UK Blues...

Lots of nice shit to look out for in the near future - on Blu-ray in the UK:

Child's Play (the one with Chucky) and Misery at the beginning of October;
Blade, which I personally wasn't a great fan of, which joins its sequels which are already out;
The lovely Prometheus in lots of different incarnations also near the beginning of October;
A dual release of the Japanese head-fuck-fest Tetsuo and Tetsuo II from Third Window Films;
Halloween 4 and 5 for extremely generous prices from Anchor Bay (probably the same as the US equivalents);
Vincenzo Natali's highly innovative debut feature Cube;
The 3D onslaught continues with Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter;
The surprising appearance of the Basket Case trilogy... as a bloody steelbook(!);
Company of Wolves, again as a steelbook following an earlier, more conventional release;
Puppet Master II and III from the extremely promising 88 Films (the first one's already out);
The Blood Beast Terror, an oddly subdued Peter Cushing flick about human-moth hybrids;
Joined together for the first time (sorry...), The Human Centipede 1 and 2, in steelbook form;
At the beginning of November, the Ghostbusters return as a steelbook;
Hellboy and The Evil Dead also land in steelbook form, probably lazy releases with no changes to the discs themselves (aaarrrgggghhhh!  Evil Dead should be 1.33:1, not widescreen!);
Santa Sangre seeing its British HD première;
Subspecies, again from 88 Films;
Zombie Flesh Eaters from Arrow (steelbook, plus dual, plus LE 4-sided cover etc) - let's hope they hit the ball out of the park on this one;
The Titty Twister Edition (i.e. a boxed set with loads of paraphernalia) of From Dusk Till Dawn;
An 8 film, 10 disc boxed set devoted to most of the stuff Quentin Tarantino is known for;
Castle Freak has unfortunately been pushed back until January; mine's on pre-order.

Strange Behaviour

1981, US/New Zealand, Directed by Michael Laughlin
Colour, Running Time: 95 minutes
DVD, Region 2, Hardgore, Video: Anamorphic 2.35:1, Audio: DD Mono

The cover of Hardgore’s DVD might fool people into thinking they’re picking up a homicidal mutant flick but the film is more of a twist on the old mad doctor movies, mixed with a little genuine psychological theory to keep its head above water (not that mad doctor movies necessarily needed that but the injection of credible science brings a touch of freshness). Pete Brady, a college student in a small American town (actually a New Zealand town for tax reasons but we would never have noticed), is in dire financial straits and takes up on the suggestion of a peer to earn some extra cash at the local laboratory, giving himself over to an experiment of which he has almost no prior knowledge - obviously the resident scientists would have to go for students with this scam because few others would be stupid enough to succumb... Meanwhile a number of deaths are occurring around the town, the perpetrators being college students inexplicably acting out of character. When Pete actually shows up for his appointment he’s promptly strapped into a chair, reassured that everything’s fine and injected with a horrifically large needle; later Pete himself is beginning to act a little on the unusual side but can his policeman father stop him before he does something nasty?

The film-makers have done a reasonable job of crafting a moderately professional offering with an obviously minimal budget, constructing a story that requires only people, locations, and a few nicely executed gore effects. Though Hardgore would have you believe otherwise when purchasing their UK DVD, there are no crazy mutants in this film (the image in question is actually a homicidal teen wearing a cool Tor Johnson mask), but there are kids who have been manipulated into behaving against their normal conduct at the hands of a scientific organisation headed by an ancient professor who has somehow acquired extended longevity. Unlike today’s fright flicks the kids of early eighties horror were bearable and actually quite likable on occasions (today’s pretty young hipsters generally have the audience rooting for the killers) so the bunch here score marks for eliciting a modicum of sympathy - they include Dan Shor from Tron and Strange Invaders, hot babe Dey Young, and Marc McClure who played Jimmy Olsen in the Superman movies! Theories were formulated and proven decades ago by the likes of Thorndike and Skinner to present to us today great insight into how humans and other organisms learn through voluntary actions in response to stimuli that persuades them to act or avoid depending on the expected outcome - this was called operant conditioning and forms the basis for some of the ideas in the film. Whilst liberties have been taken with these theories it makes a pleasurable change to find a film with a little thought in academic areas. The other real bonus is a catchy and emotively executed score by Tangerine Dream, a marvellous synthesiser instrumental specialist outfit from Germany who produced many noteworthy albums outside of cinema, plus created scores for the likes of the innovative vampire movie Near Dark, Ridley Scott’s mess of a fantasy Legend, and Firestarter (before Drew Barrymore became a drug-lovin’ lesbian… I assume). There’s a pretty groovy disco/party episode as well that will have viewers smiling. On the downside Strange Behaviour (or Dead Kids as it was known in some territories) is slow moving and hardly shot with boundless energy - the camerawork is often quite static while the killings themselves have an oddly laid back pace about them. The film rarely succeeds in exciting the viewer in any way, however you might consider checking it out for its positive aspects but it’s not necessarily one that will have you repeatedly reaching for it on dark stormy nights.

