With Thanksgiving over and Christmas barreling down upon us, its time to start moving out of the oranges, yellows, and browns of fall and move on into more Christmassy colors. You know like a lovely dark green coupled with a deep red. Speaking of deep red and strange ways to intro a review, I finally got a chance this weekend to get around to watching Dario Argento’s Profondo Rosso a.k.a. Deep Red. Of all the Italian genre directors I’ve tried, I’ve found Argento the hardest to wrap my mind around. This may be because the first of his films I saw, Opera, is considered by many to be the last good one that he made. It left me a little cold, and when I went back to his first film, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, I felt much the same. Finally the pair of Susperia and Tenebre convinced me that there was something to this Argento fellow after all. So I’ve been waiting with great expectation for a time when I could get a chance to see Argento’s other widely hailed film.

Deep Red followed in the giallo tradition which Argento had already mined in three of his four first pictures (Bird, Four Flies on Grey Velvet, and Cat O’ Nine Tails). This time out the focus lands on Marcus Daly (David Hemmings), a jazz pianist who teaches at a nearby conservatory. One night, walking home with his drunken pal Carlo (Gabriele Lavia) he witnesses the murder of a renowned psychic. As Marcus begins to unravel the mystery of the killer, murders continue to happen all around him. With the help of journalist Gianna Brezzi, Marcus must remember the clue he saw at the scene of the first crime if he’s going to stop the sadistic killer.

There are several different cuts of Deep Red floating around out there, and the runtime varies anywhere from the American 98 minute cut to the full 126 minute Italian version. For better or worse, the version I watched was the latter. Generally I feel that an hour and half is the perfect running time for most films, and I wonder what I would have thought of a shorter cut. I say this because no matter how much I laud the acting and cinematic brilliance of this film it felt a bit overlong at over two hours. Generally a film with as much flair as this one can keep my attention pretty well rapt, but I found myself with my mind wandering or distracted by the nearest shiny object. Several times when the film switched from dubbing to subtitles I had to run it back to catch up with what was up. Losing track in a gialli is anathema to the enjoyment of the film, and for whatever reason, it was quite hard for me to keep this one on the rails.

Now that I’ve griped about the long running time, let me get into a few of the things I really liked about Deep Red. First off the film is stunningly shot. While the dynamic color palette that Argento shows off in many of his other films feels conspicuously absent, the fluidity of the camera movements more than made up for the subdued tones. Argento chose to work with cinematographer Luigi Kuveiller who he had previously paired with for his Italian Revolution film Five Days in Milan. The pair created some masterful brushstrokes with the camera, but the lack of a deep color field definitely felt like a limitation. Kuveiller would continue to work until 2004, and he even paired with another of the Italian horror masters in 1982 when he shot Lucio Fulci’s New York Ripper.

Another of the great things about Deep Red was the casting. Let’s start with David Hemmings. I love this guy. From Blow Up (1966) to Camelot (1967) to Castellari’s The Heroin Busters (1977) and even his small part in 2001’s Mean Machine, I consistently find him a very engaging and entertaining actor. Deep Red is no exception. Hemmings’ jazz pianist is another in a long string of unlikely gialli detectives, but he manages to pull off the amateur detective role with an air of believability. The only thing about his character that bothered me is that even though the film spans several days either Hemmings’ Marcus only has one outfit or he wears it day in and day out. The black shirt and white pants combo were very stylish and perhaps a subtle nod to his chosen profession, but it bothered me that this dashing young pianist would have come to Italy without a change of clothes.

Hemmings’ co-stars were all equally as well cast and entertaining. Daria Nicolodi, Mr. Argento’s longtime paramour, acquits herself well as the brash reporter Gianna Brezzi. She made a good investigation partner for Hemmings’ character, but I never felt a spark in the romantic angle of the story. Also there were many superfluous scenes filled with humorous banter between the pair, and these were the times I found myself most apt to let my mind wander. Deep Red also features a fine performance from Gabriele Lavia as Marcus’ drunken pal Carlo. Some may recognize Lavia from his roles in Zeder (1983) or Beyond the Door (1974), but he also was an influential Italian stage actor. Some of his performance, especially scenes framed wide with the characters performing in the distance, seemed to draw from his stage experience to great effect.

