Tuesday 29 December 2020

Skinner

I think we have to consider ourselves lucky as film-collectors in the UK.  Skinner (1993) was nigh on lost if it were not for the efforts primarily of its writer Paul Hart-Wilden (along with help from others along the way), added to the fact that the BBFC would once have ruined this with censorship (they've today decide to mercifully leave it complete), as well as the chances of today's easily offended factions of society having something to be offended at being quite high (unfortunately that kind of whining has way more sway than it should, post millennium).  And then factor in that this is now mastered in 4K from an uncut source and put out - with decent extras - on Blu-ray, in the UK as technically the best edition in the world and ever (!), is all in all a miracle to behold.

In essence a tale about a serial-killer, back when they were quite popular on film, Skinner follows around the titular character (Skinner by name and nature - Ted Raimi) as he continues a compulsion to kill and remove/wear his victims' flesh.  Complicating matters is the detail that one of his former victims (a very tragic portrayal by Traci Lords) still lives.  Badly scarred she now seeks out Dennis Skinner in order to eventually execute her own revenge.  Along the way he lodges with an appealing young woman (Ricki Lake, surprisingly), forming a half-complete relationship with her while her husband takes immediate dislike to both the man and the boarding situation.  It's not quite hitting all the nails that could have made this a genuine cult classic, but it's not a million miles away from that classification either.  What I do like about it is its feeling of being a little bit underground, a bit sludgy and taboo.  It's quite nasty in places (very nasty in one particular prolonged sequence), not too fussed about pushing a few buttons as things weren't back then, and quite uniquely grim.


101 Films picked this up for UK distribution and added a few bells of their own.  Firstly the transfer is excellent, widescreen and sourced as mentioned above from a new 4K master using unrated elements that were very close to never seeing the light of day again.  There was once a very rough DVD of the film (succeeding prior VHS tapes and a LaserDisc), the only factor retaining value being its 4:3 presentation (i.e. opened up, as opposed to matted on the new edition).  But of course this new master, most likely now framed as intended, is leaps above anything else in terms of image colour and detail.  Shared with its US (Severin) cousin disc, there's a 20 minute interview with Hungarian-born director Ivan Nagy (shot around 2007 before his death a few years later) where he talks about how he got into directing and what he thought of the script, etc.  His controversial relationship with Heidi Fleiss is more than touched upon too (interestingly, the pursuing woman once nearly killed by Skinner was called Vicky in the script, but renamed Heidi in the filmed version...).  Ted Raimi provides a 15 minute interview where he expresses appreciation for being a part of the film.  The writer himself delivers a 17 minute insight into what he was thinking when he wrote the film and the story of the script essentially being taken away from his (London-bound, self-shooting) intentions through to loss and rediscovery.  Then we have a 10 minute piece that's a lot more fascinating than I expected it to be, a talk with the lucky guy who brought the elements back together in the 90s in order to cut (or recut) it for its then distributors.  Rounding out the extras on the discs are a 14 minute time-coded selection of outtakes from the brutal skinning sequence that centrepieces the film's horror statement, plus a trailer of course.  Aside from Severin's (who shot/compiled the extras footage) tiring inclination to repeatedly insert shots from the film as interviewees talk (e.g. someone mentions a door closing, cut to a shot of Ted Raimi in front of a door...), i.e. I would really just watch the interviews uninterrupted with pointless footage from the pertinent movie, this is a fantastic selection of talks from the people involved in Skinner.

But wait... here in the UK 101 released this (dual format Blu-ray and DVD) as part of their premium Black Label, whereby the standard edition is embellished with a quality slipcase and booklet containing (alongside stills) a fantastic essay by Paul Hart-Wilden detailing his blossoming interest in relocating the elements to Skinner and the arduous decade-long search that ensued, culminating with how it finally landed on Blu-ray in the beautiful edition that we have here.  If you are in the US the Severin disc will probably suffice, but 101 have edged it by putting out the best edition worldwide.  It's also available as a standard version here in the UK for when that Limited Edition goes out of print, but I would grab the LE if I were you.

Saturday 31 October 2020

Nosferatu The Vampyre

 Deep in the heart of Germany…

Estate agent, Jonathon, is offered the prosperous job of selling properties to a Transylvanian count but to do so must take a long trek into the isolated man’s homeland to close the deal. Thinking of career prospects and his beautiful wife, Lucy, he accepts and ventures via foot and horse into a lost world of mountains and forests, amidst which is the count’s ruined castle. Meeting the corpse-like Dracula, Jonathon closes the deal but, after realising that the villagers’ seemingly superstitious warnings of the living dead may have some foundation in truth, he soon finds himself prisoner in the castle, left to wander around for weeks as Dracula himself heads off to his new country by ship. Having spotted a picture of Lucy he’s also now out to acquire himself a new woman. Back in Wismar Dracula’s ship (now with a dead crew) arrives but unleashes on the town a horrific plague as rats pour onto the streets. Soon, mass numbers of the population are dying as the disease spreads and the vampire places his coffins at strategic points around the town; meanwhile the deeply lethargic Jonathon manages to escape before desperately attempting to head back home so he can save his otherwise doomed lover.