Hardgore’s DVD presents the film well enough considering the depths they often stooped to, surprisingly anamorphically enhanced to its full Panavision ratio, well detailed and coloured quite naturally, if perhaps a little under saturated. In a move that could in truth be a sick homage to the subject matter of the film, the caveat here is that the BBFC have censored it by around 40 seconds - a scene depicting suicide in such detail that it would have had mindless Brits topping themselves everywhere (could have been a useful ploy to cull the ridiculously expanding population, but I digress...). I’m sure if one is so inclined to voluntarily cease their own existence they wouldn’t be using Strange Behaviour as a step-by-step guide to aid them on their journey to The Beyond - whilst I can understand removal of scenes that depict real life animal cruelty (e.g. Deep River Savages) this is the sort of thing that tends to irritate me somewhat, especially in the Internet age where people can access pretty much anything they want online without having to track down nasty gore films to fulfil their insatiable blood lust. If this removal of footage bothers you then the version to go for was once released by Synapse in the US. Having said all that, Strange Behaviour was submitted to the board around 2004 and perhaps attitudes may well differ these days. The Hardgore disc also features a written interview with writer Bill Condon, the man who later got involved with the Candyman franchise as well as netting himself an Oscar for Gods and Monsters. Finally there are a selection of trailers (one or two of them extremely bad) for a handful of other Hardgore DVDs, some of which persuaded me to avoid them like the plague - presumably not the intended effect. Butchered anyone? Somehow I don’t think so…

Requiem for a Vampire

1971, France, Directed by Jean Rollin
Colour, Running Time: 87 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region A, Redemption; Video: 1.66:1 1080p 24fps, Audio: LPCM Mono

Two young females with a propensity for thieving are forced to escape into the countryside by themselves after their male partner is shot during a high speed car chase. Removing their clown make-up, and therefore rendering themselves unidentifiable, they rob a motorcycle before stopping off at a hot dog stall to steal some food (talk about kleptomania!). However their travels seem to be destined to take a turn for the mystical when they stumble across a desolate graveyard in the middle of nowhere. Catching up on some sleep (and nearly getting buried alive in the case of one of the girls) they head off on their meandering journey only to discover an isolated castle that initially seems deserted. Taking up camp inside one of the oddly inviting rooms they get down to a bit of lesbian skin-rubbing before it becomes apparent to them that they are not alone: the castle is inhabited by a number of vampires and their human minions, all ruled over by a dying vampire who needs new ‘blood’ in the family to keep the demon gene alive. The girls are soon infected and dragged into a world of amorality and debauchery.

