Drag Me To Hell

2009, US, Directed by Sam Raimi

Colour, Running Time: 99 minutes

Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Lionsgate; Video: 1080p 24fps 2.39:1, Audio: DTS HD MA

After an extended hiatus away from anything too gruesome or terrifying, Sam Raimi - now mainstream director extraordinaire thanks to his levitation to greater heights with Spider-Man 1, 2, and 3 - is back seemingly attempting to prove that he still has the ability to shock. Actually I reckon he was feeling a little caged by his prolonged commercial viability in Hollywood (and its associated restrictions for all but those at the top) and wanted to metaphorically let his hair down for a while before heading into his next stratospheric-sized production (at the time of writing, Oz - The Great and Powerful, which reportedly has a ridiculous budget). Can Raimi appease some of the older hardcore fans who have remained addicted to The Evil Dead and its bloody good first sequel for all of these years (i.e. me, et al.)? I enjoy the Spidey movies personally and have no problem with someone evolving their career from low-budget origins, and the likes of Raimi and Peter Jackson demonstrate what amazing talent can spawn from the horror genre when that talent is allowed to flourish. However I wasn’t really sure what to expect with Drag Me To Hell…

It’s really nice that Raimi can get his slightly older brother Ivan involved in bigger budget productions such as this and the preceding Peter Parker films - Sam’s movies always feel like Edward Wood-type scenarios whereby he hangs around with a core motley crew of contributors, those whom he presumably feels secure with and able to rely on. So Sam and Ivan wrote this story (reportedly back in the early nineties before being sidetracked with other endeavours) about Christine Brown, a career-driven banker woman who is cursed by an old gypsy following her ulterior-motivated refusal to prevent repossession of the gypsy’s property. Brown soon begins experiencing frightening visions and learns from a possibly dodgy fortune-teller that the curse will result in her being ‘dragged to Hell’ in three days time if she cannot prevent it somehow, though it will be three days of increasingly malevolent supernatural activity. First she gives animal sacrifice a bash, to no avail, followed by adopting the services of an exorcist-like medium, who dies following a violent séance, and then the old Night of the Demon trick - passing the item that holds the curse on to another owner. Mixed up in all of this is her rivalry with a fellow banker as they both compete for the recently vacated assistant manager position at their branch, plus the prospect of Brown impressing her boyfriend’s uppity parents as they (particularly the mother) look down on her due to her origins as a farm girl. Her boyfriend (the likable Justin Long from Jeepers Creepers) meanwhile attempts to bring sanity to the whole mess, sticking with his girl through escalating situations of difficulty, though he remains unable to tell his parents precisely what to do with their preconceived notions of what’s right for him.

Brown’s predicament seems a little contrived but the Raimis successfully manage to make us feel a tad sorry for her as her desire to please and progress only winds her up in deep problems to the point where her very soul is under threat. However the schizophrenic approach to the story turn this on its head as the character resorts to animal sacrifice to ward off the invading demon - perhaps the writers are suggesting that anybody is capable of such malicious action when subjected to certain conditions. They’d be correct of course but I’m not sure this was as well conveyed as it could have been. There is an overt reliance on jump effects to fool the audience into thinking they’re scared - this often works but is so overused in modern genre products that it’s a little tiresome, and tiring. However, some of these effects admittedly have impact. As the movie gains momentum it becomes obvious that Raimi is having some fun - the séance/possession sequence really steps back into Evil Dead territory, and for a few minutes I thought minimal tweaks to this film could have resulted in another feasible chapter in the franchise (much more preferable to me than the prospect of the upcoming Evil Dead remake...). It’s a perverse cross between horror and slapstick comedy that only Raimi produces in such a ridiculous but effective fashion, and I’d argue that his style is better realised here than in Army of Darkness, which for me was too far down the slapstick route for it to be anything other than irritating. As with Evil Dead 2 the balance here is good, though many audience members not familiar with these earlier flicks may wonder what the hell is happening on occasions. Aside from several cool in-jokes throughout (the periodic appearance of a similar car to that used in Evil Dead) it’s honestly a real shame that there’s no Bruce Campbell in sight - I‘ve come to expect at the very least a cameo from the man in this director‘s films.

There is a sadistic edge to Drag Me To Hell that’s satisfactory - it makes you squirm in places (Raimi won‘t be winning any fans among Help The Aged), gives you a few frights, causes a smile here and there, and sometimes forces you to stare in utter bewilderment at the onscreen activities. The morbid graveyard exhumation is especially a highlight for me and the conclusion is beautifully grim. As suggested above, the movie is a touch schizophrenic in many respects and it won’t necessarily find classic status but it is a welcome return to the genre for a director who’s been noticeably absent for some time.  The Blu-ray Disc contains both the theatrical and extended versions of the film, and is presented with attractively detailed image quality coupled with strong surround audio.

Taste the Blood of Dracula

1969, UK, Directed by Peter Sasdy

Colour, Running Time: 95 minutes

Review Source: DVD, R1, Warner; Video: Anamorphic 1.78:1, Audio: DD Mono

A travelling tradesman finds himself in the wrong horse-drawn carriage when he attempts to sell a couple of headcases an artefact that the men decide to take for nothing instead. Abandoned in the surrounding forest the tradesman follows a woeful screeching noise through the undergrowth to a dying Count Dracula, just in time to witness the notorious vampire turn to dust. Clearly acknowledging a potential profit the astute man collects up whatever’s left of the supernatural disintegration and heads about his way. Some time later a circle of aristocratic men are attending their covert weekly meeting of sex and debauchery when their enjoyment is interrupted by young Lord Courtley, whose freedom from employment has similarly led him to a life of hedonistic exploits, however, whereas the three aristocrats have reached the summit of their imagination the younger man has taken his experiments in life one step further to investigate the possible benefits of occult practices. Piquing their curiosity with his arrogant claims to know the way beyond mortal limitations they’re persuaded to part with large sums of money for Dracula’s cape, ring and dried blood, the tradesman who originally found them quite happy with the exchange. Locating an abandoned church the group of men congregate to perform a ritual intended to regenerate the remains of the evil count. Refusing to drink (or even taste…) the blood of Dracula the three elderly men lose patience and beat Courtley to death after the enthusiastic lord himself has downed a goblet full of the reinvigorated blood. Fleeing the church what they don’t realise is that the ceremony was actually successful and the ancient count now wants revenge for the death of his servant.

Almost a sequel proper to the colourful Dracula Has Risen From The Grave, this movie largely maintains the feel and quality of its predecessor. In fact I think this run of sixties Dracula movies was the best for Hammer, and highly imaginative entries they were despite possibly being a tad irreverent when it came to transferring Bram Stoker’s careful creation to screen. Then again even Hammer’s initial adaptation of the story was hardly 100% faithful, so what followed shouldn’t have been too surprising. Ralph Bates (here playing Courtley; the actor’s first movie appearance) was at one point intended to have a much greater role in the film due to Christopher Lee’s initial refusal to appear, in addition to the fact that the producers wanted a fresh face to reinvigorate the franchise, but when Lee was enticed into the production (something pursued because Lee’s presence was one of the conditions imposed by co-financers Warner-Seven Arts) Bates’s role was substantially reduced to what we now see. While I’ve heard complaints about Bates as an actor I have to say I love his performance in Taste The Blood…; it’s so emphatically melodramatic and obsessively focused it’s impossible not to be hooked just watching him - shame he doesn‘t get much screen time. Of course the aristocrats are similarly taken by his aggressive pursuit of divine insight, this leading to them parting with large enough sums of money to kill for once unsatisfied with the results. One of these men (Hargood, played by Geoffrey Keen) is an interestingly hypocritical character: religiously judging and oppressing his daughter (Linda Hayden) for displaying her affections for weedy Paul he spends his Sunday evenings indulging in adulterous activities with the local prostitutes, before of course engaging in a black mass with the more black and white Courtley, despite a penchant for church-going by day. The lives of the other two men in the circle are less revealed though Hargood’s prominence is relevant mainly because his daighter does become a significant feature of the story as the prim but assertive girl who attracts the fangs of the vampire (to become an altogether more alluring proposition). Christopher Lee barely has anything to say and pretty much does the same thing he had on the preceding entries in the series. Why he continuously refused to play the count, only to be persuaded again and again is beyond me - even after his reluctant involvement with Taste The Blood… he went on to play the count another three times for Hammer. His presence is fairly imposing, however, and he does induce a certain level of anticipation, this being embellished by a suitably long stretch building up to his eventual reincarnation (a tactic that worked so well in 1965’s Dracula - Prince of Darkness).

