The Flesh Eaters (1964)

 I don't know if I remember things poorly or not. Sometimes, when I rewatch films I saw a long time ago, I have some distinct memories of them. Sometimes, I don't. Is it because they were heavily edited for television back then? Maybe, but in some cases, it seems almost arbitrary what got cut.

I remember, for example, watching The Thing from Another World (1951) on Superhost back in the 1970s. The scene where they are in the barracks, and the Thing bursts in, and they splash gasoline on it and set it on fire was completely cut out. It was my first time seeing the film, so... how did I know? The next week, Superhost explained that he'd gotten letters asking why that had been removed, and he went on to say it had been an editorial decision to cut it out because it was deemed 'too scary' for younger viewers... but THEN actually showed the clip of the censored portion in its entirety. It wasn't too scary for me, of course, I loved it! But it was my first dim awareness of how things came to be edited for content on television, and how perceptions of that content can vary.

(As a side note, I loved the fact that they went and re-evaluated the edit based on viewer feedback, and changed their opinion on it. You don't see that very much these days.)

Cut to this last weekend, as I rewatched the low-budget 1964 film The Flesh Eaters. 

Wow. Did they really show a film this brutal on Saturday Mad Theater back in the 70s? For kids? Yes... yes they did. I had forgotten how dark and vicious this film was, but... I remember every gore scene distinctly. This didn't get cut, from what I remember, and I'm not really certain why or how that came to be...

The film was directed by Jack Curtis (who did the cinematography under the pseudonym Carson Davidson). Curtis was primarily known as a voice actor, and did dubbing and incidental voices in films like Killer's Kiss (1955), Planet of the Vampires (1965), Godzilla vs The Thing (1964) and on television he provided the English language of many voices on Speed Racer including Pops Racer and Inspector Detector. The script was provided by comic book writer Arnold Drake, who may be best known as the creator of DC Comics Doom Patrol. Apparently, he provided very detailed storyboards for the film in Comic Book style, which led to some very interestingly framed shots in the film itself.

The story is straightforward for the most part. There will be spoilers from here on out.

The film opens with a gruesome scene as a honeymooning couple on a yacht enter the water for a swim, and are devoured by something in the sea. As the woman sinks down into the depths, there is a dark cloud of what is apparently blood that fills the sea where she sank, screaming. Its a tense and scary scene! I couldn't help but be reminded of Jaws (1977), and I wonder if Spielberg was influenced by this. It was a mere 13 years earlier, after all. 

Down-on-his-luck pilot Grant Murdoch (Byron Sanders) is hired by Jan Letterman (Barbara Wilkin) to fly her boss, aging actress Laura Winters (Rita Morley) from New York to Provincetown. (This is the one thing that strikes me odd... its only about 300 miles, so not a hugely long trip, and even in the sixties, it was pretty drivable). A storm forces them to land at an island somewhere along the coast, and they take shelter on the small island and make the acquaintance of the sole inhabitant of the place, a marine biologist named Professor Peter Bartell (Martin Kosleck) who is apparently doing some sort of research there. In the aftermath of the storm, their plane has been lost, and they start to discover skeletal remains... including humans, and worse, some sort of micro-organism in the sea that voraciously devours all flesh, and strips it to the bone. They are joined by Omar, a beatnik (Ray Tudor) from a raft, and then all their private agendas start coming to the fore as they try to find a way to get off the island and past the deadly little creatures in the water.

And when I say it gets brutal, I mean it. People die in horrible, bloody ways. The  beatnik is murdered by Prof. Bartell who slips one of the microbes into his drink, and he's eaten from the inside out. The professor records his death screams and puts the body back on his raft and sets it sailing with the recoded screams playing at full volume. The actress is knifed in the belly. Another person graphically shoots himself in the head with a bloody skeletal hand holding the gun. We hear stories of Nazi atrocities.... no punches are pulled here. And although its a black and white film, there is blood.

The film has some fantastic camera shots in it, and in this way it keeps true of Drake's vision of the film. The special effects are basic, but the very basic nature of them also makes them both weird and effective. The 'microbes' are little more than scratches on the film negative.. and their size varies wildly.

The characters ae effectively drawn, even if they seem to be caricatures. Their motivations are believable for the most part, with only Prof. Bartell seeming to be a little over the top. Of interest to me is Laura Winters.... This character reminds me of one of Arnold Drake's creations in The Doom Patrol comic; Rita Farr. Rita, or Elasti-Girl as she was known, was also a fading actress. While they are not exactly alike, it seems like Drake was experimenting with the character type here. I wonder if April Bowlby was familiar with this performance as she was researching Rita Farr in the Doom Patrol TV Series... they seem quite similar in mannerism and attitude.

