Girls, Guns and Ghouls

Review of Lady Stay Dead (1981)

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 11:02:50 GMT

As an Australian I feel kind of duty-bound to cover what I can of our cult-cinema output. Well, that duty has tonight led me again into the land of director Terry Bourke. After the fiasco that is Inn of the Damned I was a bit hesitant to delve there again, but memories of reading about Lady, Stay Dead in Starlog magazine many, many a year ago re-ignited my curiosity. And in the end, this entry in the semi-slasher-thriller pantheon isn't really all that bad. It doesn't go as far as some dark horrors such as I Spit on Your Grave or Maniac, but we do get to spend some quality time with a sweaty, deluded loon for most of the film's running time.

Pretty singer/actress Marie Coleby (Deborah Coulls) has a charmed, affluent life in Sydney. She lives alone in a beach-side mansion with her dog and doting neighbour, old Billy Shepherd (Les Foxcroft) helps her out from time to time. She also has a penchant for swimming in the nude - via a body double, I suspect - in her luxury pool. We then met her gardener, the bearded Gordon Mason (Chard Hayward). Our first introduction to Mister Mason is in women's undies, embracing and muttering to a life-size doll in bed. By the looks of the photos on his wall, we quickly understand that Mason is obsessed, in a distinctly unhealthy way, with Marie. Marie continues to go on her bitchy way, oblivious, although she is nice to old Billy. During a photo-shoot at her mansion, Marie yells at Mason to clean up the mess left behind. Later she lets Billy know she's going on a trip for a while, and that her sister will be coming to mind the house and dog. Going to exercise at the beach, she doesn't realise Mason's watching her from afar, masturbating at the sight of his obsession doing stretches while he imagines images of naked women being tied up, or fondling themselves.

Later as Gordon is doing some chainsawing, Marie berates him for making noise while she's on the phone, and also commands him to take some rubbish with him. As she prepares to leave for the airport, she doesn't realise that Gordon's entered the house. He's offended at being talked to like a child. She screams at him to get out, and that he's an idiot for bringing mud into the house. Gordon snaps, saying that Marie was meant to be different, not like all the other 'dumb housewives.' Things soon go from bad to worse, as Marie threatens to call the cops. Gordon pins her to a couch, and the frightened girl offers to kiss him to calm him down. Her revulsion gets the better of her though, and she soon spits in Gordon's face. This causes him to go off the deep end, and rape Marie over a sofa. Meanwhile we see that Billy is walking her dog down at the beach, so there are no witnesses. Afterwards, Gordon tries to say that he's there anytime for her if she likes it rough, unlike her soft yuppie boyfriends. The distraught girl screams that she's going to turn him in to the police, to which Gordon responds by picking her up and lowing her head-down into her fishtank. After a few minutes of struggling, it's all over. Completely crazed, Gordon begs the coprse to wake up, but she's pretty darned dead.

Billy returns with the dog and discovers Gordon carrying Marie's body - now wrapped in garbage bags - out for some sort of disposal. It's pretty clear to the old man what's happened, and we quickly cut away from his fate. Gordon tries to poison the dog but it's wary of the murderer, and runs away to the beach. Before any peace can return to Gordon's life, a new resident enters the house of death. Marie's older sister, Jenny Nolan (Louise Howitt) has come to mind the place while she was away. Wondering where her sister was, Jenny takes a shower, while the paranoid Gordon enters with his hedge-clippers to check her out. Before he can commit more mayhem, he spots Marie's dog yapping around the place, and pursues it back to the beach. He eventually shoots it off-screen. Mystified by her sister's absence, Jenny takes a walk and finds the dead dog at the beach. She runs to Billy's place and yells at the seemingly-sleeping man through his window. He doesn't answer, and Jenny leaves. Of course, we see the bloody wound on the dead man's head and see that Gordon has just arranged his cadaver that way. Gordon then decides to re-appear as the innocent gardener, and Jenny, though wary, is friendly to him and even has a coffee with him outside. He agrees to retrieve the dog and though grateful, Jenny can tell that there's something awry with this overly-attentive man. That night, Jenny discovers bits of seaweed on the floor and Marie's earrings in the fish-tank. She soon puts two and two together, and rushes back over to Billy's place.

Soon enough she discovers, with a scream, the old man's body hanging in his garage. Jenny dashes back to her house and quickly gets a call through to the beach security before Gordon turns up, with groceries and flowers, and cuts the phone line. Gordon tries to keep up the friendly facade of wanting to have dinner with her, but soon realises that Jenny won't be fooled and has found Billy's corpse. Turning psychotic, Gordon shows her Marie's corpse in the back of his truck. Jenny screams in an anguished state, but she soon comes to her senses enough to arm herself with a thick metal rod. The lunatic tries to break in a few times but gets progessively more injured by the feisty woman. Finally he begins to cut his way in with his trusty chainsaw, but the two security guards show up. Officers Rex Dunbar (James Elliott) and Clyde Collings (Roger Ward) try to calm Jenny down, but she's shattered by her sister's death. Dunbar goes out to find Gordon and ends up beaten into a semi-conscious pulp by him. Collings tell Jenny that Gordon's been in trouble with other women before, but they've never pressed charges, and that he's never gone this far before. Gordon begins to step up his siege and Collings and Jenny try to escape. Dunbar ends up burned alive by a botton of lighted petrol rolled at him. Jenny finds Marie's corpse and cries again at her senseless death. Collings, in a rage at the agonising death of his colleague, chases Gordon into the swimming pool and appears to get the upper hand, killing the maniac.

Jenny runs away to the beach and collapsing on the road, is relieved when the patrol car pulls up. Of course, all is not as it seems and it's Gordon at the wheel, with the corpses of Marie and now Collings in the back seat. He picks Jenny up and begins throttling her, but is suddenly aghast when he sees visions of Marie in his arms. Letting her drop to the bitumen, Gordon begins ranting and raving about Marie, and how he never meant to hurt her and still loves her. Lost in his delerium, Gordon's hit by a passing motorcyclist, both parties flying through the air. Gordon crashes back into the police car, just as another two cops drive onto the scene. Will the crazed gardener recover and kill his final victims, or is it the end for him and his reign of terror?

I don't quite know what it is, but there's something I quite enjoyed about Lady, Stay Dead, other than the fairly charmless title. Maniac-like, we know who's doing the killings and he's a socially inept, sweaty loser rather than an unstoppable force. He does seem to have it together enough to have some sexual experiences with bored housewives, though. Sex scenes, the body count and blood and gore-effects are kept to a minimum, although there are some flashes of exploitative nudity when Mason's remembering the 'other women'. There also seems to be a body double on hand for Deborah Coulls, as we never see her nude and facing the camera in her few nude scenes. Such is this type of film-making. There is a genuine sense of suspense as the film moves along, and we do wonder who indeed is going to survive Mason's insanity. It's kind of a pity it becomes a multi-player shootout at the end, I would have preferred a cat-and-mouse game between Gordon and Jenny to be the only focus, but it's still a lot of fun. Chard Hayward plays a appropriately perverted and crazed murderer, before they all started wise-cracking or coming back as re-animated zombies. Strangely enough, there is something lost and pathetic about him that makes you feel some degree of sympathy towards the character. Deborah Coulls plays Marie as the beautiful, spoiled bitch who at least has enough heart to be nice to her old neighbour Billy. She certainly doesn't deserve being raped and drowned in a fishtank. Louise Howitt as Jenny is probably the best actor in the cast, and holds up the film for the most part. Her genuine anguish at the loss of her sister is actually quite sad, and she makes a nicely determined-to-survive 'final girl'.

