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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

That’s right it’s time again for another Wednesday With William, and this week I’ve got a film that I’ve wanted to see for a long, long time, 1964’s Straight Jacket. There are several reasons why this film enticed me, and I would be lying if I said one of those reasons was not the appearance of Joan Crawford. I could not resist seeing the star of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane and the subject of the bio-pic Mommy, Dearest as an axe wielding psycho. I also couldn’t resist a cast that included Diane Baker and George Kennedy, a script written by Robert Bloch, and, of course, the direction of Mr. Castle. All combined it sounded like a recipe for a great time if you axe me. (See what I did there. I said axe instead of ….oh, never mind, let’s get on with the synopsizing.)

Lucy Harbin (Joan Crawford) was out of town on the evening that her husband Frank (an unaccredited Lee Majors in his first film role) decided to take an old girlfriend back to their house for some fun. Unfortunately for the lovebirds, Lucy decided to come home early. Lucy catches the pair in the act and she beheads them with an axe while their daughter Carol looks on. Twenty years later, Carol (Diane Baker) is living with her Aunt and Uncle when she gets the news that her mother is cured and has been released from the asylum. After an awkward reunion, the mother and daughter become friends, and Carol takes Lucy out shopping. Carol dresses her mother in a wig and outfit that remind her of what she remembers her mom looking like, and Lucy soon starts to feel like her old self. When people start to missing, some begin to suspect that she’s feeling a little too much like her old self.

Before I get any further into the film I want to talk about a couple of things that were conspicuously missing from Straight Jacket. First off, there’s no intro from Mr. Castle on this film, and this lends itself directly into the second thing that was mostly missing, the gimmick. Unlike some of the more spectacular gimmicks (or spectacular claims) that Castle came up for his films, Straight Jacket’s tie in was simply a tiny, cardboard bloody axe. Castle had been advised by the money men to eliminate his gimmicks and instead send Crawford on tour to promote the film. It was only at the last minute that Castle decided to have the axes made. It’s too bad that Castle had to compromise on this one. I would have really liked to see what he would have come up with if he was unencumbered. By his next film, 1965’s I See What You Did (again with Crawford) he was back to his old tricks and installing seatbelts in the back row of the theaters to form a “Shock Section”.

Now to the film at hand, Straight Jacket was a very enjoyable watch even if it was devoid of some of Castle’s usual flair. What makes up for much of this is the tightly wound script by scenarist Robert Bloch. Bloch is most well known for his novel Psycho which led to the Alfred Hitchcock film. Straight Jacket is cut from a similar cloth with the villain being a flesh and blood murderer with not a trace of supernatural. The central mystery of the movie is fairly easy to unravel, but Bloch left enough wiggle room to where it was not completely obvious until the finale. The only deviation from his script comes in the last few moments of the film when an extra scene, which feels tacked on, was filmed at one of the star’s request. This portion of the film would almost take away from the proceedings, but for a final treat, Castle included the Columbia pictures logo at the end again. The woman with the torch is shown with her head resting at her feet and her torch blown out.

The script can’t stand alone and Castle really cast the hell out of this film. Joan Crawford, only a few years removed from Baby Jane, gives a great performance. Sure it’s a bit over the top, but I would expect no less from Miss Crawford. Her performance is delightful from every arch of her eyebrow to every sour expression. Miss Crawford didn’t think as much of her collaboration with Mr. Castle. “I hate being asked to discuss those dreadful horror pictures I made the mistake of starring in. They were all just so disappointing to me. I really had high expectations for some of them. I thought that William Castle and I did our best on Strait Jacket, but the script was ludicrous and unbelievable and that destroyed that picture.” It’s unfortunate for Joan that she could not step outside herself and travel into the future where maybe she could appreciate the camp value of her performance.

The film is clearly Crawford’s, but Castle always seemed to be careful to weave in a story of young love to appeal to the teen set. In this cast it is between Carol, played by Diane Baker, and Michael (John Anthony Hayes). Baker really shines even opposite Crawford, and it was really great to see her pop up in something again. The same year Straight Jacket was released Baker co-starred in Hitchcock’s Marnie as Sean Connery’s conniving sister. Hayes on the other hand did not have much of a career before or after, and he left little impression so it’s no wonder. On the other hand long time character actor George Kennedy, probably best remembered now for his performances opposite Leslie Neilson’s Naked Gun Films, really impresses in a small role as an ill fated farmhand.

Even though Castle did not infuse the movie with a lot of gimmicky flash, he still displays the steady directing hand that makes his movies so watchable. Lots of great shots are constructed around shadows, and cinematographer Arthur E. Arling came up with some really interesting angles. All combined, Straight Jacket is a solid film that comes up a tad short on the grand scale of Castle’s event pictures, but holds its own as a campy, well scripted, Psycho knockoff that benefits from Bloch’s presence and Castle’s steady hand. For Castle fans this is a must see, but it should be required watching for any fan of the one and only Joan Crawford.

Below the trailer I'm linking a video that contains Crawford's makeup and costume test for the film. I especially liked watching Joan being casual and playing with a puppy.