I would also point out Murdoch's story about his short-lived marriage at the end of World War II. He explains that he got married to a girl in Texas, and then left to become a pilot in the War. He flew a dozen missions, and then returned.... to the shock and dismay of the bride. She had been running a scam, marrying soldiers in high risk military roles and then collecting on their life insurance when they were killed in action. This was a genuine scam that was run during the war, and Murdoch's story rings true in that regard. But beyond that, there is the 'punchline' to the story... she must have loved him a little, since she normally went for Tailgunners, because tailgunners were more likely to be killed than pilots... and his own admission that he really did 'love that little tramp' is tinged with exactly the right amount of both fondness and bitterness to make it believable. 

In researching it, I see that they released the film with a gimmick, of small packets of 'dehydrated blood' given to people in case of Flesh Eater attack. 

Apparently, George Romero originally intended to call 'Night of the Living Dead' 'Night of the Flesh Eaters'... however he was forced to change the name of the film to the more iconic one, to prevent confusion with this film. 

Martin Kosleck is probably the busiest actor in this film. His credits include a large number of TV appearances in things ranging from The Man from U.N.C.L.E. to Sanford and Son. He often played Nazis, which is interesting since he fled from the Nazi regime in the 1930s to come to the United States. 

The creatures at the end of the film are pretty decently conceived and realized. They aren't the most memorable or iconic, but they are effective I suppose. Certainly, they LOOK like something bizarre and somewhat alien. Its a good look... but they seem underused.

Also... look at the tag line on the bottom of this poster... "The only people who will not be STERILIZED with FEAR are those among you who are already DEAD!"  .... Sterilized with Fear? When was that ever a phrase? What does that even mean?

Rodan

 

I make no apologies for being a Kaiju kid. Watching monsters level cities was simply what was on TV when I was growing up, and one of the earliest I can remember is Rodan. I think I was probably in kindergarten or younger when I first saw it. I remember learning that films were on long strips that would run through a projector with a light behind it, but it still hadn't occurred to me that the strip needed to be somewhat CLEAR for the light to pass through it.... And I made an attempt to create a Rodan 'film' by drawing individual cells on the movie onto a strip of manila paper and asking my parents to show it on the little Super 8 projector we had. Those 'cells' were not in sequence, they were just individual scenes, but... I was too young to actually know how movies worked. Even if it had, it was more like a filmstrip. 

Needless to say, my early Rodan opus never got showed. I remember my mom handing me a flashlight and telling me that if the light shined through the manila paper, we could watch my production... and... imagination aside, manila paper is a poor substitute for celluloid. 

But I remember the real film fondly. 

Rodan (1956) was in frequent rotation on Superhost's Saturday Mad Theater, on Channel 43 in Cleveland when I grew up. I vividly remember watching it, and being enthralled by the colors of it. The blue of the skies, the yellow outfits of the miners, the bright red of the lava... It was, and still is, mesmerizing. And the monsters? Really perfect, and a close, early favorite to the "big guns" of Godzilla and Gamera. 

I think one of the keys here was that there was no sense of malevolence in Rodan and his mate. They were confused animals. Even as a child, I couldn't really blame them for the destruction they were creating... they were simply animals, confused and panicked, reacting as animals would. That made them less scary. And the end of the film was pure pathos, and was genuinely upsetting to 6 year old me. It was SAD to see Rodan and his mate perish in the volcano. 

You can't fault Ishiro Honda for his direction in this. Its brilliant. he managed to wring genuine fear and sadness out of a film with men in rubber suits destroying miniature sets. 

Watching the film again recently, there is something else I can point to as being something that is almost unique in the Kaiju genre... a compelling story about the human characters.

Its something of a truism that in a Kaiju film, we just don't care about the human side of the story most of the time. There ARE times when its compelling... such as in the original Gojira (1954) when the love triangle of Ogata/Emiko/Serizawa was such an intense and meaningful counterpoint to the monster, and it was skillfully woven into the story so that eventually the humans' and monster's story connect at the end. But most of the time, the human side of the story is almost a separate, and vastly inferior film to that of the monsters (I'm looking at you Godzilla Vs The Sea Monster (1966)). 

In Rodan though... the human story WORKS. I REMEMBER the Human story from when I watched this as a child... I remember it almost as vividly as the monster scenes. Maybe its because the trauma that happens to Shigeru is relatable to a child. He is separated in the mines from his companions and lost for a time, and suffers from something he is unable to explain. The idea of separation and loss is something every child can relate to. While its unlikely a child getting separated from his parents at the mall will encounter Meganulon larva or baby Pteranadons, they will likely still have a fear of monsters waiting for them. 