Although a low-budget production, Lady, Stay Dead has some nice touches courtesy of cinematographer Ray Henman. The New South Wales beach scenery is beautiful - I would love to own that house - and there some interesting shots such as looking up through a telephone as Jenny's dialling it in a panic, or following a rolling molotov cocktail before it explodes in a hapless victim's face. Bob Young's persistent, plonking piano score actually suits the proceedings with it's mournful droning. The easy-listening theme song of "Loving from a Distance" - heard many times, I must add, does suit Gordon's creepy nature and easily becomes the song of a stalker. Perhaps the overall nature of the film is a bit dubious towards women at times, but Gordon is portrayed as so utterly pathetic, and Jenny so sensible and well-balanced, that we viewers - hopefully - will side with the victims. The initial rape scene with Marie is filmed to show how horrible it is for her, and how ugly and digusting the whole experience is, rather than titillating for the assailant.

So if you're in the mood for a vintage Australian sleaze-thriller flick with a dash of slasher in there for good measure, Lady, Stay Dead may well tickle your fancy. Don't expect too much, and you might enjoy your time with this hedge-clipper-wielding, Antipodean nut-job.

© Boris Lugosi, 2010.

Review of Mantis in Lace

Tue, 09 Feb 2010 10:22:26 GMT

With titles to his name such as Street of a Thousand Pleasures and The Agony of Love, you'd probably expect any output from director William Rostler to have a fairly high sleaze quotient. Well, Mantis in Lace doesn't dissapoint in that area, but it's also a surprisingly well-made little film that actually has a few memorable moments while adhering o it's sleazeball aesthetic. The presence of Stuart Lancaster from such classics as Russ Meyer's Good Morning and Goodbye adds class to the proceedings, making the adventures of killer-stripper Lila quite an enjoyable view.

After the catchy, Nancy-Sinatra-sounding opening 'Lila' theme song runs through the credits, We meet pretty redhead stripper Lila (Susan Stewart) dancing in some smoky joint. After a skuzzball hippy-type makes a pass at her, she seems to like him and he buys her a drink. After some small talk over a game of pool, the two decide to take their 'connection' elsewhere. The guy's surprised when Lila wants to take her car and not his, to a deserted warehouse. Still, he goes along with it. They end up in the dusty, dark old place where Lila lights some candles and gets the drinks ready. She insists on doing one of her strip-dances for him, but strangely we only see her nude in silhouette. He agrees to this and eventually they get to the clinch. Lila puts a record on, and it's that Lila theme song again. After a sex scene - what seems an eternity of watching hands clutching bare backs - the guy offers Lila some LSD. After a few minutes she begins to moan 'oh wow', but soon enough has a very bad trip. Lights and evil faces swirl around and Lila hallucinates she's being squashed with bananas and cantaloupes! She'd already told the punk how much she hates bananas, as they LSD slowly took effect. Of course, the reason for our film is sex and mayhem, and now we're up to the mayhem part. Freaking out at the psychodelic onslaught, Lila grabs a screwdriver and attacks her lover. Mortally injuring him, she picks up a meatcleaver from a handy chunk of a wood, and hacks him to bits.

Lila then picks up another man at the club, older psychiatrist Frank (Stuart Lancaster). Frank seems to be aware there's something not quire right with Lila, but goes off with her anyway. Back at the murderess's warehouse - where she always goes because there she can be 'free' - Lila puts her record on again and does a slow strip, as thunder begins to surge in the background. It's quite an atmospheric scene. This time, Lila offers the LSD but Frank says no. After enduring a psychotically bad trip that propelled her to hack someone to pieces earlier, Lila takes that evil drug again, strangely enough. Soon, the bad hallucinations start again and poor old Frank is fairly quickly dispatched by screwdriver and meat-cleaver. Lila, in her drug haze, laughs hysterically and says how 'funny' the dismembered man looks.

The crazed woman has taken to disposing of the corpse-pieces by shoving them in a cardboard box, and leaving them for all the world to see. Of course, this sets the police on her trail and two bumbling cops trying to solve the crime. In the meantime, Lila takes a new guy, or is that victim, to her 'pad'. It's a more aggressive fellow this time around, and when Lila wants to start her games, the guy gets drunk and nasty. Still, in her LSD-induced state Lila gets the better of him with a garden hoe this time! Another box of body parts is found. The tide is beginning to turn, though. A real-estate agent takes a prospective buyer to the warehouse, and finds the cleaver and blood all over the floor. Promptly calling the fuzz, they decide to stake out the place. Soon enough, Lila turns up with another potential victim, who produces a handgun himself. Apparently he runs a liquor store and needs it for protection. As the two cops lie in wait, Lila begins to go through her strip-take-drugs-and-kill routine. As they realise what's going to happen, they spring into action. But the man, having been deprived of some Lila action, pulls his gun on them! A shootout ensues and one of our cast members will end up dead. Is Lila, our Mantis in Lace, about to meet her own end?

Mantis in Lace probably isn't really enough of anything to become a beloved exploitation gem to devotees of this type of film. There's a little blood and some nudity throughout, with a few strip-acts from other voluptous women for good measure. Still, nothing to rival the nakedness quotient of Street of a Thousand Pleasures. Having said that, this film is far superior in virtually every respect. I'm not sure what happened to Rostler's directorial skills over the years but what artistry is shown here, is all but lost in Pleasures. Mantis seems to enjoy exploring the seedy, smoke-filled underworld of strip clubs of the sixties. Strangely enough, while we often see the slender Lila dancing topless in the club, we never see her naked at all in the warehouse sex scenes. What gives? One question I had was about Lila's killing spree itself. When she first attacks the hippy-punk after the initial LSD trip, she grabs a handy meatcleaver just waiting to finish the job. Was she planning to kill any potential lover all along, even before the acid trip? Perhaps, I read in too much.

Technically Mantis in Lace is perfectly adequate and reasonably well-made. The 'Lila' theme may lock itself in your brain for days, as it did mine. Leslie Kovacks' photography is quite nice, especially in the warehouse murder scenes. Lila's fruit-vegetable-twisted faces LSD trips are depicted quite effectively, and may even approximate real drug experiences, I wouldn't know! I also loved the ominous, thunder-punctuated lead-up to Frank's death. Stuart Lancaster's presence is a plus for any film and he's no exception here, brining an intelligence to the film that's sadly cut short. I would have liked his character to have an ongoing role, but that's a bit much to expect from this type of flick. Susan Stewart as Lila is perfectly pleasant-looking but she's got an odd way of delivering lines, almost a thick European accent at times. I guess it sort of adds to her 'otherwordliness'. Not a huge complaint, more of an observation.

So, if you're looking for a nice, humble sleaze-film that relishes it's vintage strip-club environs, go no further than Mantis in Lace. It doesn't drench the screen with gore or even that much sex, but there's something quite effective about the whole demented little endeavour.

© Boris Lugosi, 2010.

Review of John Frankenheimer's Seconds

Sat, 23 Jan 2010 23:06:44 GMT

This would have to be one of the most horrifying films ever made. Not in a conventional horror-film type of way, but in a horror that we can all recognise inside ourselves. Often regarded as Rock Hudson's greatest performance, Seconds will stay with you, whether you love or hate it by film's end. Initially booed at the Cannes Film Festival years ago, director John Frankenheimer's paranoid gem has gone on to take it's rightful place as a classic piece of cinema from any genre. Seconds also has one of the most gruelling endings to be found in any film, let alone one from 1966.

