Love, The Lair-ican Style- Cat People (1982): A Love That Could Not Be

How does one put out fire with gasoline? Not very well I would imagine, but that is the suggested method included in David Bowie’s theme song to Paul Schrader’s Cat People. More on that song later, but for now, I want to welcome everyone to the first installment of Love, The Lair-ican Style, four weeks of romances that don’t fit the mushy norm. After all, not everyone wants to watch sappy stuff for Valentine’s Day. I’ll be the first to admit that deep down I’m a big softie. I like to see hearts swell with love, but if they occasionally burst open into a bloody mess that‘s not a bad thing. One of the first movies that came to mind when I thought of this feature was Cat People. While Jacques Tourner’s original 1942 version of Cat People is a certified classic, Paul Schrader hit the mark with the erotic, the gory, the strange, the sick, and the romantic with his 1982 remake.

As the film begins, Irena (Natasha Kinski) arrives in New Orleans to meet her brother Paul (Malcolm McDowell) who she was separated from when her parents died and they were placed in foster care. Shortly after she arrives, Paul disappears just before a panther is captured in a seedy motel after attacking a prostitute. The panther is taken to the zoo, and while seeing some of the town, Irena is drawn to the zoo and the panther in particular. She meets zoologist Oliver Yates (John Heard) and takes a job working at the zoo. The panther continues its violent behavior and escapes the zoo. Only then does Paul reappear. He reveals to Irena they are both members of a race of cat people, and if she makes love to anyone other than her brother, she will also turn into a vicious cat and the only way to change back is to take a life. Now she must choose between Oliver, the man she loves, and becoming an uncontrollable killer.

The same year that John Carpenter delved back into classic horror for inspiration for his film The Thing, Paul Schrader and writer Alan Ormsby (Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things, Popcorn, My Bodyguard) raided producer Val Lewton’s catalog for Cat People (1942). They made quite a few changes, giving the cat people an incestuous back story, amping up the sex and violence, and changing the setting from New York City to New Orleans (Go Saints!), but on the whole, they stayed fairly true to the structure and some of the iconic portions of Tourner’s film. That’s not to say that the two films are not wildly different. After all, the cursed young woman in the 1942 film didn’t spend the last half of the film topless like Ms. Kinksi does, but the remake really gets it right, honoring the original and putting a very modern spin on it.

When it comes to edgy modern spin, there was a time when Paul Schrader was the go to guy. In the early ‘70’s, he made his name with screenplays for films like Taxi Driver, Obsession, and Raging Bull, and then by the end of the decade when he turned to directing, he maintained his edge with films like Hardcore and American Gigolo. By the time the early eighties rolled around, Schrader was on a creative roll, but he was also on a ton of drugs. The director himself even admits to losing a whole day of filming on Cat People because he was too high to come out of his trailer. How he managed to make a film as coherent, interesting, and visually interesting as Cat People is beyond me. Working with cinematographer John Bailey, Schrader captured a melancholy, mysterious feel similar to Tourner’s original and infused an eroticism that made the film his own.

I’m sure many people feel the driving force behind the film’s sexuality is star Natasha Kinski. While Klaus’ daughter is quite lovely, I found her performance much more interesting than her nude scenes. Throughout the film it is really interesting to watch her to see how she subtly incorporated catlike behaviors into her performance. There is only one time that she took it a little too far, and thankfully it was near the end of the film. Otherwise her performance was pitch perfect, and her chemistry with love interest John Heard is wonderful. Their scenes are really the core of the film, and the explorations of the themes of female sexuality are very interesting. Heard’s zoologist Oliver is trained to be able to handle the wildest of beasts, but the panther inside of Irena is beyond his control. By the end of the film, Oliver has no choice but to literally restrain the woman he loves in order to control her wild side. While the message is not delicate, it is well scripted and doesn’t feel either too obtuse or try to beat you over the head with it.

One of the greatest things about Cat People is the supporting cast. Then, as now, if you need someone to be a massive creep in your film, the man to call is Malcolm McDowell. As the crazy eyed, murderous, incest desiring brother Paul, McDowell is the instrument that Schrader used to build tension in the first half of his film, and as usual Malcolm delivered. While many other actors can be creepy, there is a certain look that McDowell can get that will just send shivers up and down your spine, and in Cat People he uses it to full effect. There are several other actors that make brief appearances that are worth mentioning even though they have very small roles in the film. I was happy to spot Ed Begley Jr. (Transylvania 6-5000, Best in Show), John Larroquette (Night Court), Ruby Dee (American Gangster), Ray Wise (Swamp Thing, Twin Peaks, Reaper), and Annette O’Toole (48 Hours, Superman III) all showing up in minor roles.

My first exposure so Schrader’s film came in the mid-eighties through the theme song, Cat People (Putting Out the Fire) by David Bowie. While Bowie recorded the song for the movie, he also laid down a more rocking version for his Let’s Dance album (featuring guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughn). The score by Giorgio Moroder was nearly complete when Schrader approached Bowie about adding lyrics to a closing theme that Moroder had already written. Bowie accepted, but the song he penned had precious little to do with the film. Even so it’s tons of fun to think of other things to end the lyric “Putting out fire with gasoline”. My wife and I went back and forth on this for quite some time, and I think my favorite was “Putting out fire with Martin Sheen”. (If you used Charlie, it would no doubt just get worse.) The other interesting thing about the song is that it was the only modern pop song that Tarantino pulled for his film Inglourious Basterds. Used during the theater fire scene, it fit strangely well into the film and felt a little more pertinent than it did in Cat People.