I can't speak for others really, but this is a more compelling human story for me than one involving Interpol officers hunting aliens...

I am also shocked that this is the first time I connected Rodan to 2000's Godzilla vs Megaguirus. I have no excuse. 

Another interesting bit of trivia... The dubbing of Rodan into English was accomplished by only about 4 people. George Takei (in his first professional 'acting' job), Keye Luke, Paul Frees (frankly the hardest working voice actor in Hollywood in those days), and a woman, who's name is sadly lost to us these days. Takei was actually the first Japanese-American to provide voiceover work for Toho films released in America.

Curiously, I see Martin Scorsese, of all people, praised the imagination of this film. Curious then that he is so negative about the current trend of superhero films, and can't see the imagination there. He is someone who really confuses me. It may be an article for another time, but he is one of those film makers who is acknowledged as a genius.... but whose works have NEVER 'spoken' to me. He gets a lot of praise for his gangster films, but... honestly? What is there to admire about gangsters? Sure, you can make a film about them feel 'real'... but what good is 'real' if its telling you a story that still feels hollow? 

As I said, a post for another time, and possibly a different blog. I connect more with giant monsters. superheroes, and supernatural and science fiction menaces than I do ordinary criminals. I am not the person Martin Scorsese is making films for, and he tends to look down on the people who make films for me. 

Let's talk about this poster for a moment. This is one of my favorite posters of the 50s... its an Australian one for Rodan. The drawing of Rodan looks NOTHING like the one in the film, but has a weird sort of charm to it. The tag line is also fantastic: "More Startling than Jules Verne!" Well.... yes, I suppose a giant supersonic monster who flattens cities with hurricane force winds WOULD be more startling than ... uh... 19th Century Steampunk visions of technology...  I mean... what do Rodan and Verne even have in common? At least Wells and Burroughs WROTE about dinosaurs, I can't think of a single mention on them in Verne, unless you want to count the Squid in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea or the giant animals in Mysterious Island.... but I don't...

Obscure Lugosi and a brief look at Asian actors in early film

 Bela Lugosi is a curious case as far as actors go. He, arguably, had a more profound impact on the horror genre than almost any other actor, and defined so many of the tropes of the genre...but his film output is not all that stellar. I mean... sure, he literally defined Dracula in the 1931 film.... and while many of his other films are respected by fans of the genre (such as White Zombie or Son of Frankenstein), most of his films are obscure, and often get lost in the mess of low budget outputs and program fillers. Its frankly hard to sit through something like Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla (1952) or Vampire Over London (1952). Its even hard to sit through something like The Return of Chandu (1934) and that has a far better story than many of his later films.

So its really nice to find something a little obscure that is engaging and actually showcases Lugosi as an actor, and not a horror icon. I discovered, on YouTube, the oldest surviving Charlie Chan film, The Black Camel (1931) which includes not only Lugosi, but an uncredited Dwight Frye... both acting mere months after the release of the mega-hit Dracula (1931). While Dracula received a general release on Feb 14, 1931, The Black Camel was released on June 21, 1931. 

The Black Camel was the second of the Charlie Chan films starring Warner Oland as the detective. It is the earliest surviving of Oland's version, with something like 5 of the other earliest having been destroyed in fires over the years. It is also notable for a couple other reasons... First off it is actually one of the rare films in the series which is based on one of Earl Derr Biggers original Charlie Chan novels. So many of these films were made that they ran out of novel material pretty quickly. Secondly, this was actually filmed in Honolulu, Hawaii and many of the locations, including Waikiki Beach and The Royal Hawaiian Hotel are included, and give a genuine sense of the exotic. This is not an early soundstage bound production. It is one of the earliest depictions of Hawaii that I am aware of on film. Hawaii itself would not even be a state until 1959.

And finally, there are Lugosi and Frye. Frye gets an uncredited bit part with only a couple lines, as a Butler. He isn't given much to do, but his voice is unmistakable, and he still talks in the slow, stilted manner he did as Renfield. Lugosi though... Lugosi is actually really impressive here, and this has shot up to near the top of my favorite performances by him. He's very natural as Tarneverro, a sort of psychic advisor who eshews the usual trappings of the soothsayer you would see him in in later roles. He's quite casual here, and looking at ease in a business suit, and right from the first scene he has with Warner Oland, you get the impression that he is easily the equal of Charlie Chan, and is not so much a psychic as extremely observant. 