Middle-aged everyman Arthur Hamilton (John Randolph) lives in a suffocating, repetitive rut. On one of the days in his travels to and from his dull banking job, a mysterious man - of whom we only see the top half of his face as photographed by the brilliant James Wong Howe - gives him an address on a piece of paper, nothing more. Arthur soon finds himself taking calls from someone he insists is dead, an old friend college friend named Charley. Arthur's wife Emily (Frances Reid) quizzes him about the late-night calls, but he gets defensive and uncommunicative. At one point Charley asks him 'what have you got now?' to which Arthur, defeated, doesn't know. He agrees to go to the address Charley's been pushing him to go to. He soon finds it's just a detour, but the old guy running what looks like a laundry business gives him the right address, at a meat- packing plant. Of course, it's just a front for something much much complex and mysterious. While waiting to meet the proper people, Arthur falls into a delerium-dream where he attacks a young woman. Later, seemingly waking up, Arthur's met by an old man who explains just what this company, in fact offers.

In exchange for a sizeable amount of money, the company provides you with a faked death - supplying the corpse which the public will think is you - as well as extensive plastic surgery and an exercise regimen, the sum total of which will leave you a completely new person, with a new life to start over. As Arthur hesitates, thinking about his life and what he will be leaving behind, the old man (Will Geer) shows a film of him attacking the woman for real! Drugged and compelled by autosuggestion, Arthur has created his own source of blackmail. Though furious, Arthur is soon convinced to sign into the procedure, breaking down as the old man reassures him it is the right thing to do. After months of plastic surgery - including a new voicebox and fingerprints - and bizarre exercises, Arthur emerges with the identity of Antiochus 'Tony' Wilson, a successful artist living in a Malibu, California beach community. Now he's played by RocK Hudson, who's actually a good match for John Randolph. It's not that much of a stretch to see them as the same person and apparently Hudson studied Randolph's mannerisms to make the changeover seamless. We learn that 'Tony's' faked death was caused by a fire in a hotel as relayed by the newspaper.

It's a strange new life for Tony as he has little effort to make, and a manservant supplied by the company to ease him into things. On the beach he meets Nora Marcus (Salome Jens) who takes him to a wine festival. As the revellers get steadily more drunk and end up jumping naked into a vat to crush a multitude of grapes, Tony disapproves when Nora disrobes and jumps in with them. I was quite startled by the amound of nudity shown for a big-budget film of 1966. Eventually he gets dragged in, and ends up having the time of his life, which is quite touching when you think of what a clamped-down life the man lived. Sometime later he and Nora get closer and Nora professes her love for him. Tony throws a cocktail party for his neighbours but due to his steadily drunker state - apparently Hudson got genuinely sozzled for this scene - he lets slip bits of information about his past and refers to a man named Hamilton. This stream of forbidden truths causes two unhappy revelations. Nora gets furious with him and asked him who the hell he thinks he is. A group of revellers carries him away and holds him down in an attempt to quieten him. It seems that these neighbours are 'reborns' as well, and Nora is also working for the company, just a now-hostile employee that was meant to ease him into his second life. Tony is heartbroken by this and we can't help but feel his pain - Hudson's acting is excellent in this scene.

Tony/Arthur is now one mixed-up person. Against the rules, he visits the wife he left behind, claiming to be a recent art friend that she never met. The conversation becomes personal and Emily ends up mentioning that Arthur was 'dead' long before the actual death, and that the marriage had basically been an empty one. Tony now approaches the company to go through the whole process again, to gain yet another new face and this time get it right, making his own choices with the new persona he wants to adopt. The company basically agrees, as long as he supplies the name of a new dissatisfied person who will be become their next customer. Tony refuses, knowing this will slow down his own 're-birth'. He meets up with Charley (Murray Hamilton), whom at first he doesn't recognise. Charley confesses that he too made a mess of his second life and is now waiting for a third. Tony tells Charley that all his life people have taught him what to want and feel, including all the meaningless material possessions that cluttered his world. That the pattern repeated itself in his reborn life because the company made all his decisions for him. This time it will be different. Charley is led away to an uncertain fate.

That night, Tony wakes up to find the old man - the boss of the company - at his bedside. He says how sorry he is that Tony couldn't make his dream come true. Tony says that maybe he never had a dream, and the old man concurs - that maybe that was the problem all along. The man says that they have a spot for him in the operating area, that they're ready for him now. Tony protests that he's not ready, that he hasn't planned his new life yet. The old man is comforting, yet suddenly a priest comes along to read his last rights as he's strapped to a stretcher and wheeled away. Screaming and struggling, gagged with a rubber hose, Tony knows just what's about to happen, remembering that the company always needs a supply of corpses ... What follows is probably one of the most harrowing endings of any film. Yet it's also one which, even for just a couple of seconds, allows us to see the dream that perhaps Arthur Hamilton should have had all along, but realised far too late.

John Frankenheimer has made one hell of a film in Seconds. There aren't many people who won't respond to it in some manner. Who can't relate to wanting to start life all over again and get it right this time? The early scene where Arthur and Emily begin to make love and then just stop, completely losing heart in the passionless act, is uncomfortable to say the least. John Randolph seems to have a permanent sheen of sweat in his Arthur Hamilton scenes, displaying his inner turmoil through his eyes. Arthur Hamilton/Tony Wilson's nightmare is one we can all become involved in because we probably all want a happy ending. Maybe some of us, put into this situation, could make a go if it, who knows? Yet Tony is ultimately an empty person and can't get it right with a new face and new lifestyle. How many people undergoing plastic surgery still feel as self-loathing on the inside when they recover from the surgeon's blade? The acting from all concerned is bravura on all fronts. Rock Hudson will send chills up your spine, I promise. Whether it's the sorrow of losing someone you thought loved you to the pain of realising your past life was empty, to his final agonising fate - it's almost too hard to watch some of these scenes. Salome Jens as Nora, and Frances Reid as Emily Hamilton also impress with their small, but pivotal roles as almost polar opposites.

Technically, Seconds is a wonder as well. Jerry Goldsmith's score is supremely chilling, experimental and haunting. James Wong Howe's magnificent black-and-white photography, with its fish-eye lenses, bizarre angles and distortions, should leave no doubt what an artist the man was. Saul Bass's frightening opening credits are as bizzare and twisted as any I've seen - with close-ups of bandaged faces, eyes, mouthes and noses all spiralling and mutating over Goldsmith's musical terror. Frankenheimer directs with full force on all fronts, taking us to lovely highs with Tony meeting Nora, to plumb the absolute depths of human experience. No man is as lonely as Tony, a failure over two lives, being wheeled out to face his final fate.

It's funny, I can watch films where chainsaws dis-assemble people into their constituent parts and walk away thinking about the evening's dinner, yet a thriller with deeply human drama such Seconds still leaves me rattled when I think about it. It's a horror film which contains true horror, a personal terror most people wouldn't even want to think about for too long. I guess one of the main purposes of art is to confront it's audience, and this film does that in spades. So I call Seconds a nightmarish work of art, and I'm glad to finally be able to write about it after all these years. Not a film you'd watch on an annual basis for the good feelings it evokes, but if you love pure cinema, well worthy of your collection.

© Boris Lugosi, 2010.