While the actors and cinematography both have their strong points, the best and most memorable part of Deep Red has to be the music. As with many Argento films, the score is provided by the prog rock gods known as Goblin. Every scene where their music appears meshes perfectly with what is happening on the screen. I picked up the soundtrack after seeing the film, and there is no doubt that hearing those pieces brings back memories of what was going on in each scene. I always find this a hallmark of a great score, and Goblin definitely knocks the ball out of the park with this one.

Now before I sign off I want to talk about my other gripes with Deep Red. My favorite part of gialli is normally the guessing. The endless red herrings keep me riveted to the screen in an attempt to outsmart the film before the denouement reveals the mystery. Deep Red left me at a loss here. I never suspected anyone. I had no idea who the killer was and when the ending rolled around even in reflection I could not see the clues. Perhaps on a repeated viewing I might find the ending more satisfying, and there is always the chance that when my mind wandered they marched the clues across the screen. The other problem I had with the film was a lack of sex and style. There was little in this film that struck me as having the same kind of flair exhibited by film makers like Mario Bava, Lucio Fulci in his giallo days, or even other Argento films. There are certain things I expect a gialli to deliver, and on both of these counts it fell a bit short.

In the end, I have to still recommend Deep Red as required viewing for fans of the Italian film world. While I had quite a few reservations about the film, in the end it still feels like it hints at the work that lay ahead of Mr. Argento. Only two years later Argento would hit an artistic peak with the film Susperia, and with that film he would move beyond the giallo into a color drenched world of abject horror. So if you haven’t checked out Deep Red, then you definitely should, and if you have let me know what you think. I know I’m not the only one who runs hot and cold with Argento, and I’m interested to see what you folks out there have to say.

It’s been a couple of weeks since last we checked in with our old friend Klaus Kinski. So tonight, I want to take you on an amazing journey with Klaus, Harvey Keitel, and an alien who came all the way across the Universe to get nearly literally nagged to death. I’m getting ahead of myself though, but this is one I’m really excited to talk about. Not only does it have one of Kinski’s strangest performances, it is also one of the best pieces of trash cinema this here Bugg has laid his eyes on in a while. Now I’m sure some of you know the film, but this was my first viewing, and it will be the first of many, many times. Rarely does a movie go from my hand, to the player, and onto my shortlist of favorite watches, but Star Knight somehow did it.

As the film begins, Boecius (Klaus Kinski), the magician asks the gods to summon an angel to give him “the secret of secrets”, the way to eternal life. The nearby villagers begin to complain they are being attacked by a dragon and are not inclined to listen to the local nobleman Klever (Harvey Keitel) when he tries to quell the unrest. In the castle, the Lord is unhappy with Klever for not being able to control the peons, and he is not inclined to make Klever a knight or let him marry his daughter Princess Alba (Maria Lamor). The Princess is in agreement with that, but she's tired of being locked in the castle. She tries to runaway and disappears in the woods which makes people believe she’s been eaten by the dragon, but she discovers there is no dragon at all. She is taken aboard a strange metal ship piloted by an alien named IX (Miguel Bose) who she quickly falls in love with. When the alien in his metal spacesuit returns the Princess to her grieving father, they all think he’s the answer to their greatest desires. The Lord and Boecius believe he has the answer to eternal life, the Princess thinks she’s found her love, and Klever believes he can become a knight by defeating him.

One of the things that make Star Knight such an enjoyable mess is the schizophrenic nature of the production. From the opening screen that tells of the alchemist’s quest to transmute gold and unlock the sequel to eternal life, it seems like you’re going to be treated to a straightforward fantasy film. Then not ten minutes in you’re introduced to Harvey Keitel as Klever, the Brooklyn accented would be knight. You don’t have to be very clever to realize quite quickly that Klever’s name is supposed to be ironic. It’s not much of a joke, but it lets you in on the fact that they are not completely on the level with this one. As the film progresses, it begins to feel more and more like the bargain basement version of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. This becomes very evident with the character of The Green Knight. He vows to stop people from crossing a bridge, but he never seems to make it work. For my money his scenes, especially the first time he fails in his duty because he’s taking a whiz, are some of the best in the film.

Now we’re here today to talk about Klaus Kinski, but before I get around to him, I have to spend a few minutes talking about Harvey “Klever” Keitel. This is the same Harvey Keitel that appeared in Taxi Driver and Mean Streets prancing around in a haircut that looked like Price Valiant by way of Eddie Rabbit. It is an incredibly strange experience to watch this actor who has become a genre icon saying things like “forsooth” and call his armor “ah-mah”. The casting of Mr. Keitel has to be one of the reasons that this film transformed from a serious fantasy to an unabashed comedy. There’s just no way to take Keitel seriously as a knight, but for a comedy, his over the top, anachronistic performance is a perfect fit.