Thats actually a wonderful scene. Lugosi is having breakfast at the Royal Hawaiian hotel with friends when he is informed that a 'Chinese Businessman' has arrived to speak with him. He is puzzled but curious, and goes to meet the man in the lobby, who turns out to be Charlie Chan, posing as a businessman to get information from him. This deception lasts about a second, as Lugosi immediately points out that Chan is no businessman but a police officer. Chan is amused and also guesses that Tarneverro has noticed the holes in his waistcoat from where he removed his badge. This establishes so much between these two... a mutual respect for each others intelligence, a slightly tense curiosity about one another, and the fact that they actually like each other, even if they suspect one another. Its a great scene.

And the other thing you get from this is Lugosi playing against type. Sure, he's set up as a potential suspect, but then literally everyone else is as well. He never seems a particularly CREDIBLE suspect, and there are times when Chan actually shares clues with him. As it turns out, he DOES have a connection to the murder case, but as it turns out, he is NOT the murderer... so its a rare instance in which Lugosi does NOT play either a villain or a victim. In fact, he really showcases his charm as a leading man here, and its a great glimpse of what might have been had he not been typecast and become such a victim to his own addictions and demons. This is the sort of role that Boris Karloff would occasionally get which really enabled him to rise above being a 'mere horror star'. 

Now... as for the film itself....

This is really a tricky film to examine. 

On the one had, this film shows a lot of problems that were common in early Hollywood where race was concerned. There should have been no reason to cast a white man as Chan, other than the inherent racism of the time. Warner Oland seems to be a fine actor, but why they cast him as a Chinese man is beyond me. This seems to be simply what was done at the time, and we see this over and over and over again, with Charlie Chan being played by Warner Oland, Sydney Toler, Roland Winters, and even Peter Ustinov playing him in film, while Ross Martin and J. Carroll Naish played him on television... to say nothing of both Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi playing the Chinese detective Mr Wong in various films, Peter Lorre playing the Japanese spy Mr Moto, and the likes of Karloff, Christopher Lee, and even Peter Sellers playing Fu Manchu. 

It become especially curious when you see the later films with capable Asian-American actors playing his family and sidekicks, most notably Keye Luke (who I discovered, along with Boris Karloff, was a founding member of the Screen Actors Guild). The simple fact is, sadly, I doubt that America in the 1930s would even have been willing to go to a film fronted by an Asian actor. They experimented with it on occasion, with one very interesting and notable example being to curious mystery When Were You Born (1938) starring the lovely and talented Anna Mae Wong. Keye Luke was given the chance to play James Lee Wong in Phantom of Chinatown in 1940 (previously the role had been played by Karloff). But that was about it. Merle Oberon was a popular leading lady in British film, but had to conceal the Indian and Maori heritage she had and used skin lightening makeup. According to film historian Robert Ito, apparently there were "protections" built in to the Hollywood system to protect white actors, guaranteeing that if a character was a lead, and an Asian, he would likely be a white actor cast in 'yellowface'. 

The character of Charlie Chan has drawn some criticism, some of which is justified, and some which may not be. Earl Derr Biggers created the character as a reaction to the 'Yellow Peril' style of portrayal of Asians, which he despised. He wanted a heroic and law-abiding Asian character, and was inspired by meeting real life Honolulu Detective Chang Apana in 1920. Apana was quite a colorful character, whose adventures included being tossed out a window on the second story of a house by drug addicts (only to land on his feet), and single handedly arresting 40 people involved in illegal gambling, while armed only with a bullwhip. However, the character of Charlie Chan is often criticized for his constant overuse of 'fortune cookie' wisdom, and broken English speech patterns, as well as the aforementioned Yellowface. 

On the other hand, Keye Luke, when asked if he felt that Charlie Chan was demeaning, responded with ""Demeaning to the race? My God! You've got a Chinese hero!". It should also be noted that the Charlie Chan films were the most popular American films in China during the 1930s, and there were even a number of Chinese films made of the character during that time. I am reminded somewhat of the controversy surrounding the Looney Tunes character of Speedy Gonzales, which was pulled for being racially offensive, while simultaneously being extremely popular among the people he was supposed to be offensive to. 

The yellowface is absolutely problematic... but the portrayal maybe less so. Chan DOES spout proverbs and fortune cookie wisdom... but as one reviewer pointed out, they aren't always wisdom. Many time they are cutting insults or subtle jabs at the other characters. His 'broken' English speech patterns and polite, gentle manner make his opponents constantly underestimate him. He is shown to be a loving family man, and even, at times, more professional than his colleagues in the police. 

Treated respectfully, and given to a good actual Chinese (or at least Asian) actor, its possible, I think, to modernize and redeem the character of Charlie Chan.

This is NOT a horror film, but it is horror adjacent since it has both Lugosi and Frye in it. Its a pretty good mystery too. I recommend this for fans of Lugosi especially.