Review of Succubus (1968)

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 13:03:32 GMT

One of the more popular views on Spanish director Jesus Franco is that he was a talentless hack who rushed productions through on next-to-nothing budgets with minimal finesse. Well, I'd like to offer Succubus in Franco's defence. With a marvellously dreamlike atmosphere and a compelling presence in Janine Reynaud, this film's one of his best, if not the best. Let's see if I can entice you to watch the delerium and join the Franco fold.

We jump straight into perverse strangeness as Lorna Green (Reynaud) approaches two bound, semi-clad victims, a male and a female. Lorna wields a short whip but never uses it. As Jazz music swells, she kills the girl with a knife and then seduces, then kills the man. All three bow and smile to the nightclub crowd as it was all an avante-garde act. During the act we see, superimposed over Lorna's face, the face of a man, Ralf Drawes (director Adrian Hoven) who claims that Lorna is his perfect companion, "A Devil on Earth." This enigmatic man will come and go throughout the film. More on him later. We rejoin Lorna and her boyfriend William Mulligan (Jack Taylor) backstage, wherein the slender beauty does a sassy strip for him, although he doesn't respond to her advances and eventually they both fall into a deep, frustrated sleep. Lorna awaken into a soft-focus dream state, and leaves William asleep, to don a robe and cross over a mysterious bridge. There she's greeted by black-robed monks, escorted to a car and driven to a castle. Upon entering the castle a strange man plays her a serenade on a piano. She disrobes, kisses her own reflection and dons a beautiful white dress. Reynaud is a striking-looking actress and wears a stylish gown exceedingly well. Leaving the castle again and driving off, she meets a man in a bar known as Admiral Kapp, played by the redoubtable Franco regular, Howard Vernon. As a naked bartender mixes cocktails, the two play bizarre word-association games, dance together and end up in bed. The word games begin anew and end with murder as Lorna drives a hatpin into the Admiral's face.

Lorna wakes up the following morning back into a hard-focus world, next to William with no memory of what had taken place. They go for a walk in town and find a funeral procession which strangely fascinates her. She goes into the chapel, wanting to look at the corpse. Removing it's veil, Lorna screams as she sees Admiral Kapp with a hatpin bloodily driven into his eye. Later, after recovering, Lorna and William join a bizarre party, which of course has a dwarf in attendance. One of the party-goers reads from a book as the other revellers, Lorna and William included, are given what appears to be sugar cubes, eaten over a mirror under their chins! The man reads on, describing a greek goddess who is actually a 'devil' among humans, feeding on them to satisfy her dark desires. As he reads, Lorna's features grow harsh and her makeup looks extremely heavy. In a drug-induced stupour, she crawls around on the floor as the other partygoers join her, barking like dogs as the midget dons a dog costume to lead the crowd. This is one weird party. William sobers up and drags Lorna away from the revels, slapping her in a jealous rage. We next see that they have made love, with apparently all forgiven.

William and Lorna seem to renew their relationship, taking walks in parks and so forth. Still, he does tell her a strange story about a princess possessed by a devil who kills her prince. At a nightclub, the mysterious Ralf Drawes approaches the couple again, calling Lorna "The Countess". She tells him to go away, but he tells her to never forget who she is, and that he is "in control". Lorna and William argue after this encounter and he leaves. Lorna slips into her dream-world again, being interviewed about what monsters scare her, including Dracula, Frankenstein, Godzilla and finally Ralf Drawes. She finds them all "quite sweet", except for Drawes. On a cliff next to the castle, Lorna meets a blonde girl whom she takes back to her room. They play dress-ups ina room full of creepy-looking mannequins. They begin to kiss, but Lorna is again overtaken by the urge to kill. As mannequins come to life and walk toward the screaming girl, Lorna stabs her to death. She wakes up for real in the castle and find the dead girl. The confused woman quickly jumps in to a car and drives back to her normal life.

Williams drives around the city, pining for Lorna, hoping he can get over her as time heals his wound. No sooner does he return to his apartment than he find Lorna lying on the floor. He asks her how she got in, and she tells him enigmatically that she can get in anywhere, and get anything she wants. They drive off together, with William questioning the nature of their love, indeed love itself. Nonetheless, he's ecstatic that they're back together. Lorna promises to be his forever and stay with him "until the end." Sometime later, William meets up with Ralf Drawes as Lorna enters the nightclub alone. Ralf assures William that everything will be all right, that he will finally be free. Williams asks Ralf to come to his nightclub when he hears shouts. Meanwhile, Lorna finds the two actors from the first nightclub scene, tied up. William watches murderous urges overtake her again and though they beg her not to, Lorna kills them both with a knife, then awakens from her trance and flees the scene. Smoking a cigarette, William coolly inspects the scene and leaves. He returns to his apartment to find Lorna naked on a couch and waiting for him. Knowing it means certain death, the entranced man cannot resists and embraces her. She stabs him in the back of the neck.

Lorna joins Ralf, and he drives her to the castle. He promises her true peace and rest, and that he will guard her in her sleep. A voice-over, probably Ralf, tells us that Lorna is truly Faustine, the devil character from the book we have been hearing excerpts from all through the film.

With a literate script by Pier A. Caminnecci, Franco has provided a visual and aural feast with Succubus. As Lorna, Janine Reynaud is no doe-eyed seventeen-year old. I believe she was in her late thirties when playing this part, and although her body is slim and young-looking, there is experience and world-weariness in her unusual face. I can't really imagine anyone else in the part except perhaps for Soledad Miranda. The other actors acquit themselves well, with Hoven and Taylor playing the two men in her life with intensity and gusto. I enjoy Howard Vernon in any film and Succubus is no exception. Admiral Kapp gets a memorable death and his wordplay with Lorna is fun to behold. Franco explores the yearning for love, the attraction to oblivion and a loss of self in relationships. The logical extension of this is death at the hands of your lover. We're never really sure which is the dream-state, the real world inhabited by William and the nightclub, or the world presided over by Ralf. Eventually these worlds collide and merge, forming a new one where Lorna has no control and must kill in the 'real' world as a devil on Earth, where in the first scenes it was but an act. Franco's visuals are top-notch, be it the groovy nightclubs with their cool jazz and bizarre 'floor shows', or the blurred world of Lorna's dreams, peopled by living mannequins, mirrors and the ever present ocean. Of course, as with all Franco, music plays a large part and we switch from jazz to classical in a heartbeat. Script-wise we get quotes ranging from Spillane to De Sade when exploring Lorna's 'condition'. This is a film to listen to as well as watch.

For those of you requiring blood and nudity with your cult viewing, Succubus will go some way in satisfying your needs, if Franco's stylish production isn't enough. Reynaud often disrobes, although there's no outright sex scenes. There's a smattering of blood as Lorna kills her paramours, although you'd never call this a gore film. It's a mood piece, as unpredictable as Franco's jazz music, probably even following the same structure and flow. In the right frame of mind, you can allow Succubus to ascend the pantheon of classic cinema as a true and unusual gem. It's a pity Janine Reynaud didn't become more of a star, as she has a real presence and could have essayed all sorts of roles, sensual or otherwise. Nonetheless, she left a wonderful example of her abilities with Succubus and any anti-Francophiles should take a look at this film, hopefully balancing their opinion out with its mysteries and visual pleasures.

© Boris Lugosi, 2009.