Jean Rollin’s fourth feature length film continued a development of the themes that he would eventually become renowned for amongst the small pockets of cult fans around the world who remain devoted to his work to this day. Rollin’s approach here appears to be fairly relaxed as the film rolls on with little sense of urgency, stretching out a minimalist plot to create a dreamy fantasy world populated by unusual people whose behavioural patterns will barely be recognisable to the likes of us. Absorbed in the right way Requiem… can be an immersing experience, constructing around the viewer an enticing supernatural domain where sex and death collide without regard for the heavily religious construct that we generally find ourselves trapped within. Conventional film-making is no point of comparison when it comes to analysing the works of Jean Rollin, as many of his fans would surely attest, therefore there is little here that will attract followers of the mainstream. A film such as this is more like a forbidden treasure appreciated by just a few, whilst the rest of humanity remains blissfully oblivious to what’s really there. Not aiding any commercial appeal, Requiem… plays almost like a silent movie for much of its running time, telling its story by the actions of the two girls, rather than words. With the first half of the movie playing almost completely without dialogue, the script itself must surely have used up no more than a few pages. Breaking up the barren silence our attention is maintained partly by occasionally insane music punctuated by more melodic interludes, making this movie feel like an epic prog rock track reconstructed visually, and the soundtrack truly comes into its own during the show-stopping dungeon orgy/rape sequence where several of the vampire’s human neanderthal minions force themselves on a group of chained women, spiralling intensity towards near fever pitch. This was the scene that really caused a problem for the BBFC in the UK and even Rollin himself has claimed that it went on for too long (several screen minutes), but call me a perverted crazy man, I love it! It’s surreal, sexy, violent, defiantly non-PC, and completely mad. The more macabre elements of the movie are not spine-tingling in the slightest, but there is a skewed gothic edge which keeps one leg rooted in horror, an innate genre acknowledgement common to most of Rollin’s non-pornographic outings - it’s unlikely to satisfy those more accustomed to the conventional slasher or torture films that proliferate these days. One of Rollin’s other strengths is demonstrated here in abundance: great choice and photography of natural (i.e. non-set based) locations. The castle, cemetery, and surrounding countryside is quite a feast for the eyes. Finally the protagonists are typical for this director - two nubile young women with a tendency towards physically relating to one another, making their way through an alien world which they have no real inclination to question. Nobody made films like Jean Rollin and this one - shot in his prime - is one of the best examples of his work.

This old US Redemption/Image DVD has been superseded with better quality discs from Encore and more recently Redemption themselves. Its non-anamorphic transfer was a mess with interlacing issues, haze, moiré effects, and some digital problems that I’ve never even seen anywhere else. It was higher in detail than the Redemption VHS tape I bought in the nineties, but only marginally (although I was glad for this at the time I bought the DVD due to the old UK tape being heavily cut). Thank heavens they eventually reissued it on DVD, and now Blu-ray. The new BD blows away the old DVD in every respect. There are no noticeable digital flaws, simply a film-like image with balanced colour and nice detail. There was a special edition DVD of the film a few years ago from Encore, which appeared to be ramped up in the brightness department with a different hue. The Blu-ray is a little more detailed, but colour and brightness certainly are more natural. Sound is appreciably provided in original French language with good subtitles, and no other way should it be viewed (there is an English dub but personally I can't see anyone remotely interested in this film watching it that way, unless they really do hate subtitled material). The Encore DVD does, however, win in the extras department, but on the BD you get an introduction from the late director, an 18 minute documentary on the film, a ten minute interview with Louise Dhour, some trailers and a nice booklet. Great release from the revitalised Redemption, courtesy of Kino Lorber - the best AV experience of the film, possibly forever, although owners of the Encore set will want to keep it for the mostly unique extras.

Nightmares Come At Night

1970, France, Directed by Jess Franco
Colour, Running Time: 84 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, Hardgore; Video: 1.33:1, Audio: DD Mono

We take a moment to peer into the insane world of that Spanish auteur/madman (depending on who's judging...) Jess Franco, the director who’s created movies that even some of his ardent fans hate the sight of. Amidst an excessive proliferation of creative output there have been a few nails hit and some may consider it worth wading through the excrement to find them. Alternatively you may let us poor, tormented reviewers do it for you… A popular nightclub dancer’s act of strange and slow-paced erotica lures the eye of an eccentric mademoiselle and the naïve woman is enticed back to a house where she is almost held willing captive for some period of time, the metaphoric bars being the promise of fame/fortune, etc. During this time she repeatedly finds herself experiencing lucid dreaming, progressively confusing what’s actually happening around her with what’s possibly pure imaginative fantasy. The dreams take on a sadistic and increasingly sexual tone as the woman’s perceptions distort and sanity begins to crumble. Is she losing her mind or is there something more calculating going on with her mistress or the strange people across the street who peer at her from behind closed windows?