Welcome Gruesome Magazine and Decades of Horror Podcast

 To my shock and surprise, a long and rambling email I sent in to the Decades of Horror podcast was read on air... in not just one but TWO of their shows. They even were kind enough to post a link to this blog, which shocks me as well.

This is incredibly kind of them, of course,

And... nerve wracking to me. I mean.... no one has ever actually LOOKED at this blog before. 

Anyway, Decades of Horror has been my podcast of choice to listen to, in addition to Evolution of Horror. Its not quite as academic as Evolution of Horror, but thats not a bad thing. Its really the sort of podcast I would like to do, if I ever did a podcast. 

One thing it has done though, is get me thinking about the various eras of Horror cinema. If we look at their series, they have it divided roughly by decade. The Classic Era is everything 1969 and before, the 70s is another, the 80s is on its own, and the 90s is what wraps it up. I suppose there could be a modern era too.... but as far as I know, they don't have that as a podcast series.

I lean to the Classic Era. That is my comfort zone. I love the old black and white films of that era. Maybe its the historian in me, seeing a cinematic vision of the past. Not always, mind you. But sometimes you can see a glimpse of the world as it was, for better or worse. Just last night, for example, I got a chance to see, for the first time, The Black Camel (1931). This was one something like the second Charlie Chan film made, and the only surviving one of the first 5 Warner Oland led Chan films. It also stars Bela Lugosi and Dwight Frye (note that this was released the same year as Universal's Dracula). It suffers from some poorly aged racist stereotypes, but also show Honolulu in the early 30s, which is AMAZING. It even had several scenes shot on location at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel... one scene looking remarkably like it was even the same table I sat at once when I was in college and got to visit with my then-girlfriend, now-wife's family. The film itself had some clever dialogue though, and it gives a wonderful look at the kind of star Lugosi might have been if he hadn't been typecast by his role in Dracula. And I keep thinking about the fact that Hawaii in 1931 seems INCREDIBLY different than it later became. Thats the power of films and history I guess.

But, circling back to the Decades... the 70s is where I start to lose interest. Not entirely, and I probably didn't think of it like this at the time. I can watch almost any genre film of the 60s and before and enjoy it, with a few exceptions. But moving into the 70s, there are suddenly a LOT that annoy me. To be honest, I have discovered I don't really like most American cinema of the 70s. There is a 'same-ness' to the look of it that annoys me. Its the same colors, its the same bleak scenery, and its often the same bleak, downbeat endings. There is a similarity in the look to films like.... The Devil's Rain, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Dual, Messiah of Evil, and Kingdom of the Spiders which just sort of annoys me. It looks hot, dusty, and sparse. I'm not sure how to describe it really... it needs someone more eloquent than me I guess. Its utilitarian, I suppose. But I compare it to the films coming out of Europe and Mexico and Asia as the same time? There is no comparison. The incredible colors you find in the films of Argento or Bava give a deeper dimension to those films. The wild use of colors enhanced the spectacles coming out of Japan in films like Hausu or the Godzilla series. Even films that have a similar visual style, like the Paul Naschy werewolf films from Spain, still seem to sparkle more than a lot of their American counterparts. Part of this may have to do with the subject matter... Once the Exorcist hit in the US, there seemed to be a lot of religious based horror unleashed, which doesn't do much for me. Sure, the Exorcist or The Omen are fine films, but... they don't really scare me, or offer me much to think about. 

Well... except for Zombie films. Zombie films always freak me out.

But moving into the 80s... The 80s is a prettier decade for films, and there are some fantastic films in the 80s. But... there is also a lot of very shallow things. I like a bit of depth, and I start missing depth in a lot of the 80s films. The 80s is the age of the endless sequel... where we see the same ideas trotted out over and over again with the slightest variations. Its the age when serial killers overtook the old style monsters, and I felt that loss. There are gems to be found, to be sure... but for every The Thing, Re-Animator, Near Dark, or Videodrome, there are a dozen Friday the 13th Part 5, or whatever slasher variant there was this time around.

I guess... I like monsters. I like the supernatural. I don't care for serial killers or religious horror. I like there to be something in a film to make me think, or I want it to be so obviously playful that it doesn't NEED me to think.

Geez, I'm such a picky old man, aren't I? *shakes my fist at the weather*

And if that hasn't scared folks off from this blog... welcome to my place to rant about things I hate and gush about the stupid things that apparently only I care about.

A newer recommendation and review.

 I know...

I generally try to keep this blog about older films, since I love them, and people today tend to ignore them. But this one is special. 

I would direct you now to Edgar Wright's Last Night in Soho (2021).

There WILL be spoilers, and I will put the poster here... if you don't want the spoilers, don't scroll below the poster. Ok?