Aside from some corny use of lightning during the blood drinking ceremony, the count’s silly rising from death (including his proclamation of vengeance), and a climactic finale that is rather odd and inexplicable, we’re treated elsewhere to a consistently gothic-tinged atmosphere, with great sets/locations (utilising some filming at Highgate Cemetery, once a place reputedly haunted by its own vampire), a sexy turn by Linda Hayden, the manic Ralph Bates, and an overall stylish approach to shooting that makes this one of Hammer’s better movies at a time for the studio where the violence (highlight: the brutally evil and nightmarish staking of one of the aristocrats), sex, and terror were quite well balanced. Continuing to strike while iron was still relatively warm, Scars of Dracula was to follow but a year later.

Bathory - Complete Studio Albums Review

In the early eighties it seems that metal musicians were keen to dip their toes into uncharted waters, and metal fans were clearly keen to listen. We'd already seen the New Wave of British Heavy Metal take on world domination and thrash metal was kicking off to become pretty big by the end of the decade, while death metal itself was just around the corner with the likes of Death, Onslaught, et al. Somewhere in the dark depths of Sweden (actually, Stockholm) a lover of punk and metal decided to try his hand at putting together his own rough and ready form of metal: an ingenious mix of punk and the likes of Motorhead, wrapped up with the darker ambience of Black Sabbath alongside the theatrical sensibilities (to an extent) of Kiss. Adopting a stage name that would be with with him for the rest of his life, 'Quorthon' created Bathory and recorded a handful of tracks that got him noticed in the fledgling Swedish metal scene, landing the band an appearance on the Scandinavian Metal Attack compilation with 'Sacrifice' and 'The Return of Darkness and Evil'. Immediately attracting attention of open-minded fans due to the innately evil sound of the material and its then innovative approach to metal, Bathory received the opportunity to record their first full length album.

Bathory (1984) Utilising a dirty and rough-around-the-edges sound and recorded for a few hundred pounds, the debut album would inadvertently define an entire genre. 'Black Metal' had already been a term coined before, most notably across the cover of the Venom album of the same name, but the nasty sound of the eponymous first album would become the blueprint for similarly minded bands (Scandinavian and otherwise) years later when the scene really kicked off in the nineties as thrash became less fashionable - the animalistic vocal style was something pretty fresh, and the guitar sound uncannily raw. What was once a harsh listen doesn't sound so unapproachable nowadays as bands have become faster and more extreme right up to ridiculous horizons. There is a consistent quality to the songs - a simplistic structure exuding an air of the occult (something Quorthon would later distance himself from). Guitars are tinny, drums grate on the ears a little, but the production accidentally became successful in its representation of something altogether more nasty than anything thrash really had to offer at the time. Highlights include 'Raise the Dead', 'Armageddon' and 'In Conspiracy With Satan'. The basic but sinister album cover artwork became an emblem for the band from this point onwards.

The Return (1985) The guitars became noticeably heavier with the second album, though drum pace - while slightly faster overall - was still a bit shaky. Lyrics were sadistic and the album truly took the occult feel of the first album to darker territory, earning the band wider recognition. I use the term 'band' quite loosely, because it was never clear album to album actually who else Quorthon had working with him. Guitars, vocals and songwriting was always his area exclusively, and the impression is that bassists/drummers came and went along the years (only a couple of times being listed in album credits) until it seemed he was doing pretty much everything himself. One person that was synonymous with the band right from the first album was Quorthon's father, who also adopted a nickname - Boss. He was involved in production duties on most of the albums, and helped the main man refine his vision. Highlights from The Return include the groove-laden 'Born For Burning' and the nasty-as-hell 'Reap of Evil', which features a section that to this day sends a chill through my blood. Back in 1985 the LP was one of the most evil sounding things on the planet.

Under the Sign of the Black Mark (1986) At this point Quorthon was creating an altogether more professional sound and beginning to use synthesisers to enhance the effect, again something as a record that fits quite nicely in the evolution of black metal as a genre. The fast tracks were getting really fast, but the man was also discovering something that would take on more of a presence later on - the slower, more epic material. Vocals were positively inhuman and this stuff was still exceptionally focussed on Satanic atmosphere and extremity of sound. Highlights include the face-ripping 'Equimanthorn', and the horror-movie-like 'Call From The Grave'. It's worth noting here that most of the albums would conclude with a short piece that symbolised the band crawling back into the caves until the next time around - it became iconic for Bathory generally and reassurance that we would have more to come, until (ironically, as it was used again) the final album of course.

Blood Fire Death (1988) The fourth album is significant, both in terms of the band's career, and for metal generally in my opinion. Taking the black metal elements of the first three albums, utilising injections of the more epic side that Quorthon had discovered with 'Enter the Eternal Fire' on Under the Sign..., and combining them with a slightly (I do mean slightly) more accessible thrash metal assault, Blood Fire Death Quorthon's vocals still mean but more natural this time around. The brutal triple attack that follows laid down some of the finest material in speed metal before or since, 'Holocaust' in particular boasting one of the most aggressive and hate-filled riffs ever. Slowing down again for the history lesson 'For All Those Who Died' (about witch-burnings), riffing is again quite monumental. The final fast track of the album leads into the most epic track of Bathory's career at that point - the title track. The label at the time (Under One Flag) recognised a special record here and released Blood Fire Death as a gatefold LP, the interior heralding a photograph of the band for the first time, standing in the Swedish forests brandishing swords, the infamously tall Quorthon towering above his colleagues. Highlights include 'Golden Walls of Heaven', 'A Fine Day to Die', and 'Holocaust', along with pretty much everything else (except the odd lyrical turn of 'Pace Til Death') on this wonderful platter.

Hammerheart (1990) Just as Quorthon had defined a genre with the first few albums, he did so again with the fifth and sixth releases. It wasn't apparent at the time, but what comprised Hammerheart would form the beginnings of what would become known as viking metal (although there are traces further back than this, notably in the likes of Manowar's chest-beating traditional heavy metal). Again, boasting stunning cover imagery from a classic painting that Quorthon had seen in the Manchester City art gallery, the vinyl record (now on the Noise label as sales had been going up) was also a majestic gatefold - this time with no band photograph (the main man later reported that this was not something he was in favour of anyway, more so an idea pushed forward by the record label at the time). For the first time the music was slowed down throughout, and pretty heavy - the epic feel of the last album's title track was taken through its logical evolution here, and any Satanic lyrics were replaced by a celebration of what once was Viking culture before the invasion of other religions turned most of the western world into what we know today. Vocal style again shifted further toward a more natural edge, at one point Quorthon singing completely clean for 'Song to Hall up High' (whilst still slightly rough around the edges, there was clearly great potential for the man as a vocalist that would only infrequently manifest itself later on unfortunately). The album represents one of the pinnacles of the band's career; highlights include 'Home of Once Brave' and 'Shores in Flames', though this is generally a great listen throughout.

Twilight of the Gods (1991) Taking the viking metal idea onwards to what he thought would be the conclusion of the band, this album is similarly heavy for the most part, the guitars less raw, and vocals much more clean throughout. There is also more acoustic work and Quorthon demonstrated quite a gift for this technique on the opening title track alongside 'Blood And Iron', with long passages of near classical material. Album track lengths had reached their zenith too, with the title track hitting a whopping fourteen minutes, though variable enough to remain interesting. Quorthon's new vocal style proved to be somewhat schizophrenic, deep and stirring on some tracks, elsewhere it wavers into tonal mess - quite odd and a factor that would plague much of what came afterwards. There are some brilliant melodies and riffs on the album, resulting in something of a (very) flawed masterpiece. Putting a cease on the band there was no traditional outro here, but fan interest would eventually bring Quorthon back into the studio a few years later. Highlights in include the title track and 'Blood and Iron'.

Requiem (1994) Deliberately stripping things down to 'basics' Requiem is nothing like the preceding two albums - aggressive, fast, lyrically very nasty indeed, this is an idiosyncratic combination of black, death and thrash metal. Plus, back to nasty vocals that are generally effective. Running not much more than half an hour, this was a disappointing album at the time, not least because the packaging was lacklustre (no lyrics or anything), but has since grown on me to become an enjoyable listen. Highlights include the grinding closer 'Apocalypse', the killer beat-driven 'Suffocate' and the heavy as f**k 'War Machine'.