Now onto Mr. Kinski. While his performance as Boecius is solid, it’s also rather disturbing. The brooding Kinski is no where to be found, and replacing him was the perpetually smiley little fellow. Sure, in some of his films, I’ve seen him crack a smile here and there, but never have I seen Kinski perform while looking so happy. It was as unnerving as some of his more sinister roles I assure you. All kidding aside, Kinski is very entertaining, and his incredible happiness actually adds to the humorous tone of the film. There’s also one other strange thing about Mr. Kinski, but it's not his doing. The DVD I purchased was from the Westlake Entertainment Group, and on the front, there is clearly a picture of Kinski from Aguirre, Wrath of God. Needless to say Kinski’s healing magician does not wear a conquistador’s helmet anywhere in this film. This is just the first of several problems with the disk, but more on that in a few.

Now I would be remiss if I did not take a moment to talk about the Princess and the alien IX. This poor alien. He traveled all the way across the galaxy only to meet a demanding, bitchy gal like the Princess. Now the Star Knight can only communicate with the Princess with a telepathy that sounds like whale song, but somehow he explains to her that he can’t take off his space suit or he’ll die. Repeatedly she tells him that she can’t love him if he doesn’t take it off. He explains it to her again. She tells him that if he loved her he’d take it off. This goes on time and time again in the film, and if I was a spaceman, I’d be beaming her down to the planet and getting the hell out of there. That or figuring out the telepathic whale song way to say, “Listen, woman, I will die. What part of that don’t you understand?”

Star Knight's actual title is El caballero del dragon, and it was a Spanish production directed by Fernando Colomo who also wrote and produced the film. I would really like to look into this man’s head to figure out what film he was intending to make. More than that, I would like to slap him around for letting some terrible copies of this film hit the market. I want to go back to the aforementioned Westlake Entertainment Group DVD. If you want to see this film, avoid this pressing at all costs, and pick up the DVD issued by Cheezy Flicks instead. The Westlake DVD was maddening to watch as the dialog was completely unsynched, and sometimes it seemed to be as much as four of five seconds off. Add to that a very soft VHS transfer, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

It really says something about Star Knight that I watched it anyway and ended up really enjoying it despite the viewing experience. There is no doubt in my mind that I will end up purchasing the other pressing of Star Knight, and I can’t wait to watch it when the dialog and actors mouths match up. This is one to watch. Just don’t let Mr. Kinski’s grin disturb you too much.

Hello folks. Welcome to my last entry for Frankenstienia’s Boris Karloff Blogathon. I’ve had lots of fun watching all these great Karloff films this week, and I’m astounded by the variety and volume of posts people contributed on Boris. There were so many interesting sides to the man, and it looks like over the course of the week pretty much every angle got covered. So I want to send a big thanks out to Pierre over at Frankenstienia for doing such a great job getting this thing going and keeping up with the deluge of posts. If you haven’t been checking it out, then take some time to go over there and see what’s going on.

That’s enough thank you’s I think. Now it’s time to get into today’s film. The day after Thanksgiving is known to be one of the biggest shopping days of the year, and to retailers, it has become known by the moniker Black Friday. So when I discovered that Mr. Karloff had starred in a film of the same title, then I knew I had to watch it. The film concerns busy businessman Boris Karloff who is on a quest to find the must have toy of the season, the Turbo Man. However Bela Lugosi is a hard working divorcée who needs a one of the action figures for his kid as well, and…. Huh? Oh, yeah. My fault. That’s the plot for the big blockbuster movie Jingle All the Way. Let’s try this again.

Boris Karloff plays Dr. Ernest Sovak, and when his best friend, mild mannered English professor George Kingsley (Stanley Ridges), gets run over by a car, Dr. Sovak is desperate to save him. Coming into the hospital at the same time is mobster Red Cannon (Stanley Ridges) who has been shot and paralyzed. Dr. Sovak operates on the two men replacing Kingsley’s damaged brain with that of the mobster. When Kingsley makes a recovery, he seems alright at first, but then he starts exhibiting characteristics of the mobster whose brain resides in his noggin. Dr. Sovak sees an opportunity to find a large amount of money Red Cannon hid before he died, and takes Kingsley to NYC to see if more memories come back. The trip to the city brings back more than Sovak planned for, and soon the professor is reaping the mobster’s vengeance on his old cronies (which includes Bela Lugosi in a small supporting role). As Kingsley spirals further out of control, Sovak is forced to make a decision on how to stop the friend whose life he had saved.