Cat People is a love story, but it’s not without throats getting ripped out and Ed Begley Jr. getting his arm ripped off. It would be 20 years before Schrader had another successful film, 2002’s Auto Focus which also dealt with sexual perversions, and these days he is a director that is somewhat forgotten. Cat People is a film that certainly should not be forgotten. While many will disparage the film in comparison to the original, Schrader’s film stand fully on its own, and it’s the perfect kind of film for those of us who like a like a little bit of guts and gore mixed up in their romance.

Bugg Rating

She Beast (1966): Oooh, oooh, Witchy Woman

As this has been pronounced Women in Horror month, I thought I should kick off the first B.L.O.G entry for this month with one of my favorite horror film queens, Barbara Steele. Ms. Steele made a handful of films prior to Black Sunday, but Bava’s film really kick-started her career and led to a string of gothic Italian films. If you look through her résumé, you’ll find precious little material that isn’t a horror or cult film, but she didn’t always take too kindly to being typecast and once remarked she never wanted “to climb out of a f**king coffin again.” Back in 1966, Ms. Steele had barely begun to scramble out of coffins, but she wouldn’t have to use those skills when she appeared in Michael Reeves film She Beast [Italian: La sorella di Satana].

When English honeymooners Veronica (Barbara Steele) and Phillip (Ian Ogilvy) stop for the night in a Transylvanian hotel, they hear a local legend about a vengeful witch who was executed hundreds of years ago by drowning in the lake. They leave the hotel early the next morning, and on their drive out of town, they are run off the road and crash into the lake. The truck driver that caused the crash pulls Phillip to safety, but Veronica’s body can’t be found. In its place, a rotten corpse is found, and Count von Helsing (John Karlsen), who claims to be a descendent of Van Helsing, believes it to be the body of the witch. The Count resurrects the witch (presumably because his ancestors took out vampires so what trouble could one witch cause), and, of course, she goes on a killing spree. It’s up to Phillip and von Helsing to stop the witch if Phillip ever wants to see his wife again.

I picked this film for a couple of different reasons. First, it was only a couple of weeks back that Fran Goria reviewed Michael Reeves most well regarded film, Witchfinder General, and secondly, this film had Barbara Steele who still ranks as one of the most fetching scream queens. Unfortunately, on a couple of different counts I was let down. The film, while fairly interesting, definitely does not stack up to Witchfinder, and it also strikes a clumsy tone right between horror and comedy that doesn’t quite work, The other problem is that the top billed Steele only appears in about fifteen minutes of this eighty minute film. In fact, I understand she shot all of her scenes in the span of one twelve hour day of shooting,

Regardless of the fact that she’s not in the majority of the film, one of the real bright spots is Steele. Not only does she deliver a solid performance in her short time on screen but it’s also nice to see her in modern ‘60’s clothing rather than the usual gothic garb she had to wear. It seemed that Steele and her co-star Ian Ogilvy had good chemistry too, and it’s a shame that they didn’t get more time together. Ogilvy is left to carry the film when Steele disappears and he does a decent job with what he had. Unfortunately, the script is too packed with anti-communist jokes and sight gags to ever get too far off the ground. Ogilvy did a find job as the hero, but there was no saving the movie in general.

The comic tone of the film did suit John Karlsen as Count von Helsing. Karlsen sells his eccentric character completely, and I always like seeing him pop up in things. What always strikes me about Karlsen is the length of his career. From 1958’s The Naked Maja to 2003’s The Order with Heath Ledger, Karlsen was a solid character actor and appeared in everything from The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t and Frankenstein Unbound to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and 8 ½. She Beast also features another great character actor, Mel Welles as the peeping tom/would be rapist/hotel manager named Groper. Welles is probably best known as Gravis Mushnik in Roger Corman’s Little Shop of Horrors, but he also made appearances in The Last American Virgin and High School Confidential! Welles nearly steals the show in She Beast. His over the top commie hotel manager is doubtlessly the highlight of the film’s comic portions, and ultimately he is dispatched with a hammer and sickle making for my favorite scene in the film.

She Beast was no a horrible film. I found myself rather enjoying it, and the short running time was definitely a plus. It was, however, not really what I expected. Much of the film feels like a pained attempt at a communist sitcom by way of the Keystone Cops paired with a script that Hammer film had thrown in the bin. Michael Reeves only directed four films in his short career, and thankfully this film is far overshadowed by Witchfinder General and The Sorcerers. If you’re a big fan of Ms. Steele then this is a film you’ll have to see even though she has limited screen time, but horror fans looking for classic chills won’t find them here. What you will find is a ton of Red Scare humor, a resurrected witch with a face like a bloody turd, and an entertaining enough way to spend eighty minutes.