Let's start off with the amazing cast, shall we? 

Thomasin McKenzie is the cast member I'm least familiar with, but she does an amazing job here as our protagonist Eloise. Anya Taylor-Joy (The Witch, Queen's Gambit, The New Mutants, and others)  is ALWAYS amazing, and here plays the mysterious 'Sandie' who's life in 60's Soho  Eloise bears witness to. Matt Smith, from In Bruges and Doctor Who, plays Jack, Sandie's charming but scheming boyfriend, and finally AMAZING supporting performances by veteran actors Diana Rigg and Terence Stamp. 

Someone asked me what genre this film is... and its honestly not easy to categorize. It starts as a sort of fantasy piece, but shifts to thriller and then outright horror by the end of it. The style shifts wonderfully, and bleeds together in unexpected ways. 

The basic story is that Eloise (McKenzie), a girl obsessed with 60s pop culture, moves to London to attend a prestigious Fashion Design school. She is not prepared for the city life, having been somewhat sheltered by her grandmother, after the death of her mother, and discovers that Dorm life is harsh... and seeking shelter from it, takes a room in Soho at a house owned by an older woman (Rigg). Almost immediately, Eloise begins having vivid dreams of Sandie (Taylor-Joy) who has come to 60s London to become a singer. Sandie gets involved with the charming Jack (Smith) who seems to be the answers to her prayers, and who promises to get her into 'the business' with his contacts among the nightclubs of Soho. 

But almost immediately what is dream and what is reality start to blur. Eloise wakes up inspired by these visions of this past version of Soho, but ... is also mysteriously sporting the same hickey Jack gave to Sandie in her dreams. 

Each night, Eloise returns to her dreams to watch as Sandie's life progresses, and begins to take a far more sinister turn, and we begin to see that Jack is a far less altruistic beau than he first appeared. And the darkness that Sandie finds herself in starts intruding on Eloise in her waking hours as well. 

The film presents two views of Soho. The present day Soho is a little drab, trendy, almost quaint, and populated by vacuous students and bitter old people. The Soho of the sixties, is, to quote Marillion, 'a neon wonderland', populated by elegant, stylish trendsetters where nothing is exactly what it seems. This dreamlike past is reinforced by mirrors, colored lights, and a sort of hazy atmosphere that is easy to get lost in. 

The very first scene set in this is astonishing in its setup, and remarkable in its execution. Eloise enters a club, and is greeted by a doorman who takes her coat. The full mirror on the wall shows not Eloise, but Sandie, and the two women face each other in the mirror, checking their makeup before going into the club proper. Its such a simple effect, little more than the old Marx Brothers mirror gag, but done expertly (using twin actors as the doorman) and for dramatic effect. It establishes that what Sandie experiences, Eloise does as well. 

Later, Sandie and Jack share a dance, and with a very simple camera trick, we see Eloise also dancing with Jack. Its all done practically, and in-camera. The dance and the camera are choreographed so that McKenzie and Taylor-Joy swap places seamlessly at various points, and its a gorgeous sequence.

Later still, we see Sandie running down the club's stairs, and Eloise pursuing in the mirrors.... again, ALL done practically on set, with only false reflection added later using CGI. 

The colors and the lighting are pure Dario Argento. Wright lights things in pink and red hazes, and highlights things with green lights, and the result is something visually stunning. I've heard a rumor that Suspiria (1977) is one of Wrights favorite films, and it shows. However, that is not the only influence here. The clothing often recalls the 60s James Bond Films, and one party sequence reflects Live and Let Die. When the crowds of ghosts begin to appear, I kept thinking of Carnival of Souls. One alleyway they run through I recognized from Peeping Tom (1960), there is a cinema marque advertising Thunderball (1965), several of Eloise's fellow students dress as the characters from The Craft (1996)... This is a film that draws from and page homage to all sorts of films that came before it.

One of my favorite moments in the film is where it transitions to something darker in the past. Eloise has arrived to Sandie's opening night at the club where Jack got her a job, expecting to see her headlining. She feels something is amiss, as she watches Jack laughing, smoking, and drinking with his friends at the bar, and when the show starts... its not Sandie who is headlining. Instead, its a rather sordid, risque little show with a clearly unhappy Sandie as one of the chorus. As Eloise, and the Audience follow her backstage after the performance, it initially looks like an energetic and happily chaotic scene... but then you start picking out whats really going on; Prostitution, Drug-use, blackmail, extortion... again, what we see initially is NOT what we find when we look deeper.