The aura of Nightmares… is appropriately dreamlike and surreal, as in many of Franco’s better works. Whether intentional or not, the misty look of the image accommodates the uncanny nature of the material aptly, and our perception of what’s really going on is blurred with efficacy until closer to the conclusion. The crowning creative achievement, however, is Bruno Nicolai’s necessarily schizophrenic score, swiftly alternating at the drop of a hat between psychedelic jazz (a musical genre which I believe Franco loved) and the haunting whining of strings - he understands what Franco was trying to capture on film and accentuates it. The soundtrack is an integral part of the beauty to be found here. Conversely Franco’s cinematic techniques can be quite irritating at times: his compositions seem to be largely random, and that damned zoom lens (a staple of many of his works) should have been banned. Strangely these once despised camera techniques oddly foreshadow some of the methods adopted by today's mainstream epileptic cameramen... For the most part the underlying story can be seen as a feeble excuse for consistent softcore pornography as the females relentlessly stroll around either naked or titillatingly exposed to varying degrees - it’s actually quite steamy and makes for comfortable entertainment on a couple of levels. Unfortunately the narrative is undermined by an attempt in the final act to authenticate the preceding events by returning the story to earth, thereby dissolving the mysterious ambience that had been built up. Franco drops the ball here and a shame it is because he inadvertently or otherwise had something quite ethereal and sexy on his hands up until that point. It is nevertheless essential viewing for Franco fans and those who might enjoy seventies eroticism or surreal fantasy. Everyone else may be driven mad.

Hardgore’s DVD would appear to be a convert of the earlier Shriek Show release, containing similar specifications and extras. The film has its original title over the credits (La Cauchemars Naissent la Nuit) but alas the audio is presented in awful dubbed English. The SS disc contained a French language option in addition to the English, so this alone makes it a clear winner. The Hardgore is well stocked aside from that sad omission: a twenty three minute featurette on the Eurocine production company, originators of many a terrible movie alongside a few minor gems too - quite a few clips of rare pieces are included. This is followed by a twenty four minute interview with an aging but jovial Jess Franco, though I found his thick accent hard to follow at times. A fake trailer for Nightmares… is also present alongside a large number of trailers for other Hardgore releases, some of them worth watching, some of them need to be avoided but this at least gives you an idea which of their other discs might suit your tastes. I really can’t stand some of the modern shot-on-video timewasters showcased in this trailer section, on the other hand a few of the pre-nineties movies (The Boneyard and Creepozoids for example) bring back memories and I may try to pick them up. Taking Hardgore’s DVD (admittedly nicely designed) cover art into consideration, much is made of Soledad Miranda’s involvement in Nightmares Come At Night but it should be noted the ill-fated beauty only has a small role, though she does get quite a portion of the extras devoted to her one way or another, and her costumes on screen in the movie itself are on the rather hot side… Nightmares… is an erotically-charged exploration of surrealism with expository flaws that could have been avoided, and aside from a soft, non-progressive image and English-only audio, it gives Hardgore their best DVD I’ve yet seen (thanks more so to US-based Media Blasters).

Scars of Dracula

1970, UK, Directed by Roy Ward Baker
Colour, Running Time: 95 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R1, Anchor Bay; Video: Anamorphic 1.85:1, Audio: DD Mono

As the cinema world moved on in terms of sophistication and evolution, so Hammer remained almost static (increases in gore and nudity aside) as they made an almost unnoticeable transition into the seventies. At the time their films may have began to appear old fashioned or tired but several decades on it hardly seems to matter as their output has taken on a cult status that many collectors today really get into. So after a run of several well concocted sequels in their Dracula franchise during the sixties Anthony Hinds wrote what became the studio's most sadistic and cruel interpretation of all - possibly an attempt to modernise, perhaps a reaction to diminished censorship restrictions... A young, carefree individual is caught in the aftermath of having had ‘relations’ with the burgomaster’s daughter and makes his escape by leaping from a window and landing in a horse/cart combo that carries him off into the wilderness. Coming across a melancholy village that’s in the grip of Dracula’s reign of terror Paul attempts to claim a room for the night by persuading yet another woman to mate with him, only to be turned away by the paranoid innkeeper, thus he hides in another horse and carriage as he’s whisked off again, this time to the castle owned by the infamous count. There the initial hospitality of the count, residing with his servant and a nymph, begins to turn sour as the count interrupts a love-making session between Paul and the young woman (this man‘s a love machine!). The count brutally stabs the woman as Paul stares on in shock, but as the sun comes up Dracula has gone - and the door has been locked. Already in trouble Paul is now locked in a room with a murdered woman! The castle itself is built precariously on the edge of a cliff and, ever resourceful, Paul attaches several sheet together and makes his way down the side to where he can see another window below. What he doesn’t realise until he gets there is that the window is the only entrance/exit to a crypt where the vampire sleeps by day; Paul is not seen again, or at least not alive… Later on his brother and part-time girlfriend attempt to retrace Paul’s steps having not seen him for some time, this leading them to the very same village, castle, and ultimate threat.