Bugg Rating

Hear It Here! Sinful Cinema Episode 1 with T.L Bugg and Rev. Phantom

That's right it's finally here the first episode of Sinful Cinema, and its available right here for you to download or listen to right on the site. So check it out, and let us know what you think. It might be a little rough around the edges, but hey, it's episode one and we love movies that are rough around the edges, why not a podcast? So tune in, give it a listen, and let us know what you think either in the comments section or you can e-mail the show at Sinful Cinema and you might just hear your comments on episode 2. Hope everyone enjoys and we'll be back again next week with another episode.

Sinful Cinema Episode 1

:House of 1000 Mercenaries

Apocalypse domani (1980) [a.k.a Cannibal Apocolypse]: John Saxon Wants To Have You For Dinner

Antonio Margheriti is a director whose name will now be synonymous with Eli Roth. Not because they share a similar style or vision, but instead because Quentin Tarantino joined the two. In Inglourious Basterds, when Roth’s character Donny is prodded to introduce himself at the movie theater, he produces, with an outrageous accent, the name “Antonio Margheriti.” I’ll have to say it gave me a good chuckle when I saw that part of the film, but at the time, I only knew Margheriti from the tepid Video Nasty Flesh for Frankenstein (a.k.a. Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein). Only recently when I was delving deeper into the career of John Saxon did I read about tonight’s film, Apocalypse domani. Now in the States, we call this one Cannibal Apocalypse or Cannibals in the Streets or Savage Slaughterers or Savage Apocalypse or….you get the idea. This one’s had a few titles, but here's a new one for it, one of my favorite cannibal movies.

John Saxon stars as Norman Hooper, a Vietnam vet who is troubled by his wartime experiences. He was sent in to rescue a couple of prisoners from a POW camp. When he found them, he was surprised to see that they were hometown boys Charlie (Giovanni Lombardo Radice) and Tom (Tony King), but he was shocked to see that they were surviving on a diet of human flesh. The troops save the two men, but Norman gets bitten in the process. When they get back to the States, Norman begins to develop an unnatural appetite, and when they release Charlie from the hospital thinking he is cured, he takes a bite out of a buxom theater patron. The three men have been infected with a virus, one that spreads cannibalism, and it threatens to take over the streets.

With only Flesh for Frankenstein to inform my judgment, I didn’t know what to expect with this urban cannibal picture, but in the eight years between the two films, Margheriti directed seven other films and had plenty of time to grow as a film maker. He definitely did. There is rarely a film I see that has everything, action, comedy, drama, puffy down vests, and horror, but Cannibal Apocalypse delivers on all fronts. The script by Margheriti and Dardano Sacchetti (New York Ripper, The Cat o’ Nine Tails) plunges its way trough a litany of genre film conventions, and it manages to come away as an extremely entertaining film that mashes up parts of Rambo, Dawn of the Dead, and Anthropophagus to deliver a pacey 96 minutes sure to please any genre film fan.

I mean for starters you’ve got a great cast. John Saxon is in top form as Norman Hooper, and he really sells the conflicted cannibal storyline without taking it too far. I mean here’s a guy who wants to eat people, he even nibbles around on the jailbait girl from next door, but he fights it for as long as he can. You feel bad for the guy, but once he goes full blown human gourmand, it’s just as much fun to see the coppers take him down. Saxon gets a lot of help in his scenes from Elizabeth Turner as his wife Jane. This was Turner’s last film after a short career that included appearances in Fulci’s The Psychic and Assonitis’ Beyond the Door, and that’s a shame. Apocalypse seems to have been her highest profile role, and she gave a solid performance.

Now I can’t really go further into the performances without talking about a fellow that I can’t seem to go too long without mentioning, Giovanni Lombardo Radice. It was just the other day he popped up in Deleria a.k.a Stage Fright, and it was great to see him here again. Radice had a much larger role than usual. It was amazing to see him do so much more than just show up and get killed in a horribly nasty way. That’s not to say that the latter doesn’t happen, but Giovanni is allowed to have a number of great scenes before then. (Plus there’s the added bonus that his character name is Charles Bukowski, a name he shares with one of my favorite drunks/poets who was portrayed by Mickey Rourke in the film Barfly.) He really gets his moment to shine during a police standoff that seems right out of the John Rambo playbook. It’s a sequence that could have felt out of place, but Radice, with some help from Saxon, really pulls it off to be an exciting set piece. Many of his other scenes, he shares with Tony King, an actor I know as Zach from Hell Up in Harlem and Clifford from Richard Pryor’s The Toy. King has little to do but walk around, act menacing, and bite people, but it looked like he and Radice were having a good time doing it.

Margheriti chose great people to work behind the camera as well as in front of it. One of the best choices he made for his film was the score by Alexander Blonksteiner. I have to admit that I had never heard to Blonksteiner before, but I know many of the films he worked on including Syndicate Sadists, Violent Naples, and White Fang. Yet on those films he was employed as a conductor (and occasionally writer of additional music). Blonksteiner only boasts Cannibal Apocalypse and The Erotic Adventures of Robinson Crusoe as original solo compositions. Now that is really a shame. Blonksteiner throws prog, rock, pop, disco, funk, and new wave into a blender and the result is a funky score that verges on self parody without ever crossing the line. As soon as I got done watching the movie, I dug up a copy of the score, and I can’t wait until I have a chance to listen to it top to bottom.