Taking the 1922 silent movie as a template was a fairly brave move as it was already an unofficial (and once legally denounced) version of Bram Stoker’s book and took many liberties with the source material. Thus, the Werner Herzog film can be considered more of a remake of a film than yet another adaptation of Dracula, though it certainly qualifies as the latter too. Herzog framed a number of the shots almost identically to the silent version, pre-empting the Psycho ethic that was (unsuccessfully?) adopted by Gus Van Sant a couple of decades later. It was a more relevant approach in the case of Nosferatu however because not only was it updating a silent film for sound-obsessed modern audiences, it also expanded on certain aspects and created an altogether more powerful experience. In fact, the use of sound in this version is incredibly instrumental in formulating a profound experience for viewers - the castle itself is a gothic joy to allow oneself to become a part of as wind howls through the corridors and rooms while wolves constantly whine in the distance. The music (from classical sources as well as German ambient group Popol Vuh) is overwhelmingly dark, thrusting forward an incremental feeling of impending doom like few other movies. It’s a chillingly grim world that Herzog creates. Even before that, the long journey to the castle is emphasised more here than in any other Dracula adaptation. Indeed, when Fox saw the first cut they wanted it shortened, not realising that Herzog was envisioning the metaphoric voyage of the spirit. Thankfully this is generally complete in the German cut. Use of landscape is monumental and absorbing.

The actors are well suited to their roles: Bruno Ganz as Jonathon plays an innocent man lost in a supernatural realm, doomed to a fate he cannot realistically control. Similarly, the vampire (Klaus Kinski, an actor famous for his clashes with Herzog on their many team-ups) is withered and pathetic as his deathly existence continues to sprawl meaninglessly across centuries. Kinski’s portrayal here, while not necessarily aping the Stoker character exactly, is unique and fixating. The other lead, Isabelle Adjani as Lucy, provides a captivating physical appearance coupled with melancholic presence helping us identify with her character’s futile plight. The conclusion, without giving anything away, is different to both the novel and the silent Murnau film. Unfortunately, the film was ridiculed in some quarters during its early days, not helped by the English version which was cut in the US and displayed a voice track uttered by people who couldn’t actually speak English, this alternate version having being shot simultaneously with the same cast/crew: it resulted in an oddity. The full German version gave cause to re-evaluate it but even there some may find it slow and theatrical in places. For me it works wonders and, dare I say (sorry, Stoker fans), the 1979 of Nosferatu is actually my favourite version of Dracula.

For years I’d only seen this on Fox’s old UK videotape. It had the dreaded English language track (in mono) with a fullscreen transfer, plus it had been blasphemously shortened by some twelve minutes. Even then I gradually developed an appreciation for the material, so it was some revelation when I finally picked up the first Anchor Bay US DVD just prior to the millennium: widescreen, German language, and uncut (though the monaural English cut was contained on the flip side of the disc). It was like a goldmine - what was once something that hinted at an incredible world suddenly became a beautifully nightmarish landscape of utter doom (that’s a good thing by the way). Of course it’s now one of my favourite viewing experiences. It’s been re-released by Anchor Bay various times in the US and UK but they’re basically variations on the same original disc. The transfer was good for its time but is looking quite rough now. It was eventually resurrected in the UK by BFI on Blu-ray, with a HD transfer that outshined former DVDs and audio in either English or German language (the latter having mono or 5.1 surround options).  I picked up the beautiful steelbook at the time - now long out of print - which came with a good quality booklet and lovely original poster art across the metallic exterior (see above).  The film was also available within a fairly priced Blu-ray collection of Herzog movies, and stateside from Scream Factory.

Saturday 17 October 2020

Baby Love

This is something of a little known drama from 1968, being released in various territories between 1969 and 1971.  It's a potentially controversial piece about a school girl who moves in with her new family after the death of her mother.  Despite what could have been a rosy life on the outside, the girl - Luci, played by Linda Hayden - conceals a damaged nature, and this manifests itself in her dealings with almost everyone she comes into contact with.  She possesses sexual allure for seemingly everyone who crosses her path, young/old, male/female, people just can't seem to avert their attention.  Sometimes she seems to be being taken advantage of, at others she demonstrates that she may actually be in perverse control of her questionable encounters.  During her stay with the family, everything and everyone appears to disintegrate around her.