Octagon (1995) Again angry and lyrically intense, Octagon is a mean, heavy thrash attack that unfortunately doesn't work for enough of the relatively short running time. Clearly Quorthon wanted rawness on Octagon but it sounds messy, and vocally it is a bumpy ride to say the least. Aside from a handful of tracks this was the first Bathory album that I could say that I didn't actually like very much at all. However, there are some highlights, and they include the violent 'Psychopath', the pounding 'War Supply', and 'Born to Die'. The album finishes interestingly with a decent cover of one of Quorthon's favourite bands (Kiss).

Blood on Ice (1996) Back in the eighties when Quorthon was still producing black metal classics he simultaneously began work on a more epic record in the vein of what would become Hammerheart and Twilight... At the time he felt it was an unsuitable follow up to the likes of Under the Sign and Blood Fire Death and so shelved it. Given the popularity of the aforementioned fifth and sixth records he went back and finished the viking metal album that also happened to be concept orientated - a Conan-esque story of a warrior's bloody adventure. A little cliched nowadays the album nevertheless has some brilliant music on it, including clean vocals, acoustic sections and accessible melodies alongside the choral-like backing tracks that Quorthon had developed a feel for back on the fourth album. Epic it is, although its final act consists of a couple of embarrassing tracks that bring down the overall impact of the record as a whole. Ignoring the last couple of tracks (which I usually do by omitting altogether) this is a good album. Highlights include 'The Sword', 'The Stallion', 'The Woodwoman' and 'The Lake', forming together an excellent centre section. Quorthon opted to include a lengthy history of the band in the liner notes and actually attracted unwanted attention as a result, many fans actually preferring the mystique that had exuded from Bathory since the early days.

Destroyer of Worlds (1999) The wait for the next Bathory album at the time seemed like absolutely forever - nowadays three years seems nothing when we're used to picking up Metallica albums every five years or so. In the meantime a couple of releases were announced but never materialised (for example, Nemesis, which was most likely just retitled for this release rather than dropped altogether). The wait, unfortunately, was not worth it. Destroyer... is in my opinion the nadir of the band's career, being a wayward hodgepodge of reasonable ideas and those that bomb completely. Vocal delivery is again very mixed here, risible almost throughout. For every decent track, there is one that stinks, as much as I hate to say it. Highlights there are though, and these include 'Ode', 'Lake of Fire', the heavy and raw 'Bleeding', plus the title track itself is not bad. Lyrically the album is more concerned with social and politic topics. Destroyer... would have been a terrible conclusion for the band, however, things were about to pick up in an unprecedented manner.

Nordland (2002) Unexpected was a return to viking metal, and not only that (after a few misfires preceding it) was the fact that it was a brilliant return to viking metal! Opening intro and title track are plodding and didn't initially show massive hope, but following that is a surprisingly rousing combination of the melodic, the acoustic, and the heavy, supported by the main man's clean vocal style throughout most of the tracks and all wrapped up in classic viking atmosphere. A fast piece ('Broken Sword') keeps things interesting too. Nordland is up there with the best Bathory albums, and an enticing listen to this day. Highlights include the stunning 'Foreverdark Woods', where Quorthon did his unique amalgamation of heavy guitars and beautiful acoustics alongside some fantastic singing, 'Mother Earth Father Thunder', the amazing 'Great Hall Awaits a Fallen Brother, which features an almost black metal guitar sound surprisingly, and the stirring outro 'Heimfard'. Aside from the odd dysfunctional component ('Dragon's Breath'), Nordland is an essential disc.

Nordland II (2003) Months later the sequel brought us another viking album, slightly differing in feel given Quorthon's propensity this time around for a rougher vocal approach. Initially feeling let down somewhat, the majority of the album has grown on me over the years, though it lacks the overall power of its predecessor. A handful of tracks don't work at all, but those that do are strong and enjoyable. Highlights include the folk-metal excursion 'Sea Wolf', the lovely ode to Scandinavian shores 'Vinland', while 'The Land' and 'Death and Resurrection of a Northern Son' are nice listens too. Seemingly intending to go on with Bathory, the disc concludes with the traditional outro that had adorned many of the earlier albums. Tragically it was not to be, as Quorthon died a year or so later with reported heart problems.

Other stuff: Quorthon also released two hard-rock/less-metal orientated 'solo' albums under his stage name. Generally alienating the Bathory fans I think these are mixed but underrated as pieces of music. Utilising overly obvious sampled sound effects on occasions, the music itself is proficiently played and often well sung with plenty of good tracks between them (one track - 'Boy' - I reckon was heavy enough for some of the Bathory albums). As the band's popularity peaked (around Hammerheart) a video was recorded to 'One Road to Asa Bay' - an interesting curiosity, it does little to boost the band's image really (probably not helped by the fact that there were problems gathering the footage together after the technician did a runner with the masters). He also recorded a video interview for MTV around 1990, where he came across appearing awkward and uncomfortable - much better are video interviews he recorded for fanzines and the like, where he was clearly revealed to be an articulate and sentient person willing to give time for those that love his work. There were three Jubileum Bathory albums which were aimed at introducing new fans to the existing music whilst providing old fans with some rare unreleased material. The best of this material goes back to the early days of the band with the likes of 'Witchcraft' and 'You Don't Move Me...', the latter showing off a little of the band's punk origins. Quorthon also recorded a few covers under both the Quorthon and Bathory monikers for Black Mark (the label on which he resided for most of his career) compilation albums, for example a slow, epic version of 'Ace of Spades' (!), a pretty accurate take on Black Sabbath's 'War Pigs', plus tracks that celebrated his appreciation of The Beatles ('I'm only Sleeping') and Sex Pistols ('God Save The Queen') as well as Kiss of course.

Despite less than perfect output, the rocky path of Quorthon and Bathory has become semi-legendary in the world of extreme and heavy metal. Somehow he elevated the band to near godlike status in an Internet-less era, without any live touring whatsoever, and missing the backing of big labels from the nineties onwards. He was a fan-appreciating musician, taking time to individually respond to mail throughout his career (indeed, he wrote me personally a very lengthy and thoughtful email once in response to a couple of questions I sent off to him). The man is responsible for almost single-handedly creating two entire sub-genres of metal - black and viking - themselves spawning countless great bands who have since spawned more great bands. Outright copycat acts have followed in his wake also - the underground Morrigan is worth checking out for those who like anything written about in this article, the best album of whom is the stupendous Headcult - at times you would have thought Quorthon was alive and well listening to this and some of their other stuff! The importance of such a legacy can't be downplayed, and alongside some of the misfires that were produced on-route, there are many more classic songs that are still enjoyable to this day. Like the stuff or not, it's hard to imagine the contemporary metal world if Bathory had never been born.

Upcoming Jean Rollin Blu-rays

Kino Video are releasing a batch of Jean Rollin movies on Blu-ray over the next week in the US. Jean Rollin is one of those love or hate kind of directors, sort of in the same ballpark as Jess Franco to an extent, though possibly a little more consistent (which is not saying too much). From his early movies (the sixties onwards) Rollin mixed eroticism and vampirism in unique and idiosyncratic ways, creating microcosms that stood several yards away from anything most other film-makers were doing around the time or even since.  The films are easy for many to dislike, possibly coming across as a little amateurish or downright strange, but if you get into them there is much in way of Gothic sex-charged delight to be had.  Like many directors, he lost his way later on (mainly from the mid eighties onwards) but the legacy of his early work survives.

In the distant past, Redemption did UK fans (including myself) a great favour during the nineties when they unleashed a number of Rollin's movies on video cassette (and even video CD!).  Later on reasonable DVDs were issued, obviously improving on the old tapes but leaving something to be desired as the modern hi-def age approached (Requiem for a Vampire in particular was a bit of a mess).  Finally there is something to really celebrate!  The first five (of hopefully many more) that Kino are releasing are some of the director's best movies, each having been mastered in high definition with French and English language audio options, a duplicated booklet, and extras including interview material with the director.  They include (chronologically) The Nude Vampire, Shiver of the Vampire, Iron Rose, Lips of Blood, and Fascination.  All of these are absolutely essential if you have any appreciation for Jean Rollin, and I'll be picking all of them up as soon as my bank balance will permit it.  Kino's website for further info can be found here.