So if you’re looking for a film that’s got everything from gore and action to a great score and John Saxon, then you couldn’t do a whole lot better. I haven't even had a chance to talk about the film's subtext of male sexual power and the effects of warfare, but there's plenty there to dwell upon as well. As an added bonus for me, Cannibal Apocalypse was filmed in Atlanta, Ga. and I had a great time trying to spot landmarks throughout the film (my favorite was chase down an Atlanta freeway that passes the exit for William’s Street, well known now for the site of the Adult Swim studios.) From top to bottom, Margheriti served up a cannibal movie that went far outside the norm to breathe some life back into a sub-genre I was completely tired of watching. This is one you shouldn’t miss if you like horror films in general, but for the Italian horror buff, it should be on their shortlist of must sees. And who knows, the next time you have to make up an Italian name for yourself because you’re being questioned by Nazis, you might just find yourself being Antonio Margheriti.

Bugg Rating

Forty Guns (1957): Barbara Stanwyck Whips The Wild West

The first film I saw starring with Barbara Stanwyck was The Lady of Burlesque (1943) where the actress was playing a thinly veiled version of Gypsy Rose Lee who had written the original novel. It detailed the rivalry between Stanwyck’s Dixie and dancing diva Princess Nirvena, and the whole thing plays out like prehistoric Showgirls, all of the cat fighting none of the vulgarity. Stanwyck managed to rise above the material, and her striking good looks really carried the film. So when I heard about a Western that starred Stanwyck as a black clad, whip wielding, iron fisted rancher, my interest was piqued. When I found out it was directed by Sam Fuller, then I knew I had to see Forty Guns (1957).

Stanwyck stars as Jessica Drummond who rules her Arizona county with the help of a phalanx of 40 loyal gunman, but when reluctant gun for hire Griff Bonell (Barry Sullivan) and his two brothers, Wes and Chico, ride into town to serve a warrant, her grip on the town is tested after her brother Brockie (John Erikson) guns down Griff’s old friend, the town marshal. Griff throws Brockie in jail, but Jessica uses her pull to spring him out. This sparks a love/hate relationship between the rancher and the visiting gunman, but when Brockie guns down Wes on his wedding day, Griff will go through anything, even the woman he loves, to get his revenge.

Barbara Stanwyck was forty nine years old when she took on the role of Jessica Drummond, but even so she still has a striking a beautiful look. The harder edge that age had given her only made her more suited for this role as a hardened, independent woman who had become powerful in a male dominated world. The image of the black clad Stanwyck riding across the plains with her line of forty gunmen is a striking image, and serves as a great introduction to the character. It should also be said that there is some great riding in the film, and most of it was done by Stanwyck. In fact, one scene required her character to be dragged by her horse. When her stunt double refused, Stanwyck did the stunt herself coming away with only a few bumps and bruises.

Over the course of the film, Jessica Drummond does soften, and Stanwyck still performs admirably even though the love story portion of the film does come a bit out of left field. The film actually contains two love stories, one between Griff and Jessica and one between Wes and the daughter of the local gunsmith. One of the most interesting things about the film, and Sam Fuller’s original script, is how peppered it is with double entendre and insinuation. Here’s the best example of what I’m talking about:

Jessica Drummond: I'm not interested in you, Mr. Bonnell. It's your trademark. [gestures at his gun, purring] May I feel it?

Griff Bonnell: Uh-uh.

Jessica Drummond: Just curious.

Griff Bonnell: It might go off in your face.

Jessica Drummond: I'll take a chance.

There’s no real question as to what they were getting at there, and there are several other sexual references in the film. The dialog is all very crisp, and it has a much less langid style as compared to other Westerns of the same period. It sounds like what it is, a Western written entirely by a city dwelling former newsman turned director.

Fuller wrote, directed, and produced Forty Guns, and it feels like a Sam Fuller movie through and through. From the square jawed hero pose that Barry Sullivan struck to the shades of grey that infiltrated the Western genre when black and white hats were de rigueur at the time, Fullers film took portions of the standard Western film and tweaked them to his view.The film also benefits from some great cinematography. The town looks and feels alive and the streets and people are covered with a layer of dust, and the level of detail and choice of shots are all so well done. It gives the film a unique look that is very different from other Westerns. The only reservation I have about Fuller’s Western film revisionism is the inclusion of a singing cowboy in the proceedings. While it is one of the background character, it really felt jarring when the film would be going along smoothly only to be interrupted by a song. When it happened once and seemed to function as a theme song, then I was willing to look over it, but the fact that it happened three more times in a 80 minute film felt like a mistake.

Forty Guns does get bogged down in its own melodrama, but thankfully the short running time, great visuals, and strong performances fend this off. Fuller crafted a film that was outside of the box, but in a way it is the spiritual forefather of films like McCabe and Mrs. Miller and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. By casting Barbara Stanwyck as such a powerful, strong character, Fuller broke a mold that still strikes people as a novelty when films like The Quick and the Dead are mentioned. If you like the Western genre, then I think this offbeat classic should get a watch, but it probably is too heavy on the drama and light on the gunplay for everyone’s taste.