The only real misstep... and I'm not sure how much of a misstep it really is, and how much is just a mistake on Eloise's part... is her mistaking 'The older gentleman' (Terence Stamp) for an aged Jack. We saw what very much seemed to be a younger version of Stamp's character as one of Sandie's 'dates' and his personality seemed very different than Jack's as well. While I can understand Eloise's fixation and fear of Jack, linking him to 'The Older Gentleman' seemed a bit of a stretch... and particularly when Stamp's character seemed to know exactly what Eloise was talking about and have information about what really happened. 

I want to revisit this film again soon. I find myself thinking about it long after watching it.

Genres

I've been listening to a podcast called The Evolution of Horror. Its hosted by Mike Muncer who, I believe, works at the British Film Institute (Or at least has an office there, since he occasionally mentions his 'closet-like office' at the BFI). Its an excellent series, but has a few things which have me scratching my head about. It ostensibly talks about the evolution of horror films over time to the present day. Each 'season' examines a given sub-genre of horror. I'm still working my way through, the first season was Slasher Films, the second was Ghost movies, and the one I'm currently listening to is on Folk Horror.

The odd thing I noticed? He tends to ignore films before the 50s. This is unfortunately true of almost every podcast about horror films. I would LIKE to hear people talk about films from the 20s, 30s, and 40s, but modern horror fans seem extremely dismissive of the horror films of that era. 

The other major thing I have a disagreement with is his definition of Folk Horror... largely be cause he ignores the largest aspect of Folk Horror... which is the presence of actual FOLKlore in it. He argues that films like Straw Dogs, Deliverance, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre should be classified as Folk Horror... when I don't believe they are. It needs to be more than a rural setting to be "Folk" horror... you need the folklore element. 

The three films he refers to as 'The Unholy Trinity' of folk horror, the films considered the origin point of the subgenre, are The Witchfinder General (1968) (Sometime called The Conqueror Worm in the United States), Blood on Satan's Claw (1971), and The Wicker Man (1973). But the thing that really ties those together is the folklore. Both Christian Folklore and Pagan Folklore are part of the driving force behind those films plots, EVEN IF the ultimate evil of the film is entirely human. There is no supernatural force in The Wicker Man. There is no supernatural force in the Witchfinder General. But the folkloric beliefs are the things which drive the people in these films. It is both the belief itself and the manipulation of the belief. Hopkins, in The Witchfinder General, does not believe in witchcraft, but does MANIPULATE the belief in witchcraft for his own profit. 

When I think of Folk horror, there is ALWAYS that folkloric element, and you can see it in the list of films. Not just the three above, but things like Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter, Children of the Corn, Dead Birds, Antrum, The Witch, The Ritual, Jugface, Midsommar, Pumpkinhead, Jeepers Creepers, The Blair Witch Project, The Noonday Witch, and The Final Prayer (The Borderlands in the UK) all have that mythic or folkloric thread that wends through them. If it does NOT have that element, its just rural horror. Consequently, unlike Mike Muncer, I don't count films like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Deliverance, or Straw Dogs simply because they do not have any of that mythic element in it. 

However, it must be said that not every film that involves folklore can be considered Folk Horror. Films like Candyman, The Autopsy of Jane Doe or Queen of Spades touch on folklore, but are definitely NOT folk horror.

Folk Horror is, to me, a connection between what has been in the past and what lurks in the natural world. There is something ancient in Folk Horror, something which hides behind the mystery and beauty of the natural world. The horror comes in not knowing what came before... of something forgotten or forbidden which emerges from a shadowed past or a remote landscape. There is a religious or spiritual element in Folk Horror.. a cult, a demon, a spirit, a belief... something intangible but still real in a philosophical sense, which binds people together, and which, more importantly, EXCLUDES others.

Things like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre simply don't have that intangible element. Leatherface and their family MAY have some belief system which leads to their activities, but if there is, it is never made explicit. There is some craft items of bones, but they seem to serve no purpose other than decorative rather than a ritual function... There is a bizarre scene which the hitchhiker seems to enact a spell... but it doesn't come across as anything more than simply him trying to freak people out. There is no NARRATIVE reason for those things, nor do they drive the plot in any way. In the Wicker Man, you see both odd crafts and spells enacted, but they are a part of the unfolding narrative. They are used to illustrate the beliefs of the Summerislanders and culminate in the grand ritual at the climax. They are used as stepping stones to the end point of the plot. It can be argued that that is the entire POINT of them. They are shown to be a part of the belief system which drives the locals to do what they do, and excludes Sgt. Howie. It is their culture. It marks him as an outsider. 