Upcoming Judas Priest Complete Albums Collection

Actually it's not "complete", but very much desirable nonetheless: At some point in the future Columbia/Epic/Legacy Records are allegedly releasing a 17 CD boxed set of all studio/live albums of Judas Priest featuring Rob Halford on vocals, right from the 1974 Rocka Rolla through to the very mixed bag that was Nostradamus plus the Touch of Evil live album that followed it a year later. Obviously this won't include Jugulator and Demolition, effectively eschewing the Ripper Owen years under the carpet.  I only have a few of their albums on vinyl and CD, so am very likely to pick this up (if it ever actually appears).

*Update* This was released in the US in June, indeed a 17 CD boxed set (missing previously released rare non-album stuff and anything to do with Ripper, so not "complete", but pretty comprehensive none the less).  The albums themselves are contained within cardboard 'LP' replica covers, all housed within a cardboard box.  Also, it's listed as 'limited edition', though as with all LEs nowadays, that could mean one hundred or one hundred thousand...

Shadow of the Vampire

2000, UK/US, Directed by E Elias Merhige
Colour, Running Time: 89 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, Metrodome; Video: Anamorphic 1.78:1, Audio: DD 5.1

Somewhere in Europe in the early 1920s, Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau is attempting to direct a film sneakily based on Bram Stoker’s Dracula novel with names, film title, etc., switched around in the hope of avoiding the legal attentions of Stoker’s obstinate estate. Faced with mounting concerns from the production’s financiers, Murnau relentlessly pursues his unusual vision of the ancient vampire’s story of love and everlasting death. The film’s titular portrayer however is not revealed to the rest of the crew until later on, when he apparently refuses to appear to them in any sense except as his onscreen character, along with full ‘make-up‘. It becomes apparent that Murnau has made some sort of pact with the mysterious Max Scheck that keeps the strange man participating in something that may be at odds with his personal interests. But then Schreck begins making his own demands on the production, and before long people are being hurt by forces they’re unable to describe.

Steven Katz’s story takes the novel approach of using a true life event (i.e. the filming of the silent classic Nosferatu) and injecting it with elements that are (probably…) fictitious, in this case the suggestion that the person playing the monster was in reality a vampire himself, this essentially capitalising on the fact that there’s not a great deal known about the real-life Max Schreck. Bringing unprecedented character to Schreck is Willem Dafoe, in what justifiably proved to be an Oscar-nominated performance - by all accounts uncanny, repulsive, and downright odd, he’s almost unrecognisable due to both extensive make-up and characteristic portrayal of the strange being. In fact he heads up an adept cast all round: John Malkovich is typically manic and emotive as the director, Eddie Izzard is a frightened Gustav (playing Hutter from Nosferatu - essentially the Jonathon Harker semi-hero renamed), the lovely appearance of Udo Kier as the perpetually oblivious producer, his natural accent fitting in well with the forced dialects of the rest of the cast, and finally Catherine McCormack as Hutter and Orlok’s stuck-up love-interest. The overall cinematographic approach is one of murkiness and gloom; quite suitable given this rather dark excursion, while punctuating the story are genuine snippets of Nosteratu alongside close recreations of shots with the actors of this film as ‘Murnau‘ shoots his masterwork - the genuine clips prove to underpin the potency ingeniously injected into the 1922 chiller by the contextual suppositions made by Katz. Indeed, after watching this I think the natural urge is to seek out the real Murnau film on one of its many DVD incarnations.

But not only is there a bit of terror and drama in Shadow…, we’re also treated to sly portions of black humour that induce the occasional smile. I guess a film such as this was always going to have difficulty finding a target audience among the masses due to a refusal to fixate itself on any particular genre conventions - even the vampire elements are masked by ambiguity as Schreck’s bloodsucking tendencies may possibly be those of a madman or something altogether unprecedented. Instead this is a thoroughly original treatment that seems to have paid the price that steers many producers into safer territory nowadays (hence the apparent stagnation of the film industry that we appear to be suffering).

The Vampire Bat

1933, US, Directed by Frank R. Strayer
Black & White, Running Time: 63 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R1, Alpha Video; Video: 1.30:1, Audio: DD Mono

Taking place in a bat-infested village on the European continent somewhere, in a period probably around the early part of the twentieth century, the residents are in the grip of terror as a series of uncanny attacks results in murder through massive blood loss on multiple occasions. Arguments proliferate between the authorities - on one side, the suggestion that a genuine vampire being the perpetrator is seemingly substantiated by the evidence at hand, while those with more of a scientific orientation than superstitious inclination scramble for a more plausible explanation. The village idiot (all villages have them apparently...) - bat-loving Herman - seems to attract unwanted attention when many of the villagers decide that it’s him to blame, and end up chasing him through the countryside with burning torches, in time-honoured fashion. Even putting Herman out of action, however, does not bring the attacks on inhabitants of the village to a halt...

Clearly latching on to the commercial success that was then snowballing during the first ever real horror-boom, The Vampire Bat feeds off the thrills audiences derived from the likes of Dracula, having its characters obsess over the blood-draining antics of the antagonist as if they had just seen Tod Browning’s famous movie themselves. The film also represents a clash between science and superstition as the authorities endlessly argue amongst themselves about what kind of killer they’re dealing with. In that respect it seems ahead of its time although the dialogues and scenarios are inevitably antiquated by the period in which they’re firmly embedded. Where the film rises above its meagre resources is in the atmosphere forcibly concocted by the direction, cinematography, and sets (famously borrowed from other, bigger films, notably Whale’s Frankenstein and The Old Dark House). Without spending too much money the film-makers manage to scrape together a look and feel for this Majestic Pictures indie not dissimilar to Universal’s early thirties movies. This is aided by the presence of several well-knowns from the period: Fay Wray looks thoroughly lush as Ruth and herself would be synonymous with several other genre movies around the same year (King Kong, Mystery of the Wax Museum, Most Dangerous Game), Lionel Atwill (Mystery… again, as well as a number of the Universal films later on), and Dwight Frye, fresh from Dracula and Frankenstein, here as the ill-fated Herman (village idiots really seemed to get a raw deal in the old days!). Some comedy relief is provided by an old woman who seems destined to be scared out of her wits by anything that moves - an old fashioned touch that doesn’t work as well nowadays, however there is one amusing scene where she is fooled into thinking Herman has transformed into a dog. The Vampire Bat is short and moderately tasty; it injects a touch of originality for the era with its scientific angle whilst not losing sight of the ambience that’s all so essential to these thirties chillers.

Floating around on US DVD under the so-called public domain, the best release would appear to be from Alpha Video. Undoubtedly a ‘cheapo’ release the image is nevertheless reasonable, though in need of a restoration of higher proportions. The early shots look terrible and I wasn’t looking forward to viewing the rest as a projected image: relax however, because it does settle down to something altogether more stable and defined. Sound-wise it’s also okay, though far from stellar. Extras are unsurprisingly pretty much nonexistent (limited to promotion of the company’s other golden oldies), though I think the colourful cover artwork - which is loosely based on the original poster design - is actually rather nice for a budget title (having said that I do feel it presents a potential spoiler, a factor indicating that the designers weren‘t too thoughtful in that sense). All in all this is a good buy for fans of B&W chillers.

The Midnight Meat Train

2008, US, Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura

Colour, Running Time: 103 minutes

Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Lionsgate; Video: 1080p 24fps 2.39:1, Audio: DTS HD

It goes without saying that Clive Barker made a bit of a (red) splash on the horror scene back in the eighties, initially with his rather visionary Books of Blood (famously endorsed at the time by Stephen King) and then with the directorial debut that was Hellraiser (discounting the insane arthouse shorts Salome and The Forbidden). Then after the comparatively small dents in humanity that Nightbreed and Lord of Illusions made it seemed that his presence in the genre film world diminished somewhat, other than the continued, seemingly reluctant association he’s had with the Hellraiser brand through its many sequels. Actually he has acted as producer on a few low-end projects but otherwise the arrival of The Midnight Meat Train became quite noteworthy due to a number of favourable reviews attracted by it (though I acknowledge some are less kind). Based on one of the stories in Books of Blood the tale concerns Leon, a talented photographer who has his shots of the seedier side of city life declined by some snobby know-it-all woman in the business. However, during the course of the rejection one of her comments entices him to look deeper into the decadent city that forms the basis of the majority of his material in order to find something altogether more alerting. The otherwise stable Leon decides to head off into the night armed with a camera and his innate eye for an interesting shot, seeking something that will force people to take note. Stumbling across a mugging in the tube station he manages to make the assailants leave their victim alone, after he has grabbed some ‘artistic’ images of the crime in progression, but later finds that the woman being attacked has turned up dead, or more specifically, brutally slaughtered. Initially suspecting the muggers he takes his photos to the police where he’s treated more like the criminal himself for simply taking these shots of the woman, who turns out to be a semi-famous model. Effectively fobbed off he discovers that there’s a foreboding man who tends to hang around the tube trains and who looks likely to be the real perpetrator, so Leon decides to follow him. Eventually Leon realises that what he’s getting involved in is far more horrific than he might at first have imagined, and thus his descent from the stability of his everyday existence has begun.

