made this complex and fascinating man tick, but it’s a good starting point.

The best part of the book is the account of the making of the movies. Meyer’s film-making method sounds like a mixture of endurance test and organised chaos. There’s also quite a bit on his early career as a photographer for men’s magazines such as Playboy.

And of course there are the wonderful women who played such an important part in his life and work. They were every bit as delightfully strange as Meyer himself, which is probably why they were able to work with him! You can’t help falling in love with women like Haji and Kitten Natividad. Now I want to watch all his movies all over again!

Maria Marten, or The Murder in the Red Barn (1935)

I celebrated the arrival of my Tod Slaughter boxed set by watching Maria Marten, or The Murder in the Red Barn tonight. This 1935 British production is perhaps even closer to pure Victorian melodrama than the 1936 Sweeney Todd, and I loved every minute of it.

It was based loosely (very loosely I suspect) on a celebrated real-life murder case. It became a best-selling 19th century broadsheet and was inevitably adapted as a play. Tod Slaughter himself played the role on stage many times. And he plays the role of the wicked squire in the movie exactly as if he was on stage. None of this nonsense about toning down one’s performance for the screen!

Maria Marten is a farmer’s daughter in love with handsome gypsy Carlos. Naturally her strict father does not approve, but more misfortune is in store for Maria when she attracts the eye of the wicked Squire Corder at a village dance in the Red Barn owned by the squire. He seduces her, and of course she finds herself pregnant. Her father turns her out of the house for disgracing the family name. In desperation she turns to the one man she thinks has the power to help her - Squire Corder. Not surprisingly this does not turn out well for poor Maria.

Now that Maria has mysteriously disappeared her parents are having second thoughts about their behaviour, and start a search for their errant daughter. Squire Corder has tried to point the finger of suspicion at Carlos the gypsy, but he is also busily searching for Maria. He confronts the squire, is shot and wounded, and is pursued to the Red Barn by assorted gentry, townspeople, a pack of hounds and a party of Bow Street Runners. It appears that the squire’s plan has worked perfectly, until one of the hounds starts to take an interest in a patch of disturbed earth in the barn.

Eric Portman as Carlos and Sophie Stewart as Maria overact outrageously. In fact the entire cast enters into the melodramatic spirit of the piece. Tod Slaughter naturally dominates the movie, and if you enjoy this kind of extremely hammy acting then you’ll be in bliss. I certainly was.

The plot holds few surprises, but then that’s the whole point of melodrama I suppose. You’re expected to know what’s going to happen next. It adds to the fun, and offers the opportunity for hissing at the dastardly villainy of Squire Corder, and for sympathising with the tragic plight of poor doomed Maria. Considering the unbelievably strict censorship exercised in Britain in the 1930s, especially in respect of horror movies, this film is as gruesome as they were able ti get way with in 1935. Which isn’t very gruesome at all by modern standards, but contemporary audiences undoubtedly experienced a few frissons of pure horror. And the ending is suitably grim.

The movie benefits from a very short running time which makes it very fast-paced indeed for a 1930s British crime/horror offering. Despite a limited budget and something of the feel of a filmed play this is a skillfully made and very entertaining picture. You do need to have a taste for this sort of thing of course, and it’s a taste that won’t appeal to everyone. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I adore deliciously over-ripe acting.

Alpha Video’s DVD presentation is what you expect from that company. The best thing that can be said about it is that it’s quite watchable. The big plus is the pricing - I picked up their six-movie boxed set of Tod Slaughter’s films for a mere eight dollars, and for that price it’s really too good to pass up.