Bugg Rating

Couldn't find a trailer so here's a nice clip

Roadgames (1981): Rear Window on 18 Wheels

On a long car trip, I’m not opposed to playing a car game or two. Who doesn’t like a rousing round of the Alphabet Game or Car bingo? One of the lesser known road trip pastimes is The Suspect That The Driver In A Creepy Van Is A Murderer And Try To Uncover The Truth With Assistance From Assorted Hitchhikers Game. Not only is it far too long a title for a game, but it also takes a very special set of circumstances to make it playable. It just so happens that Richard Franklin’s appropriately titled film Roadgames details just such a situation. So while we might never get a chance to play, we can still watch and enjoy seeing one of the best players of all time playing the game.

That player of course is Patrick ’Pat’ Quid (Stacy Keach) who would be quick to inform you that even though he drives a truck it doesn’t mean he’s a truck driver. Before starting a long haul to deliver meat to Perth, Australia, Quid tries to check into a hotel, but the last room gets rented out to a guy in a green van. Pat ends up having to sleep in his truck overnight, jealous of the bed and the pretty hitchhiker that the stranger in the green van took to his room. The next morning, Quid sees the same guy acting strangely, and after hearing about a Jack the Ripper style killer, he starts to believe that Mr. Smith or Jones in the Green Van (Grant Page) must be the killer. Quid picks up pretty young hitchhiker Pamela (Jamie Lee Curtis), but when they begin to investigate the Smith or Jones, Pamela gets kidnapped and the authorities begin to suspect that Quid is her abductor.

During the filming of Franklin’s previous film, Patrick, he gave a copy of the script for Rear Window to his screenwriter friend Everette De Roche and told him about his idea of using the Australian outback as the backdrop for a thriller. This conversation lead De Roche to pen Roadgames, a film that wears its Hitchcockian influences on its sleeve. Like James Stewart’s character in Rear Window, Stacy Keach’s Quid is a shut in as well, all be it a mobile one. Quid is trapped interacting with the world from his perch in the cab of his truck with few human interactions. The only two people who enter his world are a talkative middle aged woman whose husband abandoned her by the road named Frida Day (Marion Edward) and the girl he picks up and refers to as “Hitch”, Jamie Lee Curtis’ Pamela. Clearly these two women are the stand-ins for Rear Window’s Thelma Ritter and Grace Kelly respectively.

The references to Hitchcock don’t end there. Not two minutes after Quid meets Frida Day does she informs him that her daughter is named “Doris Day like the American actress” who starred in The Man Who Knew Too Much. When Pamela rifles through Quid’s things, she uncovers a copy of a Hitchcock mystery magazine. Quid spies on Mr. Smith or Jones though binoculars like Stewart watches from his apartment, and Pamela goes into the killer’s lair and gets caught much like Grace Kelly breaking into Raymond Burr’s place in Rear Window. There is also a rotating cast of characters that Quid sees from the truck much like the other residents of the apartment complex. From Mr. Balls to the Frugal family and Captain Careful, these characters add a layer of comic relief and depth to the story much like Hitchcock did with his film.

Stacy Keach also really comes across like the male lead in one of Hitch’s film. While he spouts poetry and quotations, he is a terribly isolated and disconnected figure with only his dog Boswell to keep him company. One of the most genius strokes in Roadgames is how Keach and Franklin teamed up to display Quid’s descent into sleep deprived madness. Keach’s performance is strong throughout, but as he restlessly tries to track down Smith or Jones, the actor and filmmaker cleverly ease the character into a dialog with himself. It doesn’t take long before the lines between thinking in one’s head and actually carrying on a conversation with one’s self become quite muddied. I have long been a fan of Keach, but this film really shows off his chops. It’s also important to note that Quid is not the stock hero type, and if you need any proof of that, then just cue up the scene where he tries to chase the killer with a stolen motorcycle only to crash the bike. Even if his character was a bit of a putz, Mr. Keach actually learned how to drive the big rig so he (and who would ever question it) was a certified badass.

The supporting cast was quite good as well. Jamie Lee Curtis, who Franklin had met when he visited the set of John Carpenter’s The Fog, makes for a spunky, fresh faced counterpart to Quid’s erudite truck driver. Marion Edward also really made an impression in her short role as Frida, and I really enjoyed seeing her show each time she would pop up in the film. The same goes for the other passing characters. Even though most of them had little to no dialog, they were all memorable and created a rich world for the suspense thriller to exist in.

There are two more people I must talk about in conjunction with this film. The first of those is composer Brian May. No, sadly, not Brian May of Queen, but rather Brian May the Australian composer who worked on Patrick, Thirst, Mad Max, Turkey Shoot, and a number of other Auss-ploitation films. To go along with Franklin’s Hitchcock inspired film, May definitely took his cues from Bernard Herrmann’s work with the director and Franz Waxman’s score for Rear Window. There are several variations of memorable Hitchcock themes in Roadgames, and it adds an extra layer of feeling to the already suspenseful film.