First of all I found myself really getting into this after just around ten minutes - I think Leon is played nicely by Bradley Cooper, coming across as likable and someone who we can identify with reasonably successfully. The fact that he’s a photographer attempting to make it in a difficult world induces some sympathy and once he begins his nocturnal adventures we’re pretty much with him. It’s also a bonus that the world outside his apartment is realistically grim, or grimly realistic - a city weighed down by its own human slime. The film boasts a strong visual style courtesy of director Kitamura (genre fans may know of him from slick zombie-action flick Versus a few years back) and cinematographer Jonathan Sela (The Omen remake, for want of a more desirable genre example), most shots demonstrating efficient skills in the framing department. I also think the locations are well selected/designed - these largely revolve around Leon’s apartment, the café where his girlfriend works, the police offices, a cold looking tube station, and of course the train itself. Interspersing all this is some very contemporary extreme violence, something that most modern genre films can’t seem to do without. It is, however, very well executed and polished - almost enjoyable to watch perversely - though one scene in particular I had to turn away from (hey, I‘m getting on a bit, okay?). We get the ‘extreme’ version in the UK, and extreme it is! Famously taking on the tragic lead antagonist is football nutter Vinnie Jones, a factor which doesn’t necessarily attract me: having a celebrity face pulls you out of the fantasy as far as I’m concerned, although Vinnie’s virtually silent intensity is quite appropriate and he adopts some nice characteristics (e.g. the manner in which he almost primly holds on to his veterinarian bag) to flesh out the psychotic but focused man. He’s an imposing figure but I do think that the film-makers take this a step too far as the film reaches its final act, turning him into an almost Terminator type of unstoppable machine. This is one of the movie’s few real flaws though it fortunately doesn’t tarnish overall enjoyment a great deal. Without wishing to give any details away, the story does progress into mythological areas by the time of its conclusion (i.e. it’s not simply about a killer on a train) and this development is welcome, even if some may find elements of it hard to digest. It’s almost like a collision between eighties sensibilities and the aggressive cinematic tactics of more contemporary film, and I think the ideas are constructed somewhat above what could have merely been categorised as ‘slasher’ otherwise. At a time when it’s difficult to please fans whose emotions are made of stone it seems that Midnight Meat Train gets things right, enough so to make its one centimetre or so of space on my shelf quite valid.

Sliding the Blu-ray Disc into my player with some trepidation thanks to reading a small number of complaints on the Internet about the graininess of the HDBlu-ray picture. Basically the people complaining about this do not comprehend what ‘film’ is. It’s easy to perceive a higher level of detail here than on any Standard Definition release and it grants the world delineated by the story a sharp realism. The grain makes this world look and feel dirty. It’s a pity people are so uneducated when it comes to the technologies that are used to create film and transfer them to the screens in our homes (to this day I go into people’s living rooms to find that they’ve set their DVD/widescreen TV up incorrectly and the proportions of the image are completely wrong - to the apparent ignorance of the household inhabitants!). All of this makes the job of Blu-ray more difficult than it should be, but - to those who understand - Midnight Meat Train is presented very well by Lionsgate here and I wouldn’t watch it any other way. Stellar audio also supports this in DTS HD Master Audio format, with 7.1 channels of immersing sound. Aside from a commentary and various featurette, one extra in particular fascinated me: a 15 minute look at Clive Barker and what he gets up to. Initially I was a bit surprised at how fu*ked up Clive’s voice is - his accent is even weirder than it was back in the eighties and there’s a strange croaky resonance about it. After some comments on the story on which the film is based Clive takes us on a tour of his studio, a place where he has been relentlessly painting for the last ten years or so. I found his artwork quite incredible to look at, and his attitude inspirational. The sheer quantity of paintings and the vastness of bottomless imagination on display is quite awesome and it seems that he has found the perfect way to express the contents of his unusual brain. Overall this Blu-ray Disc is a satisfying package of a film that is a suitably good time.

Satan's Blood

1977, Spain, Directed by Carlos Puerto
Colour, Running Time: 82 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R1, Mondo Macabro; Video: Anamorphic 1.78:1, Audio: DD Stereo

It was comparatively late in the game that I discovered the macabre cinematic beauty that can sometimes emanate from the slightly offbeat world of Spanish horror. Until a few years ago I generally considered the Italians to be the gruesome kings of genre in its European variety but several brushes with some of Paul Naschy’s better known films along with oddities like the truly nightmarish The Vampire’s Night Orgy, the dreamily enticing A Bell From Hell, etc., have illustrated that the Spaniards once gleefully produced their own (now unfortunately dead forever) peculiar brand of sexy ghastliness, a brand that happily coexists with and complements the output of their Italian neighbours. DVD has brought some of these delights to us in a quality that enhances their appeal as far as I’m concerned - for example, back in the grim old days of bootlegged video tapes I had a copy of Horror Rises From The Tomb, a film that I considered at the time to be worthless excrement. Picking up the BCI Eclipse special a few years back, however, diametrically shifted my opinion. Around 2006 I stumbled across the wonderfully titled Satan’s Blood (AKA Escalofrío) for the first time, thanks to those amazing people at Mondo Macabro, and it has since become one of my perverse favourites. Considering the originality of the plot one has to remember that this was made in the seventies and it’s not really a bad stab at the Satanism/occult arenas that were repeatedly pummelled by screenwriters throughout those classic decades. Bruno and Berta, a young and relatively happy couple, are out driving one day when the passengers of another vehicle beckon them to pull over. One of them claims to have been to school with Bruno and despite the latter not actually remembering the man they’re persuaded to accompany the strangers to their country mansion for an evening of drinks and, later on, a sleepover. After an hour or so of driving they arrive at the remote house and settle down for apparently harmless chat, however certain clues indicate that their hosts lead unorthodox lifestyles, while there is an omnipresent sense of palpable unease. During the night there are disturbances in the house - Berta is indecently attacked by an intruder, then Bruno and Berta stumble across the other couple engaging in sexual activity downstairs. Seemingly entranced they join in for a transcendental orgy (is there any other kind?). But it’s not all good - as the weirdness snowballs the couple find themselves unable to leave the premises as the dog they brought with them initially goes missing, their car won’t start, and they’re stranded in the middle of nowhere with two people who appear to be worshippers of the devil.

Typically manic for a Spanish production Satan’s Blood zips along once it has taken necessary time to build an aura of the supernatural, often without resorting to overt manifestations of the unseen world. The couple who befriend the protagonists are suitably mysterious throughout and there are thematic resemblances to Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby in some respects: the strange, beguiling neighbourly people who pretend to be working in your best interests but are actually aiming to seduce you over to demonic forces largely unseen. I’m impressed with Puerto’s conveyance of the sinister couple and their macabre intentions, contrasted with the innocent proclivities of the ’good’ couple. Whilst there is a little of the titular blood on display here and there (in the sense that it’s consumed of course) the film’s references to sex are more pronounced, this being epitomised by the show-stopping orgy sequence that our couple discover downstairs in the middle of the night and hypnotically become involved in. Psychedelic and adequately deranged, it is both titillating and haunting in equal measure. The film also reaches a satisfyingly creepy finale following the couple’s desperate attempts to release themselves from the captivity of the sinister duo and their imposing mansion. It’s one of those movies I feel I can watch repeatedly and never really grow tired of, hence Satan’s Blood remains one of the more interesting and satisfying examples of the Spanish contributions to the genre.