With a running time of only 70 minutes, Black Friday moves at a pretty fast clip, and this helps the threadbare plot seem less suspect because they don’t give you much time to think about it. It’s not that the film is written badly. It’s more that it doesn’t make much sense. How in the world do you put someone else’s brain in a body and they retain any sense of self? Maybe I’m thinking too hard on this one. This is a slice of science fiction nonsense that doesn’t need to be even vaguely factually accurate to be entertaining. Black Friday is not a thinker. Rather it’s the complete opposite. This is not a film that benefits from dwelling on its minutia. If you just accept the conceit and move on, then it’s a fun ride to the end.

I haven’t seen Karloff in enough roles where he wasn’t playing a monster or creep, and even though Dr. Sovak is not exactly on the level, he’s more flawed man than monster. Karloff is given time to flex his dramatic chops in this film, and I really enjoyed seeing him work. Sovak is a sympathetic character, but he’s also a bit of an asshole. He might have gone to great lengths to save his friend, but when the possibility of getting a chunk of change came his way, than he was more interested in that than his pal’s wellbeing. At one time the script called for Karloff to play the professor/mobster and Bela Lugosi to play the part of the doctor, but Karloff insisted on playing Sovak. The film is probably much better for this choice, and I can’t see Bela, as much as I like him, being able to bring off the conflicted emotions that Dr. Sovak goes through.

It also would have resulted in the loss of a great performance. Stanley Ridges was a character actor relegated to mostly minor roles when he landed the part of George Kingsley, and then he stole the show. Doing a Jekyll and Hyde routine in order to bounce back and forth between the loveable Professor Kingsley and mobster Red Cannon, Ridges really impresses. He was almost unrecognizable when he would change, and I honestly thought that it was being played by two actors until I took a look at the credits. While Karloff impresses with a strong dramatic performance, Ridges really shows that he deserved to have more prominent roles thrown his way. In the years to come, he would get quite a few of those in films like The Sea Wolf (1941) and To Be or Not to Be (1942).

While Bela Lugosi is second billed in this film, he really has very limited screen time as one of Red Cannon’s traitorous partners, Eric Marnay. While I enjoyed Bela hamming it up as a mobster with a Hungarian accent, it really could have been anyone in the role. It was really such a small role that the novelty factor of seeing Bela didn’t add much. Of the eight films that Karloff and Lugosi made together, this is also the only one where they don’t appear onscreen together. Without a meeting of the two horror legends, there seems to be little reason for Lugosi to inhabit the role in the first place.

Black Friday was directed by Arthur Lubin who was taking a shot at a sci-fi title after a string of war and crime films. Lubin doesn’t bring anything particularly special to the film, and it has a workmanlike quality that so many B grade pictures from the era had. Lubin would not find his muse in the world of science fiction. In fact, he would not hit his stride until 1941 when he directed the Abbott and Costello classic Buck Privates. He would go on to work primarily in comedy thereafter including a couple more Bud and Lou films, a pair of Francis the Talking Mule movies, and the 1964 Don Knotts live action/animation classic The Amazing Mr. Limpet.

Black Friday is not a film to boost up the classic status, but it is a solid effort from everyone involved. Even though I was disappointed that the film was not focused on Boris Karloff trying to wrap up his Christmas shopping early, I still rather enjoyed what I saw. This is a great quick watch that I would recommend to any Karloff fan who hasn’t seen it. That brings an end to my coverage of Boris Karloff, but this won’t be the last of the horror icon we see around this place. Reading about all his other great films in the Frankensteinia Blogathon has given me an even greater appreciation of Karloff and his legacy. They don’t make stars like him anymore, but thankfully we have all his great films to go back to for years to come.

Bugg Rating

Hello, folks. First off, happy Thanksgiving to everyone, and I hope you’ve all given plenty of thanks. Lot’s of bloggers have been giving thanks this whole week to Boris Karloff thanks to the Frankensteinia’s Boris Karloff Blogathon. I’ve had great fun reading all the posts and getting a chance to take in a few classic Karloff films as well. Today I wanted to talk a bit more about Karloff, but as usual, I also want to turn my eye to another Beautiful Lady of Genre, Miss Zita Johann. After the great success of Frankenstein and The Old Dark House, Universal wanted another property for a Karloff lead. The movie that they made was The Mummy, and what is Imhotep without his long lost love?