Review of Torso (1973)

Mon, 01 Jun 2009 11:27:47 GMT

The Giallo genre. One of the key elements of this fascinating set of films is the central mystery of who's doing the killing. Well, to better explore what I love about this little classic, I'm going to reveal the killer's identity during the course of this review. So, if not spoiling the ending is important to you, at least you have been warned. Director Sergio Martino has a nice resume behind him, including Island of the Fishmen, Slave of the Cannibal God and Your Vice Is a Closed Room and Only I Have the Key. Great titles! Torso has gotten a lot of bad press over the years, but I can't really understand why. I feel it succeeds in making you feel genuine pity for it's crazed killer, as well as delighting the senses with a multitude of visual delights, and not just a bevy of naked women! Let's board that flight to Italy, and soak up the beauty and horror.

Our first view of Torso is a stylishly filmed credit-sequence threesome with a man and two women, oh, and a doll. Later we meet Jane, an art student in Rome, played by pretty British actress Suzy Kendall. Jane's made quite a nice network of friends, including the debonair Professor Franz (John Richardson) and fellow student Daniela (Tina Aumont). Daniela's been having some trouble with a male student named Stefano (Roberto Bisacco) who's been hounding her for years. We also meet Daniela's friends Flo (Patrizia Adiutori) and Carol (Conchita Airoldi). Flo decides to head off with her boyfriend and the next thing we see is them necking in a car under a bridge. We briefly see the obviously troubled Stefano spying on Flo and her paramour, then he dissapears. Suddenly Flo becomes aware of being watched. They look up and a man in a crude ski mask is watching them through the window. Flo's guy jumps out of the car, and gives chase. After waiting some time and becoming increasingly nervous, Flo leaves the car to investigate. She finds her boyfriend with his throat slit, and no sooner does she makes this discovery than the same masked man strangles her to death with a scarf. He then rips her blouse open, and stabs her in the chest. Carol finds out about Flo's murder when Daniela shows her the headline in the newspaper. Carol takes it badly, and runs away.

Jane bumps into Franz in the city, and the two have a nice time together. Jane is clearly attracted to the stylish professor. Franz promises the young girl he'll get opera tickets for her and the two part for the time being, romance obviously being in the air. Stefano has picked up a hooker but he's clearly distracted, and when the girl says she'll charge him whether they have sex or not, Stefano flies into a rage and threatens to kill her. She flees his pad in terror. We have the first of our possible killers, folks. Carol is still acting distracted, and two of her male friends pressure her to ride off with them on their motorbikes. They end up in some abandoned warehouse with a bunch of hippy-bikers, who seem to be having an orgy of sorts. Stoned out of her mind, she lets the guys fondle her breasts, but when she asks one of them to take his clothes off, burns him with the joint. Carol then runs off into the fog-shrouded forest, with the guys enraged, and in hot pursuit on their bikes. Eventually they crash their bikes in a swampy patch and give up the chase. Someone else hasn't though. The hooded man pursues her through the mud, and finally corners her. Carol's drowned by the vicious killer, then has her eyes gouged out and is stabbed. Not a nice way to depart this mortal coil.

Shocked by carol's death, Daniela makes it clear to a number of people that she has a clue as to who the killer is. No sooner does she do this than she receives a threatening phone call from an obviously psychotic caller, telling her to keep out of the case. In a side-plot we see the killer murder a scarf-vendor who was trying to blackmail him, as he knew the police were aware of the type of scarf at each murder. The weaselly vendor is smashed into a wall, and has his head crushed by the murderer's car in one of the bloodiest scenes in the film. Still, Jane, Daniela and a couple of other friends decide to escape the horror encircling them and have a holiday at a country villa owned by Flo's uncle. We're shown in a brief scene that Flo's sleazy uncle harbours incestous feeling for her, but the girls don't seem to notice. The locals ogle them as they enter the village, and the 'village idiot' is particularly fascinated by them. Director Martino gives us ample opportunity to leer at them as well, as they insist on sunbathing naked and skinny dipping a number of times. I guess this is what women get up to, when they go on holiday. In addition, the two other girls are lesbians, not afraid to show their desire for each other in the bedroom. During one skinny dipping episode, Daniela believes she's spotted Stefano stalking them in the woods. The other girls don't believe her. It's true though, as we know Stefano has followed them all the way into the countryside. Later on, Jane (whom we never see naked) falls down a flight of stairs and twists her ankle. The handsome local doctor, Roberto (Luc Merenda) prescribes her some sleeping pills to get her through the night. Jane sleeps peacefully, but all is hardly well in the house. The girls hear a knock on the door, and open it to Stefano. Daniela screams as Stefano pitches forward, dead. Fade-out. We next see Stefano being buried in an unmarked grave.

Jane awakens the next day. It's a beautiful morning, but the country house is strangely quiet. Investigating further, she's horrified to find the corpses of her two friends, brutally murdered. She spins around at a noise and Daniela falls forward and dies, bloodily, in her arms. No sooner does her mind reel at the horrible events in the house, than the door begins to open. Jane quickly retreats under a staircase, having nowhere else to hide. The killer has returned to his victims with a large hacksaw, and Jane screams silently - desperate to not be discovered - as he methodically saws off the arms, legs and head of one of the girls. Suzy Kendall's acting is a tour-de-force of gruelling terror and the film's worth watching, acting-wise, for this scene alone. We don't see a lot of gore or actual dismemberment, it's just shown through quick cuts, and we certainly know what's going on. If that wasn't enough, the killer leaves with the body parts in a large cloth bag and proceeds to lock the house from outside. Jane is trapped. Bars on all the windows intended to keep local thiefs out keep her doubly imprisoned.

Jane struggles to escape as the killer returns to saw up the remainder of his victims, to no avail. Eventually she resorts to flashing sunlight from a mirror into the village, in an attempt to bring someone's attention. Finally she thinks she's found a key, and a way out, but it's actually a trap left by the murderer, who's cottoned on to the fact that's someone was left behind alive in the house. It's suddenly revealed who the killer is - it's Professor Franz, all along. As the madman explains, when he was a child, his brother fell off a cliff while reaching for a girl's porcelain doll lying precariousy near the edge. The girl had agreed to 'show them hers' if they retrieved the doll. The trauma lingered with Franz for years, then Carol and Flo both seduced Franz into the threesome we saw at the start of the film, then threatened to blackmail him afterwards. This threat unhinged Franz completely, and drove him to strangle and mutilate those he saw as females who manipulate to get what they want. As, he rants, they were 'only dolls, stupid dolls' to be killed and broken into pieces. Having killed Flo and Carol, he tracked Daniela, who was beginning to work out the killer's true identity, as well as anyone else who was a threat, to the villa. Now, although he sees Jane as 'pure', she now knows the truth. In a frenzy, and now believing she's as bad as anyone else, Franz attacks Jane and begins to throttle her. Who should show up but Roberto, alerted by Jane's flashing mirror. Franz releases his grip and attacks Roberto, the fight leading into a barn. Who will survive, and what will be left of them?