Satan's Blood was previously available briefly in the UK by Redemption, and more recently from Scorpion in the US. Prior to both those wonderful people at Mondo Macabro granted us this once very obscure Euro gem on DVD, presented attractively in an anamorphic widescreen ratio with an essential Spanish language soundtrack accompanied by English subtitles (along with optional English audio dub). This is the perfect way to bring a film like this to fans and it’s a shame that the likes of Mya Communication can’t do the same with the mountain of desirable films they keep releasing without original language/English subtitle combinations. Both the Scorpion and Redemption discs came with similarly framed transfers, however the Scorpion DVD unfortunately omits English subtitles (which were present on the Redemption surprisingly), rendering the original language track useless to non-Spanish speakers. For the Mondo disc we are also bestowed with a documentary about Satanism along with some previews of other MM releases (always fun), whilst extras are minimal (mainly trailers) on the other two. In conclusion the best option for fans of the movie and Spanish horror generally is definitely the Mondo Macabro DVD, though now being out of print along with the Redemption disc, the Scorpion release will do the job in their absence.

Tucker & Dale VS. Evil

2010, US/Canada, Directed by Eli Craig
Colour, Running Time: 85 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Sony; Image: 1080i 50fps 2.39:1, Audio: DTS HD MA

Starting off in what appears to be familiar territory, a bunch of 'college kids' (a couple of them incredibly pleasurable to look at) head off into backwoods America for the usual weekend of copulation, ostentatiousness, exposing of flesh, etc. They stop off for supplies at an isolated store where they come into contact with the local hillbillies - cue menacing gestures, threatening looks, and everything else they (and we) have seen in modern horror movies. But, the two 'hillbillies' who are staying in the same vicinity as the teens to fix up a dilapidated cabin are actually a couple of really nice guys, it transpiring quickly that everything they do, from rescuing one of the drowning college girls right through to simply existing, is misinterpreted by the prejudgemental kids as the actions of violent backwoods throwback murderers. The kids try to re-acquire their friend and get revenge on the two guys - their mishaps causing death after death amongst themselves.

Tucker & Dale VS. Evil takes many modern horror conventions and deliberately turns them on their heads, creating in its wake some hilarious situations that gave me the biggest laughs I've had from a film for months. It's written in a fashion that suggests good understanding of both horror and comedy genres. The stupid, prejudiced kids inadvertently knock themselves off one by one in increasingly gory ways as they try to kill the hillbillies, who are actually a pair of really decent people who simply don't fit into the snobbish cultures that most of us have found ourselves a part of. Obviously movies this funny can rarely sustain themselves for ninety minutes and that's the case here, where the last half hour doesn't work as well, but in the run up to it you get a superb and perceptively funny gorefest that is worth the price of purchase. There's even a serious message in there that most of us could take heed of, in that the actions of others can easily be assumed to be unsavoury in nature when we don't know the full facts for ourselves. This is slightly subverted by the very nature of the revelations towards the end but its relevance is present nonetheless. Not a million miles from the lofty ranks of Evil Dead II, Return of the Living Dead, and Braindead (Dead Alive to the Americans), it's not too often we get a horror comedy this successful nowadays (more surprising as it's Eli Craig's feature length directorial debut) so buy it and have a fantastic time.

The Blu-ray comes with a clean and natural looking image sourced directly or indirectly from digitally shot material. It doesn't start off well with an ugly aerial shot of the West Virginia backwoods but quickly proves to be an attractive transfer beyond that - considering this was shot digitally, its appearance is very film-like. The audio track is strong and enveloping. UK disc extras are sparse in the form of a featurette plus a few trailers and stills - disappointing in light of the fact that Magnolia released the film in the US with an audio commentary from the director and two of the main actors, plus more featurettes. Clearly Sony have little respect for UK fans. Not really acceptable, but the fact that the film is brilliant, as well as looking and sounding excellent, makes this a good pick-up that should have been better - it's about half the price of the import for UK fans so it depends what's important to you: price or extras.

9

2009, US, Directed by Shane Acker
Animation, Running Time: 79 minutes
Review Source: Cinema screening; Image: 1.85:1 Digital

(Note, review based on original theatrical screening) Shane Acker first attracted the desirable attention that would break him into a small portion of Hollywood’s limelight with the ten minute film ‘9’ a few years ago, the third in a line of animated shorts that would finally find him a nomination at the Oscars. Expanded to feature-length 9 adopts the rough plot outline of its ancestral parent, utilises a very similar visual style, and brings an essentially arty CGI animation (that reminded me in places of work by the Quays and Svankmajer) to a wider audience. Set in a world that vaguely resembles our own, albeit with some deliberate historical juggling, mankind has been devastated by the evolution of machines initially designed to aid us in war, the machines themselves eventually turning on their creators - Matrix-style - to leave the planet a ruined, desolate place devoid of humanity, so it seems. Before you suspect further inspiration from Wall-E, you’ll be pleased/disappointed to hear that in our place, aside from the destructive machines, are tiny automatons that were created from bits of cloth and metal by a human scientist; creatures that are by comparison placid and harmless. However, the curiosity of one such creature, referred to like his siblings only by a number (‘9’ of course), reawakens a monolithic construction that threatens the existence of the entire community of tiny rubble dwellers, but therein may lie the answers that 9 seeks.

Leading a small team of animators in the mid-noughties Acker managed to create a visually imaginative short film that thrived on mystery and menace as much as its perceived ambient qualities, and to some extent those attributes have been effectively conveyed in this feature adaptation. Some sacrifices have had to be made in good will towards commercialisation: some of these necessary to keep the film afloat financially rather than having it flop in some art house swamp, while other sacrifices are more debatable. The most obvious alteration initially is one that changes the non-verbal nature of the characters of the short, to the more generally present speech in the feature. This can’t help but dispel some of the mystery, as background details are explained to the viewer and character motivations made more obvious, but for a film doing the rounds at mainstream cinemas this is probably a necessary development (though Wall-E admirably proved that successful long periods of non-dialogue in film-making could still be achieved). Much like in the short, the numerical little things that wander around in the conceptual dark are threatened by huge mechanical monsters as 9 himself tries to make some sense of the world and where they all came from. The primary action sequence of the short is exploited somewhat here to throw several such set pieces at the viewer, thereby maintaining interest in an audience that is all too easily bored nowadays. These are well executed scenes that inadvertently walk a tightrope when it comes to balancing the integrity of the original vision, especially as far as the presence of kung-fu fighting female number 7 is concerned (voiced by lovely Jennifer Connelly), a slightly contrived addition to the mythos that’s undoubtedly there to enhance appeal to certain youthful portions of any potential audience. Speaking of which, it is surprising to find that an animated feature nowadays has done so little to sell itself to children - the film is almost completely devoid of humour and the offbeat concept combined with dark imagery is not necessarily going to facilitate popularity with the young beasts that will one day be running our councils.

It’s to be appreciated that the imposing stylistic imagery of the short is closely adhered to in the feature, from the doll-like protagonists (looking almost identical to one another) to the apocalyptic backdrop that serves as the setting, and compositions are notable in the thoughtfulness behind them. Rather than taking on a similarly quirky score (and partly abandoning the relentless industrial sound design of the original) it’s notably unfortunate that the producers opted for a fairly generic orchestral outing, again eroding away slightly at the strangeness given birth by the source. The marginally clichéd conclusion is certainly preceded by plenty of unusual ideas, picturesque feasts for the eyes, a pace that’s not completely compliant with the norm, and the manifestation of technical talent in the telling of a story that has its fair share of fast moments alongside a handful that are just a tiny bit touching.

While 9 is not quite all it could have been (that would have resulted in a non-cinematic voyage for the outing almost surely) it has to be said that the film does keep one’s attention fixed, the animation itself is throughout very attractive, both in design and motion, and it’s highly commendable that a project like this can be whisked from the underground into mainstream by Hollywood’s midfield players. There’s plenty to enjoy and saviour here, though the masterpiece that the short film (as well as the trailer that sold this movie to me in the first place) perhaps hinted at is regrettably absent.