I also want to mention cinematographer Vincent Monton, who also shot Long Weekend and Thirst. Monton did a great job with the entirety of the film, but the driving footage is really spectacular. He also captured the wide open spaces of the Australian countryside in such a way that it almost feels claustrophobic, and I would not be surprised if some of the inspiration came from the crop duster scene in Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. There is also quite the collection of impressive camera movies in this film. One, a full 360 degree pan while Quid talks on the phone, was the source of a disagreement between Franklin and the American distribution company. They thought the whole scene was frivolous and added nothing to the film, but they could not have been further from the truth. These daring moves with the camera really make the countryside that Quid moves though seem quite dreamlike and surreal.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I really love this film. From its Hitchcock references to the acting and great look, Franklin brought together a film that holds up just as well as when it was made. It’s no wonder that after this film he would go right into filling Hitch’s shoes and directing Psycho II. Roadgames proves Franklin to be a skilled filmmaker, and it’s a shame that his star never really rose. I can’t recommend this one enough. It may not be a perfect film, but for me, it was near enough. I’m giving Roadgames my highest praise, and I hope you folks check it out. Not only do you get to see a great film, but the next time you go on a long road trip, you’ll have a fun way to pass the time.

Bugg Rating

Deliria a.k.a Stage Fright (1987): A Killer Who Gives a Hoot About his Work

When I was a kid, before I committed myself to the written word, I had aspirations to be an actor. I wanted to tread the boards, and nothing was going to stop me. I even ended up in a few productions, but as I got older, I found out that I wasn’t really keen on being in front of a large group of people. It seems that I had stage fright, and as luck would have it when I looked to see what I might want to review this week, I once again had Stage Fright. No I don’t mean I was afraid of coming out here and talking to you fine folks. I mean that I had a neglected copy of Michele Soavi’s 1987 film Deliria a.k.a Stage Fright that was begging to be reviewed. Soavi’s one of those directors who often slip my mind, but with films like Dellamorte Dellamore (Cemetery Man) and La chiesa (The Church), he should be hard to forget. By the time the curtains finally close on tonight’s tale, I hope that Mr. Soavi and his film will be stuck in my mind.

It all starts when a modern dance company is practicing for a big show that opens in a few days. The hard-ass director Paul (David Brandon) had forbid anyone from leaving the theater during practice for any reason, but when the star of the show, Alicia (Barbara Cupisti), twists her ankle her friend Betty sneaks her out to take her to a hospital. Unfortunately, the nearest place is a mental hospital, but they find a nice doctor who takes pity on Alicia and treats her. They also get a glimpse at deranged actor Irving Wallace (Clain Parker) who is being kept there after killing fifteen people. Wallace escapes just in time to stow away in the girl’s car, and soon he’s in the theater, donning a giant owl mask, and dispatching the cast and crew one by one.

One of the best things about this film is how Michele Soavi draws you into the world of the film. As the picture opens, a strange, birdlike looking hooker is assaulted and pulled back into an alleyway, but then as people pop out of windows and a Marilyn Monroe impersonator begins to blow a mean sax on a rooftop, the camera pulls out to reveal it is all part of a stage production. This simple little trick got me involved in the film very quickly, and it leads perfectly into establishing the setting, the tone, and then into the characters. It also establishes the tone for the film. Stage Fright is not exactly a straightforward slasher film. Soavi’s film Dellamorte Dellamore took the zombie film and turned it on its ear, and while Stage Fright doesn’t change the formula as radically, it does have a stripe of dark humor that runs throughout the film.

I can’t give Mr. Soavi all the credit for crafting a movie outside the norms of ‘80’s slasher films. The script was written by none other than Lair favorite George Eastman (with some help from Shelia Goldberg on dialog). Eastman is best known as the star of Joe D’Amato’s films Anthropophagus and the pseudo-sequel Absurd, but few realize that Eastman wrote those two films along with Castellari’s Keoma (1976), D’Amato’s Porno Holocaust (1981), and Stage Fright. The script is very well paced, and I commend it for giving the film the extremely darkly comic moments. There is one thing about this film I want to clear up. I’ve seen this listed many times as a giallo, but it is clearly not. The killer’s identity is clearly known, and there are no red herrings inserted to even make you think otherwise. Giallo came to the States and became the slasher film, but by 1987, the slasher had headed back over the ocean to influence Eastman and Soavi’s Stage Fright.

For as clever as the script and film making felt, the cast falls a bit short. Barbara Cupisti’s Alicia is very obviously intended to be the final girl from the time she is introduced, but I never could latch onto the character enough to care about her. This was an even bigger problem for the scads of nearly nameless dancers that become the killer’s victim after acting like a flock of bitches. The film tries to make Alicia sympathetic, but she comes off like a flaky mess and no better than her peers. The same can be said about David Brandon as the director Paul. He becomes one of the heroic characters in the film, but after forty plus minutes of him acting like a massive asshole, I was so ready for the Owl headed killer to catch up with him.