I’m sure most of you have seen The Mummy, so I won’t spend very long on the synopsis. Some nosey archeologists in Egypt unearth the cursed body of Imhotep (Karloff), and even though it’s clearly marked, the young upstart archeology student just has to open the container with the cursed scroll on it. You know what happens next, the mummy comes to life, the kid goes crazy, and Imhotep takes it on the lam. Cut to ten years later, Imhotep gets another group to dig up his old girlfriend. He has a plan to get her back, but it’s going to take finding her resurrected form. Luckily for him, she’s right in Cairo in the form of Helen Grosvenor (Zita Johann), and if he can just keep his magic scroll and pesky archeologists in line, he’ll reunite with his lost love.

I’ve glossed over the whole archeologist angle of the film because honestly that part of the picture is not all that interesting in the first place. The milquetoast hero character, the appropriately named David Manners as Frank Whemple, isn’t very fun to watch, and Edward Van Sloan, who’s been very good in many things, only shows up here to give a repeat performance of his performance as Van Helsing in Dracula. Only this time there’s an amulet of the goddess Isis standing in for a cross. Surely, this Universal horror, the first not to have literary forbearer, owes a great deal to Tod Browning’s 1931 film. From its cast of characters to the story of love across the ages, there are many comparisons to be drawn.

The love story, while similar to Dracula, finds its own footing in the Egyptian mythology from which it was drawn, and Karloff’s Imhotep is surely no suave, dapper count. From the moment Karloff’s character is introduced to us under layers of Jack Pierce’s makeup, he presents a foreboding figure. Even after he sheds his wrappings, Karloff’s gaunt frame and sunken eyes convey everything essential about the character. Add to that the makeup that made his skin look paper thin, and no matter if he was wrapped up from head to toe or not, there was no mistaking Imhotep for anything but a revived corpse. Karloff’s languid performance makes up for the film’s plodding pace and boring protagonists. Just the scenes where he gets his crazy hypnosis eyes going are enough to make up for an awful lot. Before I move on, I just have one last thing about Boris Karloff. When it comes to the big time Universal Monsters, there’s The Mummy, Dracula, The Wolf Man, and Frankenstein. When you immortalize 50% of those characters, there’s no wonder that hundreds of folks would spend whole week writing about you.

The object of Imhotep’s affections is a Helen whose face might well launch a whole crapload of ships. Zita Johann was an Austrian born actress, but she perfectly embodied the poise and grace of someone that was supposed to have been the resurrected form of an Egyptian priestess. One interesting thing about The Mummy is that its setting is 1932, and unlike Dracula or Frankenstein, it could portray modern style. Zita Johann was perfect for this. With her slight frame and huge eyes, these days she would probably be plastered on a tabloid page alongside Kira Knightly and a title reading “Are They Too Thin?”, but even though she was thin, her look seemed very natural. I also thought her costuming seemed chosen to reflect Helen as a modern girl as opposed to the girl of Imhotep’s dreams. Her performance is a perfect compliment to Karloff’s imposing performance, and I wish she had done more films. She had a very short screen career before leaving Hollywood for Broadway, but she returned one more time to the genre in 1986 for an appearance in the less classic film Raiders of the Living Dead.

While The Mummy is a film fraught with goofs (mouths neglecting to move when a character is speaking), fumbles (the uninteresting hero characters), and faults (a weak story that seems derivative), Karloff and Zita sell the film with the help of director Karl Freund. Before coming to American, Freund established his reputation in Germany as a skilled cinematographer working on films with Fritz Lang and F.W. Murnau. When he arrived in Hollywood, he climbed behind the camera for Tod Browning’s Dracula, and within the span of two years, he was in the big chair shooting The Mummy. The influence of German expressionistic film is evident throughout, and some conceits, like shooting the flashback sequence like a silent film complete with exaggerated expressions, were genius ideas.

The Mummy is a film that only half works, but the half that’s doing the work is doing a hell of a job. Freund told the story with his images, Karloff delivered an imposing, iconic performance, and Johann provides the alluring qualities that make it seem like a guy would come back from the dead for her. When I was younger, The Mummy was my least favorite of the Universal films because it was slow, didn’t have any direct sequels, and there wasn’t more of Karloff in the bandages. As an older viewer, I appreciate it more warts and all, and it’s a classic film that belongs in any horror fan’s library.