*Update* I recently picked up 9 on Blu-ray - the digibook version to be specific, although I suspect the standard edition is exactly the same disc from Universal.  The digibook is very attractive and worth a couple of extra pounds in my opinion.  The Blu-ray image, full HD of course, is not super sharp but particularly nice on a LED display whereby its full dynamic range can be appreciated - the film has a very painterly look that translates well to Blu.  There's a chance that the film was rendered in HD or possibly 2K, so this may be the best it will ever look.  Audio is very good and a few standard Hollywood-esque extras make for decent one-time viewing.  The best extra is the inclusion of the original short, begging for comparison to the main feature.

Castle of the Walking Dead

1967, West Germany, Directed by Harold Reinl

Colour, Running Time: 80 minutes

Review Source: Download; Image: Letterbox 1.66:1, Audio: Mono

Beginning the tale a century or so ago, we along with a group of angry villagers witness the sentencing and quartering of an evil count found guilty of brutal crimes against humanity. Jumping forward a few years an eminent scholar, affectionately called 'Roger', is on his way to an ancient castle to learn more about his family history. Stopping off at a village within the vicinity he discovers a certain degree of hostility whenever the castle is mentioned but pushes on with his trip regardless. On his long coach ride to the mysterious destination he rescues a nubile young female and her servant from travelling marauders and together they all continue their journey through the forest. Passing through morbidly decorated woodland their coach driver is brought to his own demise, bringing about an awareness of ubiquitous death in the air. Arriving at the castle nonetheless it soon becomes apparent that the corpse-like keeper of the place is working towards the resurrection of the count who was horrifically executed so long ago, and the guests at the castle are just the materials he needs to conclude his experiments with immortality.

Masquerading in parts (including YouTube) under the rather misleading title of The Torture Chamber of Dr Sadism (boasting even more misleading poster art!) this Euro chiller from the sixties is much more appealing under its Castle of the Walking Dead moniker, however the German title (Die Schlangengrube und Das Pendel) more so reflects the opening credit nod towards Edgar Allan Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum, probable influence being derived from the moderate success of Roger Corman’s Poe cycle of the period. The story itself was of course already adapted effectively by Corman at the beginning of the same decade with Barbara Steele and Vincent Price in lead roles, and a respectable job it was in terms of cinema at least. Here the Germans brought their own interpretation of proceedings and whilst there are elements that couldn’t be considered entirely original even back then, certain sequences have been realised imaginatively to produce unique imagery: the prime example of this is the prolonged coach ride through the woods, with corpses hanging from the trees amidst an artistically lit environment - quite exquisite in a ghoulish sort of way. Christopher Lee appears on screen for fairly short periods, playing Count Regula (errr, okay), the man who is executed and later brought back to life in an attempt to grasp at immortality. His presence is striking as usual, made more impressive by deathly make-up and an omnipresent expression of sombreness. The characters spend most of the last half of the story occupying the castle of Roger’s (Lex Barker) destination, and a glorious Gothic delight it is; full of traps, dark passages, walls made of skulls, and inhospitable rooms, it’s the sort of place I’d love to explore. Also standing in the movie’s favour is an aesthetically pleasant approach to cinematography generally (marred by occasionally clumsy editing), giving birth to some striking landscape shots as well as accentuating the claustrophobic interiors. Finally we have the Kraut contribution to the Euro babe: Karin Dor! Wow, I wish she had been a bit more widely used in these kinds of Gothic chillers: a voluptuous, elegant, and effortlessly beautiful scream queen that grants bonus points to the film’s visual appeal. The film is a little let down by its old fashioned English dubbing (though Lee definitely provides his own voice), and a slowly paced final act (in fact, the whole outing is quite leisurely), however there is plenty to recommend it to the fan of European macabre cinema.

This is one of those films that has never been treated particularly respectfully on home video, with transfers ranging from fullscreen to widescreen with generally lacklustre picture quality and often footage missing. Presumably it’s a so-called ‘public domain’ title as I watched it in its entirety on YouTube and whilst I’m not in favour of free downloading of movies (even though in this case it was legal!) it does give the serious collector the opportunity to specimen titles which might ordinarily be avoided. In my case I’d been looking forward to watching this film ever since reading about it in the monolithic Aurum Horror Encyclopaedia so many years ago, and it didn’t let me down. I’d certainly like to buy a restored version of the movie should it ever appear, though it does seem unlikely given its present status. At least the presentation online was 1.66:1, with picture quality approximating something between VHS and DVD, with audio clear enough. If you’re interested in a DVD it has been made available stateside from low-end labels such as KEF Films and Thrill Kill, whilst Image Entertainment once put out their own disc. There has been a UK release in the last few months but my expectations aren't high.  Finally, there was a German release under the aforementioned title ‘Die Schlangengrube und das Pendel’, which is reportedly a reasonable edition.  I’m personally waiting - probably in vain - for a worthwhile restoration.

The House of Seven Corpses

1973, US, Directed by Paul Harrison

Colour, Running Time: 88 minutes

Review Source: DVD, R1, Geneon; Image: 1.33:1, Audio: DD Mono

Not likely to be confused with Rob Zombie’s contemporary-but-retro violence-fest of similar name, this is a cumbersome early seventies zombie 'thriller' that exhibits a certain level of TV style amateurishness in its execution. A small group of film-makers are shooting some sort of historical dramatisation in an old house where several homicides took place a century or so before. In his eternal quest for authenticity the director Eric Hartman picks up anything at hand to bring a touch of verisimilitude to his otherwise lacklustre production, and this includes getting the cast members to recite from the Tibetan Book Of The Dead, a tome they fatefully discover lying around the premises. One of the overly enthusiastic actors takes great interest in the book and uses it for a little light bedtime reading, accidentally reciting a rite to raise the dead, which subsequently causes one of the ghouls buried in the graveyard outside to crawl out of his earthly resting place, make his way towards the house and cause bloody havoc.

Even at less than 90 minutes this film slithers along at a watch-watching pace. Primarily the problem stems from a plot that is too thin for feature length, but it’s not helped by a cast utterly lacking in compelling charisma, along with Harrison’s mundane direction (it‘s no surprise this is the only feature he ever helmed). The story staggers from one hopelessly uninteresting scene to another, alternating between the persistently angry Hartman shooting his actors (usually one of them stabbing another), and the actors expressing themselves to each other in embarrassing ways. There are attempts at humour but these are scripted by Harrison and Tom Kelly, who between them seem to have little sense of humour at all, the lines then being uttered by a Z grade cast just about burying any hope that the script might have had in its genesis. A similarly themed film from the same period is Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things, and much more successful it is on many levels - viewers would be advised to seek out that one before scraping the bottom of the barrel to exhume this lifeless piece of celluloid. Sam Raimi would also take similar ideas and do it properly a few years later. Of course, because House of Seven Corpses concentrates on the film within a film concept, it goes without saying that it begins with a mock piece where some woman is performing a black magic ritual only for us to be ‘surprised’ to find it’s all simply being staged for a camera. This is of course a cliché nowadays, but the fact that it’s dragged out to the 7 minute mark in an 88 minute film demonstrates that they were stretching everything out to pad this rotting fingernail. On the plus side, the ghoul that comes to life is quite funky looking but so slow moving that his victims have to clumsily knock themselves out to give him any chance of catching up with them. Therefore any suspense that could have been built up is not only lost through boredom, but is thoroughly banished by the inefficacy of the walking dead man. Had this been made by the Europeans it might have had some charm to see it through, but as it stands it’s mostly a waste of time. One more thing to mention, an elderly John Carradine is present for a few screen minutes to bring some metaphorical weight to the production - it doesn’t work, but if there are Carradine completists out there this film might have a molecular amount of value…

Having owned an old UK videocassette that originated from the eighties I sold it at a boot sale over 10 years ago. I wonder why - somehow I’d forgotten how boring the film was and later tracked down the Geneon DVD of the film, thinking it may hold something of interest to my more mature outlook. Of course I was mistaken, but at least the disc didn’t cost much. Arriving in a slimline amaray case this is a featureless disc with a rough but bearable 4:3 transfer that needs to be darkened by your AV equipment to hide most of its flaws. It’s also over saturated, however, definition is reasonable and it actually doesn‘t look that bad projected, admittedly following very low expectations. Despite the fact that this is a sub-ordinary DVD release it more than does this film justice… It was also released by Image (in the US) on DVD and VHS at the beginning of the century, something that’s long out of print and occasionally asking an unreasonably high price online - don’t be fooled!