Speaking of which, I need to get around to the killer. Actor Clain Parker has a strange name, but he had very little to do as Irving Wallace as he only has a total of 2-3 minutes of screen time not wearing the Owl mask. Yet once he’s in it, it makes for a very unique killer that was really fun to see. The high point has to be when Paul thinks that Wallace is the dancer that is supposed to be wearing the Owl head. He invites the killer onto the stage and then proceeds to taunt him into killing. This is the perfect example of the dark comic tone of the film. Paul is nearly frothing at the mouth wanting his imaginary bloodlust quenched, but when Wallace stabs the girl to death in front of them, the romanticism of the murders in their bloody, erotic, modern dance routine is shattered.

Of course you can’t have dancing without music, and Simon Boswell’s score for the film is a classic. Filled with ‘80’s synths that really have that driving Miami Vice feel to them, I found myself often just listening to the score when scenes of dancers sniping at each other would come around. The score is also really well used when the killer takes command of the sound board and starts playing creepy killer music. I mean there’s a guy who really has pride in his work. Not only does he want to kill them, he wants to make sure that he’s got theme music to work with as well.

I could keep on about Stage Fright and pick apart the things I like and those I don’t, but in the end, things are pretty evenly matched. (For each scene that features Giovanni Lombardo Radice as an over the top gay costumer, there’s a montage that featuring a girl shaving her armpits.) Stage Fright will stick in my mind though because of the Owl headed killer if not for anything else, but it doesn’t really stack up compared to Soavi’s other films. If you’re interested in seeing how the American slasher influenced an Italian director, then I would encourage you to check this out. However, if you’ve never seen anything from Michele Soavi before, then start with Dellamorte Dellamore.

Bugg Rating

For the Love of Price: Witchfinder General (1968)

Some romances know not the bounds of time, space, distance, dimension, or the cinema screen. One such romance has occurred between The LBL’s Fran Goria and Vincent Price. Once in a while the pull is just too overwhelming, and Miss Goria must put pen to paper for the love of the man, for the love of his movies…..

Witchfinder General (1968) Directed by Michael Reeves Written by Michael Reeves and Tom Baker (based on a novel by Ronald Bassett) Starring: Vincent Price, Ian Ogilvy, Hillary Dwyer and Robert Russell.

Mathew Hopkins (Price) and his assistant, John Stearne (Russell), travel the country side doing “God’s work”. In this case, “God’s work” is finding, torturing, and killing those accused of witchery. Stearne particularly likes the torture part of the job, especially if ladies are involved. They travel to Brandeston where the local priest, Father Lowes (Rupert Davies), is accused of being Satan’s cohort. Hopkins shows the priest mercy in return for sexual favors from his niece, Sarah (Dwyer). Stearne rapes Sarah while Hopkins is away, and as a result, Hopkins has the priest hanged for witchcraft. When Sarah’s soldier fiancé, Richard Marshal (Ogilvy), hears the news, he makes a vow. He will find the two men and make them answer for their sins.

Witchfinder General a cult classic for two main reasons. First of all, it contains one of Price’s best and most menacing performances, and combined with Michael Reeves’ talent as a director, the film really shines. Not to mention that it is based on a novel about a bit of history. In 1645, during England’s civil war, there was a young man named Mathew Hopkins who traveled the country side convicting and executing witches. He had various tests to look for witchcraft, some of which are seen in the film. Many of these scenes were cut from the English version of the film, but remained intact for the American release. The American release also received a name change to cash in on the Roger Corman/Price/Poe films. The name was changed to Conqueror Worm after a Poe poem, and they cut in Vincent Price giving a reading of the poem over the closing credits.

Michael Reeves was a very promising young director, but sadly, Witchfinder General was his fourth and last film. Reeves’ life was cut short in 1969 from a barbiturates and alcohol overdose. Reeves had three quite successful films under his belt when he took the helm of Witchfinder which included The Sorcerers (1967) with Boris Karloff, She Beast (1966) with Barbara Steele, and Castle of the Living Dead (1964) with Christopher Lee. When he originally took on directing Witchfinder, Reeves envisioned Donald Pleasance in the lead role, and he was none to happy with the casting of Vincent Price. Reeves did not hide his feelings for the actor and the two clashed on set on many occasions. However, they were both professional enough to make a classic film. After Price saw the finished product, he sent Reeves a letter of congrats. In it, he wrote “So, my dear Michael, in spite of the fact that we didn’t get along too well…….I do think that you have made a very fine picture, and what’s more I liked what you gave me to do.” Price also once called the man difficult but brilliant once again proving what a class act Vincent really was.

Perhaps it was the tension on set that caused Price to deliver such a real and raw performance that showcases one of the most memorable roles of the actor’s career. He really had a commanding presence as Mathew Hopkins. There was none of the over-the-top characterizations that most have come to know from Price. His portrayal of Hopkins was as true as it gets, dark and sinister. During the “swimming test” scene, after the three accused witches were fished from the lake, Hopkins looks at the body of the one that drowned and said “She was innocent”. At that moment, I knew this man was pure evil. Price delivered a fierce performance in this role, but the rest of the cast, while all competent, did not reach Price’s level of skill.