Last month I got to talk about one of my favorite horror comedies, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. This great film united the comedy duo with a trio of Universal monsters, Bela Lugosi as Dracula, Lon Chaney Jr. as The Wolfman, and Frankenstein played by Glen Strange. While Boris Karloff had been offered the role, he declined rather than play the character in a comedy. Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein was a box office success, and the studio immediately started feeling around for another horror themed film for the funnymen. The script they found, originally titled Easy Does It, was intended to be a vehicle for Bob Hope. With a little tinkering, it was refocused for the comedy team, but the femme fatale villain, Madame Switzer, was kept the same. Then five days before shooting began the Switzer character was changed to a swami and Boris Karloff was hired. That is how they finally arrived at Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff, and we arrive at my second post as a contributor to Frankensteinia’s Boris Karloff Blogathon.

When famous criminal lawyer Mr. Strickland comes to stay at the Lost Caverns Resort Hotel, he doesn’t take kindly to the bellhop skills of Freddie Phillips (Lou Costello), and the lawyer goes so far as to get Freddie fired. The indignant bellhop vows to get even with the big city lawyer, but he thinks it over and goes to apologize only to find the lawyer dead. Freddie quickly becomes the main suspect. With only hotel detective Casey Edwards (Bud Abbott) on his side, Freddie must find out which of the seven hotel guests, all former clients of Strickland, has done the deed. That is if he can resist the charms of the beautiful Angela Gordon (Lenore Aubert), the mystical hypnosis of Swami Talpur (Boris Karloff), or getting steamed to death.

If the story sounds a bit like a typical drawing room mystery from the 1940’s, that’s because it is. Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff takes on much more of properties of the noir thriller than their previous film, A&C Meet Frankenstein, did of horror films. In Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff the corpses pile up, often literally, and the scene where Bud and Lou play cards with a couple of stiffs was shocking enough to get cut out in some countries. Needless to say, there is little in the film the modern viewer might find “scary”, but this film does have a much different tone than other Abbott & Costello films. The title of the film was supposed to be Meet the Killers, but Universal didn’t want the film confused with their 1946 film The Killers. This probably led to the clunky title that features so prominently the name of Boris Karloff.

While the shocking scenes in the film might seem passé to modern audiences, the humor remains strong as ever. This was the seventh and final film that the comic duo made with director Charles Barton. With Barton, Abbott and Costello refined their vaudeville routines for the movie screens, and made a string of their great films that stand as the best in their catalog. Where some of the Marx Brothers films feel out of synch with the current taste in humor, it’s hard to watch Bud and Lou interact and not see the roots of what would become both situational comedy and the buddy flick. Lou Costello especially shines in this film, and his delivery and comic timing is right on point, and while he does have his typically Costello moments, he pulls it back to great effect in this film.

My first contact with this film came when I picked up the Goodtimes Video version of this at a Wal-Mart sometime in the late eighties. I was drawn to it both because of Abbott and Costello and, of course, Boris Karloff. Sadly, Boris, as the turbaned Swami Talpur, gets precious little screen time. He does make the most of what he gets. The routine he does with Lou Costello is priceless. The dimwitted Freddie proving too dumb to be hypnotized is the highlight of the film. Karloff gives his creepy best as the Swami, but there’s little to do but ham it up while Costello gets the laughs. Boris looks like he knows as much, and he looks like he’s having fun spoofing his own image.

In the end, as an Abbott and Costello film, it doesn’t add up to Buck Privates or A&C Meet Frankenstein, and as a Boris Karloff film, it will never top any lists. It is however an enjoyably, slightly odd little film that will entertain comedy or Karloff fans. If there’s any film that A&C Meets the Killer, Karloff really reminds me of, then it’s Clue. So if you enjoy that film, you might want to give this one a spin. That’s all for today’s Boris Karloff love. I’ll be back Thursday night with another selection. So after your post turkey nap, come on back and get all wrapped up in some more Boris.