Phenomena

1985, Italy, Directed by Dario Argento

Colour, Running Time: 115 minutes

Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Arrow; Image: 1080p 24fps 1.66:1, Audio: LPCM Stereo

Taking a side step away from the style of story mechanics that Argento is more accustomed to, Phenomena introduces elements of the supernatural and fairy tales to what would otherwise have been the very conventional reiteration of a killer on the loose parable. Jennifer (Connelly) is a young girl moving into a boarding school in the vicinity of a recent horrific killing. She is the sensitive type, communicating psychically as she does with insects, sleep walking whilst vividly dreaming, and generally being at odds with the schoolmates who eventually ostracise her for her differences. Her friendship with the town's resident entomologist (a Scottish Donald Pleasance...) leads Jennifer to use her connection with insects to get closer to the facts of the violent murder, thereby hopefully discovering who the killer is.

Phenomena is played out at generally modest pace, while the killings, if you're expecting emphasis of such after viewing some of Argento's other work, are infrequent but still violent and extravagantly staged. The details of the plot lack plausibility but I guess you wouldn't expect too much else from the writers (i.e. Argento and Franco Ferrini) if you have already seen Demons, Opera, etc. The whole story is told carefully with various characters incorporating relevance that leads indirectly to who the killer actually is. It is also peppered with foreshadowing specifics that hold weight further down the line (for example, the entomologist demonstrating to the chimp that a switchblade knife is dangerous). The finale goes a little overboard in its attempts to surprise the audience in my opinion but the journey arriving at that point is a satisfactory one. In particular for me are the sequences located in the mountainside - tangibly atmospheric and having a tendency to tingle the flesh. The opening seven minutes - in which a girl misses the bus and, not really knowing what to do, goes wandering off along the windy fields to her demise - is one of my favourite Argento sequences across the entire range of his cinematic work. Special mention must go to the soundtrack here (in part composed by Goblin), frequently embellishing the footage with a strong emotional core, although I don't think the use of Iron Maiden's Flash of the Blade is necessarily the best option here, despite being a fan of Maiden's 80s material myself. Dario was caught up in the idea of utilising metal tracks with some of his 80s productions, seemingly as a means to simply make them more culturally relevant rather than because it was best for the movie (Demons excluded). Having said that, Motörhead's Locomotive (borrowed from the No Remorse album that followed the near breakdown of the band) truly kicks ass in any context. Phenomena feels a little different when considered alongside Argento's other movies, but analysis and repeat viewings are likely to be kind to your opinion of this film - it's a good experience, especially when one thinks about the disappointing output of the director from the late 90s onwards.

General opinion of the film was not helped by the fact that it was butchered at the hands of its distribution company for the original theatrical and video runs - half an hour (!) was removed before it was released at the time as Creepers (this was in turn then cut by a further 6 to 17 seconds for film/video respectively in the UK by the BBFC). The longer version has since been released a couple of times on DVD by Anchor Bay in the US, as well as by Medusa in Europe, and a substandard (but at least containing the longer cut) Divid2000 disc appeared over here in the UK. Watching Phenomena in HD (the full version, now completely uncut) is particularly rewarding - the photography of the Swiss mountains is stunning and this is most notably apparent on Arrow's Blu-ray. Thankfully Arrow have commandeered an exemplary transfer that looks natural, thoroughly stable, and very detailed throughout; quite beautiful to behold in fact. Where some viewers may not appreciate this is in the periodic macro shots of insects and maggots - if you're interested in seeing the individual hairs of a fly's mouth then it's all here! And the cesspool that Jennifer falls into towards the end of the film has never been more repulsive than it is in this resolution - truly stomach churning. Audio is thoughtfully supplied in two tracks - English (with a few seconds of Italian/German where scenes weren't entirely dubbed in English) and Italian, both uncompressed stereo. English subtitles are of course provided. The score sounds particularly powerful, whereas some of the dialogue varies in quality and often sound effects are clearly still living in the decade they were created - a faithful audio representation nonetheless. Also included is a 52 minute making-of documentary, a short interview with the highly talented Claudio Simonetti (co-founding member of Goblin), plus a 19 minute Q&A session with Sergio Stivaletti, who was involved with the special make-up effects on the film before embarking on a notable career that has involved him with a number of acknowledged productions over the years (note, he also recorded a brief introduction for this disc that plays before the film begins).   In addition, Arrow include a reversible disc-case sleeve granting you four front cover options, and a two-sided poster, all within a cardboard slipcase. This is a highly commendable package for a movie that's arguably better than it was once thought of.

Infestation

2009, US, Directed by Kyle Rankin
Colour, Running Time: 91 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Icon; Image: 1080p 24fps 1.85:1, Audio: DTS HD

The contemporary monster movie can boast much more credibility than its 50s grandparents, thanks to a combination of significantly improved special effects technology and the enhanced sophistication of film-making generally. However, modern films of said genre can also attract accusations referring to a lack of the charm or soul that the hand-crafted creatures of yesteryear would frequently lend to their productions. It’s therefore quite pleasing if a product of the millennium onwards can come along and, er, bite you on the ass to surprise/shock/thrill you. Infestation bears noticeable resemblance to the previous 2007 Stephen King adaptation The Mist, at least on paper. The obvious difference being, evident from the Blu-ray cover or any marketing material that might catch your eye, is the injection of a large dose of humour - which can work strongly in favour of or against a film, pretty much mostly dependent on who you have watching it. Office boy Cooper is the loser you’ll find milling around most organisations: bit of a joker, part waster, not much of a contributor, but somehow they get on in life anyway. Destined to remain in trouble for one thing or another with his lady boss he’s about to get a telling off which will probably result in his dismissal when everyone including him suddenly blacks out. When he regains consciousness he finds himself wrapped up in a web-like substance, and briskly attacked by some nasty giant beetle-thing of some species. Managing to fend the creepy-crawly off he proceeds to wake his similarly oblivious colleagues before undertaking confused conversations/arguments about what to do. They quickly realise the whole surrounding locale is in the same situation, and there are hundreds of the giant bugs going about their genocidal business, too many of them in flying swarms. Losing some of the team to that fatal affliction known as death, and gaining a few others they head out on the road towards various relatives of theirs in order to find survivors amongst them and possibly discover what the hell is going on.

As mentioned, there are some conceptual similarities to The Mist - a mysterious bug invasion of Earth, a group of survivors thrown together, etc - but the overall feel is quite different. Firstly there is the aforementioned humour, applied quite liberally to Infestation and for the most part working very well to make its creepy-crawly world a fun place to be (from an outsider’s perspective!). Secondly, whilst the main bunch in The Mist remain trapped within one location for much of the film’s duration, the survivors here escape from their initial prison in the story’s early stages, essentially turning this into a minor road movie as they move from place to place hoping their relatives are okay while looking for some answers or revenge. Repeatedly coming under threat from roaming or flying bugs there is a persistent edginess to their adventure, and the fundamentally horrible nature of the creatures - beetle-like things expanded to human size - brings genuine gooey tension to these sequences of conflict. I frequently found myself cringing as these lethal insects attempted to despatch as many humans as possible in their evident quest for colonisation. An added dimension to the takeover of Earth becomes apparent when a hybrid insect-human monster is discovered, a bastard juxtaposition that is sinister both conceptually and in its onscreen manifestation. The humour is something that’s likely to divide the enjoyment of viewers but in my opinion it was a suitable updating of the comedy horrors that proliferated during the eighties, with mainman Chris Marquette (Cooper) handling the cool script rather well. Despite the marketing emphasis on the funnier side of the film there are a few moments of mild and touching drama that help to flesh out the characters and rope in our sympathies to a certain extent. A good example of this is Kinsey Packard’s Cindy, a weatherwoman appearing to be a bit of a hottie on the surface, but turning out to be a tragic loner with numerous complexes going on under the bonnet.

With suitable measures of terror, smiles, and engaging thrills plus drama, Infestation is for me a very successful foray into sci-fi comedy horror, something which I’ll be looking forward to visiting again. The Blu-ray Disc is a great way to experience the film, with consistently bright, chromatic and detailed images embellished by a thumping DTS Master Audio surround track. With most modern films seemingly being rendered in a 2.35:1 ratio, it’s also a welcome change to be watching movies in 1.85:1, a ratio that inherently contains more detail on home video due to its close approximation of the 1.78:1 standard (i.e. full HD resolution). Anyway, for those who feel that this film contains ingredients that appeal to them, I recommend picking up this disc pronto.