I'm not really sure why any fans of Giallo cinema - or just plain horror - wouldn't like Torso. It's got everything required by this type of film. The masked, gloved killer, the central mystery, beautiful women often seen in various stages of undress. The music's fairly pleasant but non-descript, but I loved the photography and Italian scenery. You've got art galleries, Rome itself, and the beautiful countryside and villages. Sergio Martino's inserted much atmosphere with the various killings, particularly Carol's, with the mist-shrouded swamp. Also with each murder we get glimpses of a child's hand reaching to poke the ever-present doll's eyes out, this almost subliminal image making sense at the big reveal. The ski-masked killer's an effective-looking figure of horror as well, with enough of his deranged expression showing through to evoke even more unease. There's nudity aplenty for fans of the female form, of which I know there are a few out there. The gore is actually minimal - Martino achieves a sense of blood and dismemberment with quick shots and edits, and even more with Suzy Kendall's horrified reactions to them. This leads me to what I love most about Torso, and that's the acting. While never disrobing in this film, Suzy Kendall grounds the film as it's 'final girl' of sorts. She looks convincingly afraid and horrified at what's going on around her, and also appropriately revulsed and appalled at silently witnessing Franz saw up her friends. Kendall's also very beautiful, but in a fragile way, which helps convince us of her 'female-in-danger' status. Now, why did I reveal the killer? Well, I really wanted to complement John Richardson on his acting efforts as the Franz character, particularly in the closing scenes. We really get a sense of his pain at the childhood trauma which drove him insane. He's still a victim of sorts, and even through the killer's mask we can see his suffering, rage and anxiety as he silences and mutilates the 'dolls' that torment him so. Is Torso a work of misogyny? I don't think we're meant to identify with Franz, maybe take some sort of pity along with our revulsion, but not cheer him on. It's true, we're given ample female flesh to stare at, but it's virtually compulsory in this type of film. All the locals who drool at the visiting women are shown to be buffoons and simpletons. Jane is presented as kind-hearted and three-dimensional enough to like and cheer on, we want her to survive and not be reduced to yet another 'torso'.

I can only recommend Torso to fans of Italian, and horror cinema. It's a stylish production that leaves you with a bit to think about after it's over. A visual feast of flesh, blood, angst and scenery, it's also scores high in the acting stakes which makes it doubly worth tracking down.

© Boris Lugosi, 2009.

Review of Ganja and Hess (1973)

Wed, 20 May 2009 12:21:46 GMT

If any forgotten film is worth championing, it would have to be Ganja and Hess. I'm a bit loathe to call it a blaxploitation film. We're not talking Blackenstein here! No, Bill Gunn's classic could best be described as a black art-horror film. Even the term vampire doesn't quite do our protagonists justice. Immortal blood-addicts could be a more apt description. The central performance from Duane Jones of Night of the Living Dead fame is also excellent, and adds to the status of this film as a must-watch. Let's take a look at our sad, blood-lusting Doctor Green and see what makes him tick.

As our opening credits tell us, "Doctor Hess Green ... Doctor of Anthropology, Doctor of Geology ... While studying the ancient Black civilization of Myrthia ... was stabbed by a stranger three times ... one for God the Father, one for the Son ... and one for the Holy Ghost ... stabbed with a dagger, diseased from that ancient culture whereupon he became addicted and could not die ... nor could he be killed." We appear to be launched straight into Professor Hess Green's (Jones) plight. Still, no matter his condition, he still attends church, with gospel-fuelled sermons run by his chauffeur, Reverend Williams (Sam Waymon), who helms his Rolls-Royce. The good Reverend's opening narration implies that he knows about Hess's condition but feels pity for him as a victim. Trying to keep his life normal, Hess is given a new research assistant in the form of George Meda. It doesn't take long for Hess and we viewers to realise that George is completely unstable. From getting blind drunk and sitting in a tree - refusing to come down - to pointing a gun at himself in a mirror, Hess soon has a crazy person on his hands. Letting George sleep it off, Hess is attacked in the middle of the night by his guest, who stabs him three times with the selfsame Myrthian dagger. Now, I'm not sure if this is the incident that changes Hess, or if it's already happened before the film starts. Either way, Hess's wounds heals instantly. In the meantime, the crazed, distraught George has taken a final bath, stands nude in the bathroom and shoots himself dead in the chest. Hess finds the dead man, and is compelled to lap up the blood on the floor.

We move along in Hess's addiction. He stages fires in waste-paper bins at the local blood-bank and steals some blood-bags. He goes to the seedy part of town and hires a prostitute. They try to murder and rob him, but he ends up killing them both, being immune to bullets. In a gruesome scene, he slits the throat of one of the corpses and we know what he's going to do with that gushing blood. Through all of this, Hess is visited by his conscience, as well as visions of a Myrthian Queen and her acolytes, beckoning him to join them. African chanting accompanies Hess every time he becomes tempted. Into this maelstrom of misery comes Ganja Meda (Marlene Clark), George's unwitting widow. Ganja calls Hess and demands to be allowed to stay with him while she looks for George. Hess reluctantly agrees and takes the pushy woman in. Sure enough, they hit it off and soon become lovers in a series of sensual scenes. Hess's long-suffering butler Archie (Leonard Jackson) has to put up with the new lady of the house's demands and constant jibes, but Hess sees something in her. While Hess is away, Ganja finds George's frozen body in a forbidden wine cellar. Initially distraught, she calms down and is comforted by Hess, who explains his situation. Ganja tells the story of her childhood, and we realise that she was totally neglected by her mother. Since then, she's looked out for number one and we can only sympathise after her story. Accepting Hess's explanations about George's fate, Ganja falls further in love with him and the two marry in a small, poolside ceremony. They drag George's corpse, wrapped in plastic, to a shallow grave.

After some time, in am embrace with Ganja, Hess comments that he wants to keep her forever. Later, after making love, Ganja lies on the bed in a mess of blood and we can see that he has killed her. In a sequence of hallucinatory scenes, Hess converts Ganja to the immortal blood-drinking fold. We see the good doctor in full Myrthian costume stabbing Ganja with the fateful dagger, out in a field. Ganja kissing a rose, only to drip blood from her mouth and scream. Still further in time, Ganja recovers from the 'conversion' and has her first glass of blood. Initially horrified at her new life, Ganja quickly adapts, although it bothers her that they are always cold. Ganja and Hess soon take another victim, a male dancer that she seduces in another sex scene, and whom both consume. However, though both are now immortal and could live their blood-drinking romance forever, all is not well. Hess is beginning to suffer the torments of his conscience. Reading through the writings of Myrthia, he finds a way to end their cursed existence.

The key lies with the Christian cross. As the writings tell, any object of belief that reflects a story of goodness sacrificed, when made to form a shadow over their heart, will kill them. Hess is a Christian, so the cross will be the object of his salvation through death. He wants Ganja to come with him, but she's hesitant, having found new pleasures and eternal life. Hess attends church, the same church his friend Reverend Williams presides over. Williams gives an inspirational sermon, exhorting his flock to give themselves over to God and find peace. Hess is finally convinced, being overcome with divine raptures. He runs through a field, seeing visions of both pain and salvation. A short while later we see that he has set up his own execution, sitting in front of a large, dangling cross with his chest exposed. Again, he pleads with Ganja to join him, and again she holds back. Hess feels the pain, the ecstacy and the relief of the cleansing death that's approaching. It's a slow demise, but Hess doesn't remove himself from the deadly shadow. Finally Hess Green falls dead, freed from the curse of the dagger. Ganja is left behind, to decide her own fate. Will she find another lover and continue her blood-drinking ways, or join her husband and be free of Myrthian immortality?

Director Gunn has fashioned a modern masterpiece with Ganja and Hess. To begin with, Duane Jones excels as the tragic doctor. Without resorting to histrionics, Jones conveys the silent misery the stoic semi-vampire is going through. You can palpably feel his relief, when the shadow of the cross falls on his heart. Marlene Clark as Ganja is a complex character. Sexy and likeable in one scene, domineering, manipulative and bullying in the next. Ganja still comes across as a victim once she enters Hess's world. It's up to us to decide whether her final decision is justified, and making the best of a bad situation. Technically the film itself is also filled with contradictions. Some shots are immaculate with their compositions, dissolves and overlays. Others are ragged, with actors not even properly aligned or composed in the shot. The soundtrack is a wonderful mix of gospel and soul. African chanting permeates the film when Hess is under siege from his addiction. If sex and blood is what you're after, well, it's there in Ganja and Hess, but not in an exploitative way. I gave a genuine flinch when we see the pimp's throat slit in extreme closeup, but it's obviously meant to convey what Hess is experiencing. The sex scenes are erotic in an artistic way, but Clark's undeniably pleasant form isn't dwelled on for great lengths of time - it's all in the context of the story!