One hundred and twenty two years ago today, at 36 Forest Hill Road, Peckham Rye, London, England, William Henry Pratt was born. One hundred years ago, Pratt traveled to Canada to persue a career in acting and changed his name to Boris Karloff. Seventy eight years ago, Karloff donned Jack Pierce’s makeup and became the Frankenstein monster. Once upon a time in Italy, forty six years ago, Boris made a film with Mario Bava, and that brings us to today, the start of the Boris Karloff blogathon brought to you by Frankensteinia. There’s going to be a lot of Karloff talk right here at the Lair and on a ton of other great sites all the week, and I’m really excited to get to start with one of my favorite Karloff films.

Black Sabbath is an anthology film, and depending on if you see the American International Pictures release or the Italian film, the order and feeling of the stories varies quite a bit. While I am sure that the original version I saw was the AIP release, for the purposes of this review, I watched the Italian version. The film is made of three stories, and the Italian title of the film, I tre volti della paura, translates as The Three Faces of Fear. It was given the title Black Sabbath by AIP to capitalize on the success of Bava’s Black Sunday which they had also distributed in America. In the Italian version, the three stories are book ended by Boris Karloff’s monologs which were refilmed, re-cut, and reordered for the AIP version. Boris once lamented their omission from the US version of the film and reminisced about how much fun had had shooting them.

After Karloff introduces the film while bathed in a glow of red and blue light, the film begins with ‘The Telephone’. As the segment begins, high class call girl Rosy (Michele Mercier) is harassed by a series of calls where seemingly there is no one on the other end of the line. After a few calls, a strange man begins to harass her and vows to strangle her to death. The caller finally reveals himself to be Frank (Milo Quesada), her ex-pimp, who has escaped from jail, and Rosy seeks solace with her estranged lesbian lover Mary (Lydia Alfonsi) who she invites over. The rest of the tale unfolds with lies, deceit, and mistaken identity combining for an unseemly end for all three.

"The Telephone" is a moody, atmospheric mini-gialli that functions as a great introduction to the stylish world of Mario Bava’s film making. In some ways, I feel like this part of the film with its jazzy score, moody lighting, and beautiful women foretell of Bava’s stylish 1964 film Blood and Black Lace. This is segment is truely Hitchcockian, but coupled with the Italian bent for sleaze that makes everything better. It doesn’t hurt that both women are absolute beauties either. It’s a wonderfully filmed story that hints at the direction Bava’s work would take.

The next segment is “The Wuderlack“, based on the story La famille du Vourdalak (Family of the Vourdalak) by Leo Tolstoy. As in Tolstoy’s tale, a traveler ends up in a small village just as their father, Gorcha (Boris Karloff) has gone off to fight a criminal named Ailbeck. Before he left, he warned them that if he did not return in five days, he would become infected with the blood curse wuderlack (a.k.a vampirism). In exactly five days, Gorcha does return, but he is a haggard, changed man. The family must decide what to do with Gorcha before he gets a chance to do all of them in.

If the first face of fear was the human monster, the second is a decidedly supernatural menace. Not only is this period tale gorgeously filmed, but it really utilized the gravitas that Karloff could bring to the screen in a spooky role. Gorcha is a horrifying character, and the iconic image of him staring through the window at the traveler always sticks in my head. Lavish and exciting, this second tale really keeps the film moving along at a great pace, and it does not at all draw back form the atmospheric tone of Bava’s film even though its setting wildly deviates. The Wunderlack is a classily told tale of vampirism, and there’s a pretty interesting post about the source materials over HERE. Bava would never touch on the classical vampire again (only the futuristic kind in 1964’s Planet of the Vampires), but the style of this film with it’s gothic setting, colored lights, and heavy fog reminded me much of his 1972 film Baron Blood.

The final segment is called “The Drop of Water” again casts the face of fear in a supernatural light, but this time the menace is a spirit attached to a ring. When an elderly medium dies, Helen Chester (Jacqueline Pierreux), the nurse who has been charged with attending to the body, steals a ring from the old lady’s finger. As she does she knocks over a glass of water and a fly which has been drawn to the corpse buzzes around her head. Later that night, the lights at her home go out, there is the sound of dripping water, and Miss Chester receives an unexpected visitor.

“The Drop is Water” is also credited to a Russian author, this time Anton Chekov. I tried to track down some information on this story and came up empty so who knows where exactly Bava got this tale. “The Drop of Water” is the most macabre of the three tales with its ghastly ghost and Miss Chester’s terrifying fate. The ghost has an especially unnerving appearance, and its head was sculpted by Mario’s father Eugenio Bava. The majority of this segment focuses solely on Jacqueline Pierreux as Helen Chester, and her portrayal of a woman haunted by guilt and ghosts is very effective. While this segment has the most straightforward story of the three, I find it highly enjoyable. While there are many hints at Bava’s later work in this segment as well, the film that most often comes to mind during it is Susperia. Bava’s use of colored gels and atmospheric sequences undoubtedly had a profound influence on Argento’s films.