Featuring as it does a school girl in obvious sexual situations, it's quite amazing that something like this got made, as you can see how risqué it was for its time (it received an X after some edits requested by the BBFC).  Despite only small amounts of nudity and little explicitness, even today it boasts an 18 certificate - I should imagine some of today's woke audiences would probably be more offended than viewers of the sixties, such is their nature to get offended...  Aside from an odd accent, Linda Hayden is an absolute star in the central role, perfectly cast for her natural combination of attractiveness and awareness.  Of course she went on to play some great parts in films such as Taste the Blood of Dracula, Blood on Satan's Claw, and the crowning performance which she more or less disowned, Exposé (House on Straw Hill).  Baby Love was her first feature role.

Network Entertainment have kindly put out this Studiocanal-owned film (perhaps too edgy for Studiocanal themselves to release directly) on Blu-ray.  It's been transferred from what's thought to be the last remaining film element, a 35mm interpositive.  Aside from small imperfections this 1.66:1 HD image is nice overall and particularly for such a rarity, there is absolutely nothing to complain about.  Dialogue is low in the mix with no real concerns of note for a piece of cinema of this era.  Extras are sparse: there is a still gallery, with further images on the reverse of the cover, and it's coupled (at least in its early print run) with a booklet containing essayed details of the book and movie's history (including quotes from various participants) put together by Adrian Smith, lecturer at University of Sussex.  Network Entertainment are to be congratulated for nicely preserving this equally entertaining and disturbing slice of cinema for posterity.

(As a footnote, I believe this disc is locked to Region B).

Sunday 5 April 2020

Panic Beats

Paul's (Jacinto Molina/Paul Naschy) wife is undergoing life-threatening health problems when their doctor recommends that Paul takes her away from the city for the sake of her physical wellbeing.  Luckily Paul has retained an isolated rustic family property that is expected to serve just the trick, hence they promptly head out there for a few weeks or months, however long Geneviève needs to recuperate (although the doctor doesn't sound overly optimistic).  It's not exactly a good idea from the get-go.  The minute they're out in the country Paul has to head off for petrol, leaving his already nervous-wreck of a wife waiting in the car.  In true Spanish Horror fashion, there are bandits roaming the woods, and they quickly attempt to thieve what they can from the petrified Geneviève.  In true Paul Naschy movie fashion, he quickly reappears to save the day via beating two types of manure out of the bandits.  The flustered couple arrive at the old property later on in the midst of a thunderstorm, where the housekeeper and her recently appointed assistant are preparing vegetables, as one would.  It's not long before the ancient legend of Paul's ancestor, Alaric De Marnac, is proving to be problematic - he was reputed to have butchered his lover for loving someone else many centuries prior, and is now materialising every century or so to butcher another lover in the family line - that's Geneviève.  Several ghostly and bloody goings-on ensue, with poor Geneviève finding herself in a significantly more stressed and near-death state than she was back in the city!
A damned fun movie from Naschy's mid-eighties output, there are a whole bunch of great characters in here to take pleasure in watching suffer, make sweet lovin', etc.  Naschy does his old double role thing, playing both good guy and bad guy as well as bedding the best looking women in the movie.  In this case the bad guy - Alaric - has made an appearance before Panic Beats (AKA Latidos de Pánico), back in the early seventies classic Horror Rises from the Tomb.  Of course we all know Naschy liked to regurgitate ideas and that's all part of the artistic charm.  One of the things I love about this movie, aside from its melding of Gothic and Gore, is the fact that everybody seems to be double-crossing one another.  Alaric himself doesn't seem to so bad standing next to many of these characters - at least he was honest!  A nice score against the atmospheric backdrop rounds out one of Naschy's best horror excursions.

The only release I've ever seen of this is Mondo Macabro's classic DVD, which came out in 2005.  I bought it back then and have watched it quite a few times since, as the film is always a bit of a blast.  Very good for its time (twofold because, as always, they exhumed a nearly lost gem) the picture looks quite soft by today's standards, although it's nicely framed at 1.66:1.  I should imagine this 35mm 1983 production could look splendid on HD these days.  The audio on the disc was delivered in its original Spanish language track with optional English subtitles to help.  Extras consisted of a 20 minute Spanish Horror documentary (Caroline Munro: 'The first thing you notice over there is that they don't speak English...'), a half hour documentary on the director/lead man, plus a few other titbits.  Long out of print, as I say this was a legendary release by one of the great boutique labels.