The film is also hallucinatory at times. Along with the ever present Myrthian tribesfolk, there's a masked white man who haunts Hess's thoughts. I'm not sure what role he plays, other than 'impending doom', but his decadent presence adds to the general weirdness. Then there's Gunn's George Meda, who's a rambling, unpredictable neurotic who eventually caves in to an inner madness. Ganja and Hess hits new heights in artistic expression for black cinema - it's probably up there with Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song and Superfly rather thank the simple pleasures of Coffy and unnumerable other Blaxploitation gems. It's a two-fold pity both Bill Gunn and Duane Jones made so few films, and nothing again like this one.

So to wrap up, if you're in the mood for a superlatively artistic achievement in black cinema and subtle horror, you may want to spend the night with Ganja and Hess. If you're looking for fun Blaxploitation with all the trimmings, I'd probably look elsewhere. This one is deadly serious, but succeeds completely within it's own fine parameters.

© Boris Lugosi, 2009.

Review of Invasion of the Bee Girls

Wed, 20 May 2009 12:19:51 GMT

A team-up between big bad William Smith from many a classic biker film, and the pneumatic Victoria Vetri, the bikini-clad cave-girl from When Dinosaurs ruled the Earth, would seem to be required viewing for fans of cult cinema. Invasion of the Bee Girls does end up being an enjoyable view, although with sound production values perhaps ensuring it doesn't go too far with it's exploitation elements. We're kind of talking the Stepford Wives with a touch of sexploitation, this time with the women actually loving their partners to death.

Something's wrong in Peckham, California. It's men are dropping dead of congestive heart failure, seemingly brought on by sexual exhaustion. One of the deceased was John Grubowsky, a bacteriologist working at the government-sponsored Brandt Research Institute. This calls the attention of Neil Agar, (Smith) a security agent with the State Department, who's sent to investigate. During the course of snooping around he meets the laboratory’s sassy head librarian, Julie Zorn, (the buxom Vetri). They have a obvious rapport from the beginning and she decides to help solve the mystery. He also begins interviewing the firm’s leading scientists, who seem to be a bunch of middle-aged lotharios from all accounts.

The local sheriff, Captain Peters (Cliff Osmond) calls a town meeting as the "deaths by sex" begin to accumulate. The Laboratory’s leading sex researcher, Henry Murger, (Wright King) urges the townsfolk to practice sexual abstinence – a concept greeted by howls of derision by the locals. Later, Neil and Julie arrange a meeting with Murger afterwards to discuss his theories as to what's causing the deaths, only to look on horrified as he's run over and killed by an unseen driver. Further snooping around by Julie ends up with a rape attempt by a gang of toughs, but Neil intervenes and punches them all out. The sole purpose of this scene appears to be to show us Vetri's ample breasts, and Smith show us his tough-guy credentials. Once Neil and Julie have recovered from this, further investigation of Murger’s life reveals a secret room in his house, concealing sexual paraphernalia and Murger’s gay lover, Joe. After some tough-guying from Neil, Joe admits he saw Murger driving off with an unknown woman sometime before his death.

As the death-count grows, the military impose a complete quarantine of the town and a curfew. Still, the lothario-scientists continue their lecherous ways. One of them, the married Herb Kline, (Ben Hammer) is approached by Susan Harris, (Anitra Ford) an entomologist working on a project involving bees. The scientists describe her as an “iceberg,” yet still she flirts with Kline and invites him over for dinner. Susan appears seductive but seems to place an odd emphasis on feeding him a sweet, sugary desert. They begin to have sex but soon he sees her pitch-black, shining eyes - we see the insect-like compound vision from her point of view - and Kline soon dies of the same heart attack that claims the others.

Putting the clues together, Neil begins studying the sexual patterns of insects. Seeking information about the mating habits of bees, he confronts Susan at her lab, but she successfuly fobs him off. She then continues her bizarre project, having tricked Klein's wife Nora - still ignorant of her husband's death - into her clutches. Holed up in her lab, she places Nora into a mysterious trance, then Susan and other mutated "Bee Girls" cover her in some kind of white glop. Once completely covered, they place her in a chamber and watch as irradiated bees swarm all over her. Once the bees depart, she's peeled out of the white cocoon and emerges as a naked Bee Girl, with black compound eyes and a drive to fatally mate with males just like the others. When Klein's dead body is discovered the next morning, Captain Peters goes to inform her Nora, only to have her unsuccessfully attempt to seduce him, wearing the sunglasses that need to disguise the black eyes of a Bee Girl.

His fine detective mind having solved much of what's taking place, Neil summons the scientists together to present his theory. The head of the diagnostics department, Aldo Ferrara,(Andre Philippe) is the most willing to listen. Later, at a funeral for one of the many victims, Neil and Julie bring a radiation detector, which picks up the gamma radiation coming from the small group of sunglassed Bee Girls who happen to be there. Moving to kill anyone who suspects what they're up to, Ferrara dies during a visit by Susan, who then lures Julie to her lab to be transformed. When Neil discovers Ferrara’s body, he realizes what's going on. Racing to the lab, he interrupts the women as they begin the process of turning the naked Julie into one of their number. Susan threatens to kill the hypnotized Julie, unless he leaves. At the last second, Neil pulls out a gun and shoots at the banks of flashing machinery. He manages to carry the naked Julie away, but will they both escape the crazed Bee Girls as the Lab begins to explode, or is it all over for our man-devouring insect ladies?

Director Denis Sanders has fashioned a pleasant little night's diversion, but compared to some of the films covered in these pages, it's a pretty lightweight effort. William Smith is a presence but playing a thoughtful good guy - albeit with small outbreaks of toughness - probably doesn't utilise he strengths. Of all the actors, Victoria Vetri seems to be enjoying herself the most, playing the Librarian with sass and attitude. Being a Librarian myself, it's nice to see the profession played a bit differently to the standard cliche. It's a pity her stunning body isn't shown off more - her main nude scene is under blueish flickering lights and very brief. Anitra Ford is an interesting presence with a slender body, a sly smile and heavy-lidded eyes. She's not a typical Hollywood beauty, having a more quirky look that suits her villain role here. Her sex scene with the balding Ben Hammer is odd, really just her teasing and rubbing up against him. I guess if you're a mutant insect-woman that's how you do things before you kill your man. The whole converting women to Bee Girls project is never really explained. Susan never gives a single reason as to why she explored the whole experiment in the first place. Still, I guess we wouldn't have a film if she hadn't.

I suspect that under a different director we could have had a more extreme example of exploitation cinema here with Invasion of the Bee Girls.Under director Sanders it's well-made, clearly with a decent budget used on competent actors, decent sets for the laboratory and some nice cinematography. Because of that though, they couldn't go too far with softcore sex scenes or graphic gore - although Susan's ultimate fate is a little jolting and unexpected. As a result some scenes feel cut short, or diluted to some degree. This quibble aside, Invasion is still a lot of fun. It's nice to see the chemistry between Smith and Vetri, and we can lament Anitra Ford's short career as she's a fun evil vixen in this one.