Now, I must confess, Witchfinder General is not one of my favorite Vincent Price films. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. Price was spectacular in it. Hollywood even tried to cash in on it again with 1970’s Cry of the Banshee. It starred Price (in a very similar role), and Hillary Dwyer, but alas, it was no Witchfinder General. I have seen this, along with many other witch huntin’ movies, and Witchfinder is by far the best, but I just need more excitement. Perhaps I am biased, but I was never really big on witches anyway. If it were not for Price shining so brightly, I would probably not revisit this one, but he was just so damn great! I definitely think that everybody should see this film, especially a classic film fan or a fellow Vincent Price fan (but they've probably already seen it). Overall, I liked my visit to Brandeston, but I wouldn’t want to live there..... or die there from drowning.

Price Rating

Kansas City Bomber (1972): Raquel Welch and Roller Derby. Need I Say More?

Before we get into the post today, I want to thank B-Sol for having me on his new podcast Conversations in the Dark. Go on over to the Vault of Horror and check out the podcast to hear what happens when B-Sol meets the B-ugg to talk about upcoming releases. Of course, check it out after this installment of Beautiful Ladies of Genre.

The seventies were a magical time. The idea that originated in the sixties, that anything was possible, seemed to be coming true. Unfortunately, it mainly focused its power on messed up stuff. Take for example roller derby. Nowadays, when the sport comes up all you see is tattooed, rockabilly/punk girls skating under names like Eva Destruction, but at one time roller derby’s stock was up. In 1972, franchises were being set up, televised bouts of both male and female teams were popping up on network television, and roller derby was becoming big business. Naturally, someone had to make a film. A gritty look into the world of professional roller derby, and who better to play the lead role in Kansas City Bomber than one of the hottest ladies that the seventies could offer, Raquel Welch.

Ms. Welch stars as K.C. Carr, a star skater of the Kansas City team, but K.C. is traded off after she catches the attention of Portland based derby promoter Burt Henry (Kevin McCarthy). He sees star potential in K.C, but this doesn’t sit too well with the rest of the Portland Loggers. Current star skater Jackie Burdett (Helena Kallianiotes) definitely takes a disliking to K.C., and Jackie retreats into constant drinking while K.C. takes her place. Trying to juggle her job, her friends, her two kids, and the expectations of her corporate stooge boyfriend, K.C. struggles to keep her life together and be the best and baddest on eight wheels.

Kansas City Bomber is simply enough a mash-up of melodrama and roller derby, and despite what you might expect, it actually works pretty well. I’ve always really liked Raquel Welch’s acting. Not only is she exceedingly beautiful to look at, she also has turned in some great performances in films like Myra Breckinridge and 1969’s 100 Rifles. Her performance as K.C. Carr is really the glue that holds the narrative and the spliced in skating action together. I will have to say that there is precious little of the skating performed by the actress. She makes up for athletic feats with a sensitive performance of a woman trying to find her way in a literally violent world. Welch comes off as strong, independent, and little out of control, and this performance should have silenced critics of her acting.

The critics had another darling in mind to laud though. Helena Kallianiotes really brings the alcoholic, bitter, haggard Jackie Burdett to life, and while she was nominated for a Golden Globe for the performance, I thought it was rather one note. She does have an awesome look, and it’s a long way from her debut performance as a belly dancer in the Monkees’ film Head. The other performance that deserves a mention is Norman Alden as Horrible Hank Hopkins, a simpleton skater that is constantly the target of abuse. Alden doesn’t go too far over the top (at least not until his story concludes), and his shy flirtation with Welch’s character actually brings about an emotional conclusion that could easily ended up a hamfisted mess.

For all these good performances, one of the best things to see is the roller derby footage. Looking into this film, I saw some mentions of members of the team being actual players, and the action on the track is sometimes great to see. I actually did not realize that there were men’s roller derby teams, but I still think the ladies are much fiercer and fun to watch on the track. Seeing both the skating, and the crowds that they assembled to watch the events, really put you into the wayback machine for a look at middle America rather than the gritty cities that dominated seventies cinema. Roller derby itself is portrayed as the dangerous violent sport that it can be, but it also worked in the personality and spectacle of a professional wrestling event.

Kansas City Bomber is no classic example of how to shoot a movie, but it does have a grit to it that is enhanced by the seedy underbelly of the roller derby business. Director Jerrold Freedman mostly worked in television, and while he made several TV films, he only made two more features, 1980’s Borderline with Charles Bronson and 1986’s Native Son with, um, Matt Dillon and Oprah. So, Freedman never made it big, but Kansas City Bomber deserves to be remembered. This would have been an absolute classic to see at a drive in, but even now, it stands up beyond its reputation as an oddity.

If you like good looking girls on skates, seventies cinema, Raquel Welch, the guy who was the bad guy in UHF, or seeing what Midwestern hicks looked like thirty seven years ago, then this is the perfect film for you. It was nearly the perfect film for me, but it got bogged down by the melodrama and lacked any kind of lighter side of the story to keep it from being a bummer. The combination of all the elements that are there do deliver more than I expected, and I had some hope for this one going in. If you only see one movie about roller derby, do you really want it to be Whip It? I say you take a pass on that one and go back to when the derby was skating its way to the top.

Bugg Rating

This trailer is looking pretty rough, but I kind of liked that. The second video down is a song by folkie Phil Ochs which was intended for this film, but never used.