Only in the last moments of the film where Karloff bids us a farewell does Bava make a misstep. As Karloff still dressed as Gorka menacingly bids us to “Dream of me. We’ll become friends.” the camera rolls back and reveals the set, the cameras, and the special effects. While I can almost see this as an “it’s only a movie, folks” reassurance to those weak of heart, its tone becomes so vastly different in those last few seconds that I have a hard time reconciling it with the rest of the film. That being said, it’s not like ten seconds of footage at the end of the film could ruin the experience.

Black Sabbath is one of my favorite Italian films, Bava films, and anthology films. Its three segments are all very different, but with the stylish steady hand of Mario Bava guiding each of them, they feel like a cohesive experience. If you’re a fan of Bava, Karloff, or Italian cinema, this is a must watch, and I can’t recommend it enough. So check it out, and also check out Frankensteinia for a lot more about Karloff for today, his birthday, and all this week. This isn’t the last we’ve seen of Boris around here this week either, so until next time, Dream of me. We’ll become friends. Hmmm, that sounds creepy in an entirely different way when I type it out.

Over the Top (1987) Director: Menahem Golan. Writers: Story- Gary Conway, David Engenbach. Screenplay- Stirling Silliphant, Sylvester Stallone. Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Robert Loggia, David Mendenhall.

Lincoln Hawk is a long haul truck driver and professional arm wrestler. He has been trying to raise enough money to take care of his wife and son. He has not seen his family since his son was a baby. His wife is now in the hospital, near death from an illness. She asked Lincoln to pick up their son, Mike (Mendenhall), from military school, drive him across country, and bring him home. She hopes the journey will give them a chance to get to know each other. The boy’s grandfather, Jason Cutler (Loggia), will do any thing to keep Lincoln out of his life. Hawk will have to arm wrestle his hands off in the big match if he want to keep his son.

In 1988, child star David Mendenhall won 2 Razzie Awards for his performance in Over The Top. One for Worst New Star, and One for Worst Supporting Actor.

Sylvester Stallone was nominated for a Razzie the same year, but lost out to Bill Cosby for Leonard Part 6 (hey, it’s better then Ghost Dad). As of 2004 Stallone was the all time Razzie Award master. In 1990, he won a Razzie for Worst Actor of the Decade, and one for worst Actor of the Century in 2004.

The film did win a real award as well. It received an ASCAP for the song“Meet Me Halfway”. I'm sure Miss Directed has more to say about that tune later.

In 1986, LewCo released a toy line featuring movie characters from Over The Top, as well as actual arm wrestlers. Kids could stage their very own bad assed arm wrestling match.

Over The Top is a feel-good film that delivers truck driving, arm wrestling and more montages than one can shake an upbeat 80’s song at. When this one was brought up for Ladies Night, I was excited by the title and the plot, but I didn't have high expectations. Sadly, my intuition was right on about this one.

With a name like Over The Top, I expected thing to be more, well, over the top. As it turns out, this refers to an arm wrestling move. It’s the big finish. Yes, the movie did make me laugh, but not as loudly or as often as I had hoped. Don’t get me wrong, the arm wrestling matches were fantastic! However, some of the scenes in between the matches were almost unbearable. The father son bonding seemed creepy and unnatural. I thought I was watching a NAMBLA commercial. This was funny also, but a bad joke can’t save a film.

The one redeeming factor for me was Robert Loggia. I like typing his name, Robert Loggia. The best actor in the movie was Robert Loggia. He was very believable as the rich, demanding family patriarch who might have mob connections. But, isn’t he always good in this role? The scenes with Robert Loggia were by far the most enjoyable.Unfortunately, this does make Stallone and Mendenhall seem even worse. Robert Loggia.

I can’t say that I recommend this movie to anybody. I have seen worse, hell, I’ve loved worse movies then this, but I just can’t get behind Over The Top. I enjoyed the overall experience of watching this Stallone disaster with Miss Directed, but it wasn’t because of the quality of the film. I suppose if one is an unyielding Sly fan, or an arm wrestling buff, go for it. If not, keep going.