There are a multitude of real problems with Scars…, the first being the terribly unimaginative prologue establishing Dracula’s relationship with the nearby village. Basically a bat releases some blood on to Dracula’s cape, this reviving him, before a corpse shows up with holes in its neck. This prompts the villagers to go on a rampage attempting to burn the castle but only enraging the count in the process as he has the worshippers of the church massacred in a fit of deliberate blasphemy. Aside from the church massacre the ten minute introduction is woefully outdated and doesn’t set great expectation for what’s to come. Then there are two factors that cursed Hammer from the beginning, two things they never could get right: day-for-night photography, which never works and was overused; and those ridiculous bats! Seriously, even back in the sixties and seventies these hopeless bouncing rubber things surely didn’t convince anyone. And as if to rub out faces in bat shit, the damn things turn up at every single possible opportunity - they’re an embarrassment. Finally the overall problem is an obvious reduction in production values - the sets looks cheap and I think Roy Ward Baker has expressed his disappointment in the past over his arrival after accepting the script, only to find there was far less money available than what he thought would do the story justice. The climax - not to give anything away but it features a large burning thing falling from the castle top, down the side of a cliff- is a demonstration of god-awful special effects. Based on these issues Scars… may not be looking too hot - however! Once the prologue is out of the way and we’re introduced to Paul, his brother (a young Dennis Waterman) and their spicy female associate (Jenny Hanley) things look up. Paul’s antics get him into some comedic trouble forming the catalyst for a supernatural adventure into the unknown, as one obstacle leads to yet another increasingly difficult one and Paul spirals further into strife until his very existence is in the shadow of the vampire - these escalating events catch you off guard after the mundane opening sequence, suddenly leading to quite an eerie series of situations. This is maintained as Paul’s brother and girl retrace the same route, Hanley is quickly dressed down to clothing far saucier, and the violence is stepped up a notch. Patrick Troughton’s servant character is both tragic and funny - twice during the course of the film he’s tricked into opening the door to unwanted company. On the other hand he reveals horrific scars that are routinely caused by his master as punishment for whatever the count considers to be an issue. The crypt built into the cliff wall is a great idea, both because it’s a suitably creepy hideout for the count (and an ominous place for Paul to get himself trapped in) and due to the fact that it provided Baker with an opportunity at last to have Dracula scale a vertical wall on camera - an element of Stoker’s book that hadn’t been attempted by the studio prior to this. It is brief, albeit effective. Also the inn full of hostile villagers predates that of American Werewolf, though this period piece takes place a hundred or so years into the past - the cast of the inn is headed by a perpetually angry Michael Ripper, Hammer regular as some of you may know. It’s disappointing that Hammer failed the cast, crew, and audience with a diminished budget as there is some good stuff here, almost ruined by stripped down production values. Nevertheless Scars of Dracula is a movie I’ve found myself re-watching a few times and lapping up the periodically creepy, sadistic, titillating moments that punctuate the craziness.

Anchor Bay put this out as a two disc set in the US (the feature documentary Many Faces of Christopher Lee making up disc two), uncut with a moderately soft widescreen image. Picking up the UK disc also (from Optimum) I made a comparison of the two. It seems to me that, whilst the source was probably the same, the UK transfer is slightly sharper in appearance perhaps due to a small increase in contrast. Colour is also a touch bolder on the R2; overall the UK disc looks more attractive by a small degree. It loses the documentary, however, this can be found coupled with the original Optimum UK DVD release of Dracula Prince of Darkness, so it is reasonably easy to get a hold of either way. Both UK and US releases of Scars… also contain a commentary with the director and Lee along with other minor extras such as trailers/stills, etc. Significant flaws aside I’m happy to own this film and the DVDs available are pretty good.