Definitely worth at least one look, but you may not want to visit the Bee Girls again, unless you're a diehard William Smith fan.

© Boris Lugosi, 2009.

Review of The Defilers

Mon, 18 May 2009 09:17:13 GMT

We may have the exploitation film-making dream team at the helm tonight. With The Defilers, you've got the redoubtable Lee Frost directing, David Friedman writing the thing and Byron Mabe as the lead 'Defiler'! Does this humble, black-and-white roughie live up to expectations, and make a lasting impression? Well, for 1965, this is quite intense stuff. A cool jazz score, some decent acting and a genuinely grimy, degenerate atmosphere all add up to something quite memorable. Let's descend into these twisted punks' seedy basement, and see exactly what's going down.

Carl Walker, Junior (Mabe) and Jameison (Jim) Marsh (Jerome Eden) are a couple of rampant, semi-beatnik hedonists. Living on the outskirts of Hollywood, they've managed to assemble a group of willing women they indulge their carnal desires with. Hanging out at the beach, Marsh seems to be more inclined to romance and monogamy than his dominating friend. He has a more solid relationship with one of the girls, Ellen (Carol Dark), as we can see by a semi-naked clinch on the sand. One of the girls complains that Walker bit her as they romped, and we begin to see a tendency for sadism with the older punk. After some skinny-dipping by some of the buxom girls, of which we seem them drying themselves off ad-infinitum, we get down to some serious dialogue action between Walker and Marsh, lying on the sand like a couple of lovers. "There's only one thing in this whole crummy, square-infested life that counts. Kicks! Kicks, Jim, Kicks. Dig me?" says Walker, delivering to us his manifesto. We are soon about to find out just how far he'll go for these kicks, and drag his friend along into the maelstrom with him.

Walker has a sort-of girlfriend, Kathy (Linda Cochrane) whom he entices down into a dungeon-like basement he seems to own. At first she resists his lascivious behaviour. He soon gets rough with her, giving her a damned good spanking, and the poor girl seems to go ga-ga for the slimy deviate. Later, after having sex with Marsh in the back seat of a car, Ellen tells him she doesn't like Walker and suspects he's a not-nice sort of person. Marsh, seemingly in the thrall of his friend, fobs her off. Meanwhile the wide-eyed, hopeful Jane Collins (Mai Jansson) has arrived in Hollywood, and wants to become a star. We see her strolling around the walk of fame and taking in the sights. Unfortunately for the poor girl, she's taking an apartment with the sleazy Mrs. Olson (Mimi Marlowe) who also happens to be friends, for some reason, with Walker and Marsh. Mrs. Olson introduces the blonde Jane to the two sleazebags, who pretend to be normal and offer her a lift to a job interview.

Later, Walker has decided he needs a new kick that isn't just grass, booze or willing broads. It's going to be the captive Jane, someone no-one knows about or will care about if they go missing. He talks the weaker Marsh into it, over the unconscious body of Ellen, who is stoned out of her mind. They stake out Jane's apartment at night, spying on her as she undresses, has a bubble bath and goes to bed. Of course, us voyeurs are complicit in all of this, and get an eyeful as well. Later, the punks seem to have talked Jane around to accompanying to a "Hollywood" party but of course the only party they're going to is their own at Jane's expense. No sooner do they pass through a door than they are descending into Walker's shadowybasement. Jane begins to protest, and is promptly slapped and stripped by Walker. She begs for mercy, but Walker offers none, and Marsh is not about to, at this stage. Jane's ordeal at the hands of 'The Defilers' has begun.

Between being offered some paltry scraps of food, Jane is raped and slapped around by Walker, then left locked in the basement as the two hoods return to their 'normal' lives. We get a glimpse of Walker's home life when we see him dining with his weak, semi-drunken mother and brow-beating, white-collar father. When his father's out of sight, his mother makes him promise to never become like him. With a knowing look, Walker says he never will. The two hedonists return to drugged-out orgies with their 'girlfriends'. In the middle of one, Marsh returns to the basement and rapes Jane, although he makes out he's not hurting her but 'loving' her. Later on, lounging at Walker's pool, Marsh lets his know he's worried Jane will end up dying in their little prison. We're not sure whether he's concerned for the girl's welfare, his own skin or both, but he seems to be developing something of a conscience. Surprisingly enough, Walker agrees to let Jane go, and they return to the basement.

Marsh eagerly tells their prisoner that they're going to buy her a new dress, and let her go. Jane, half-crazed with relief, moves to leave, but Walker stand in her way and laughing, slaps her back down on the bed. He was playing Marsh for a fool, all along. As Marsh protests, he ties her legs together, and begins to beat the shrieking girl with his belt. Marsh pleads with him to stop as the beating gains in intensity, screaming that he' going to "kill her". I'm not really sure how a beating with a belt would kill anyone, but maybe my knowledge of anatomy is not up to scratch. Finally he gains enough courage to stand up for her and his new-found feelings. He leaps at Walker and a titanic clash of the punks begins. As Jane lies unconscious - or perhaps even dead if Marsh's concerns were to be believed - the fight rages with both combatants becoming bloody very quickly. Will Jane escape her savage captor, or will her would-be rescuer be killed? Either way, death soon looks to be the only victor in this sordid little drama ...

Okay, we've got some great sleaze personnel involved, and if you're into roughies, the classic storyline. Is 'The Defilers' worth watching and adding to your collection? Though a nasty chain of events happens, nothing is particularly explicit. Some of Mabe's slapping of Mai Jansson doesn't even connect properly but we know what's meant to be going on. There are no on-screen rapes but the focus is on Jane's suffering and reactions - for instance after Marsh rapes her, we just focus on her blank face, a single tear running down her cheek. Similarly when Jane is first stripped and slapped down onto the creeps' dingy bed, she cried piteously, and it's hard not to be moved. On the acting front, Jansson does pretty well as the put-upon victim. Mabe, apparently roped in at the last moment to play Walker after another actor froze and couldn't go on, actually does quite well. He delivers the beatnik dialogue in a memorable fashion and probably makes the film. Jerome Eden as Jameison Marsh isn't bad, but he's a secondary character, only becoming the film's conscience as it draws to a close. And let's face it, he isn't blessed with the snappy lines Mabe is. David Friedman indeed writes cool beat dialogue, creating some lines for the ages. The rest of the actors/actresses are basically required to be wallpaper, and buxom, fleshy wallpaper when the girls are concerned. I was actually a bit surprised by the amound of flesh on display for a 1965 film. On a technical level the film's a pleasure to watch, with nice black and white photography, and a cool jazz score. The set designers have also done well creating an appropriately seedy atmosphere, in the punks' crummy little basement. There's even some 1965 graffiti, here and there.

To finish up, as a cult cinema lover, The Defilers is worth a look from a stylistic point of view. It's a fairly classy example of the 'roughie' genre mixing nudity, sexuality and violence in equal measure. However, If you want to see women beaten, abused and raped in super-graphic detail, Lee Frost's film may disappoint on some levels. It's more an exploration of the mindset driving the villains, rather than an all-out rape and torture extravaganza that plays out every grim detail for your entertainment. Still, I don't want to be pushing this as an intellectual film, we're not talking Bergman here. I woudn't try to sell this to your sensitive, well-read girlfriend as a psychological epic that pushes the boundaries, and deeply explores the thoughts of villain and victim. This is an exploitation film, pure and simple, with a few extra trappings of style and performance. Definitely a must-see for fans of vintage sleaze, but probably not much more than that audience.

© Boris Lugosi, 2009.