One could argue that demonstrates that the main characters of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Deliverance are outsiders, and while that is true, nothing is actually done to develop the communities that they stumble into. There is nothing to suggest that there is a deeper meaning or spiritual connection by the acts that they do. There is no connection to the past or to the land. Straw Dogs is even MORE tenuous of a connection, as it is little more than a home invasion film, and could be placed anywhere without it NEEDING a rural or remote, has no real connection to the ancient past, or to anything spiritual or folkloric. Again, I will argue that there is a distinction between a Folk Horror and simply Horror in a Rural setting.

The Night Stalker

 

Recently, in my search for horror films I've not seen before, or have had a hard time tracking down, I turned to YouTube where I discovered a trove of films there. They are not always of the best quality, and I sometimes wonder about the legality of some of them on there, but its proven a fruitful vein to mine. 

Sometimes it doesn't pay off. For example, I have been trying to watch the 1961 William Castle film Mr. Sardonicus, which I have never seen. Of the two full versions of this film on YouTube that I've found, one is Spanish Dubbed with English subtitles, and the other has a soundtrack that went wildly out of synch to the point that watching it was impossible. 

Other times, you find some gems... I have been able to revisit the entire series of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films, which has been a bit of a treat. I have also discovered a modern horror host show... Creature Features, which has some interesting content. 

Some history about horror hosts.... the original 3 (and most influential) were pretty much John Zacherly (The Cool Ghoul) in New York, Maila Nurmi (Vampira) in Los Angeles, and Ernie Anderson's Ghoulardi here in Cleveland. But as horror host became more common, they sprang up everywhere... and in the 1970s, San Francisco had 'Creature Features' which was hosted by Bob Wilkins, who eschewed the typical costumed persona of the horror host in favor of a rocking chair and a cigar while he spoke with dry wit about the movies he showed. After his retirement, John Stanley took over hosting duties for several years in the 1980s, and then Creature Features remained dormant until it was revived by actor Jeff Bodean around 2016, who took on the person of aging rock star Vincent Van Dahl to host the show that currently streams on YouTube (and, I believe other places). Van dahl is joined in his hosting duties not only by weekly guests, but by his charming sidekicks, the stoic butler Livingston (who is always drily sarcastic and slightly condescending to Van Dahl) and quixotic waif wraith, the silent Tangella. While Van Dahl himself is portrayed as a somewhat pompous idiot who is often confused by the films he shows, and his guests are often... puzzling eccentrics, he DOES manage to find some films that are somewhat rarely seen (often they are old Made-For-TV horror or thriller films from ABC's old 'Movie of the Week' show from the 70s). Plus the antics of Livingston and Tangella actually are amusing to me, in ways that Van Dahl is not. 

Consequently, there have been a few films I've caught there that either I have not seen before, or haven't seen in some time. Among these have been the films The Cat Creature, The House That Would Not Die, and of course, the classics The Night Stalker and The Night Strangler. 

The Night Stalker is one of my earliest horror memories. I remember watching this on TV, but not being allowed to stay up to see the end of it... so my dad had to tell me how it ended the next day. Carl Kolchak was my childhood hero, and even now is still up there. While I own the film on DVD (as well as the TV series), I've not watched the film in awhile, so I sat back to watch it.

It still holds up. 

The script is by the legendary Richard Matheson. The Producer is Dan Curtis at the top of his game, and the director is John Llewyellen Moxey. The film is studded with talent, from Darren McGavin in the lead, and Simon Oakland as his long suffering Editor Tony Vincenzo, to Claude Akins as his foil Sheriff Butcher, and bit parts by the likes of Larry Linville and Elisha Cook Jr. 

The script positively sparkles with just great dialogue, particularly the cynical and often sarcastic voiceovers by Kolchak.:

Kolchak (in voiceover): "Sherman Duffy of the New York Herald once said, "A newspaperman is the loneliest guy on Earth. Socially, he ranks somewhere between a hooker and a bartender. Spiritually he stands with Galileo, because he knows the world is round." <beat> Not that it matters much, when his editor knows its flat."

What's interesting about it, to me, is that we don't see the vampire all that much. When we DO see it, it is in the context of either a narrative flashback about the attack on a victim, or other point where he intersects with the story. The film is NOT about the Vampire. Its about the Vampire HUNTER and the impact the vampire has among the community. 

When we look at previous vampire films, the focus has been on the Vampire itself. In the Universal films, the focus was on Dracula and his handful of victims. They were cozy sorts of films, intimate in their nature. Dracula was focused on a particular family for the most part. Even in the Hammer films, you tend to see Dracula focusing on one particular woman or family over others, and even when they depict that there is a wider effect to the operation of vampires, it tends to STILL be a focus on a small subset. For example, 1963's Kiss of the Vampire dealt with a cult and its control over a certain town, but its focus was still on one particular couple. As we moved into the 70s, this formula didn't really change. 

The question that The Night Stalker poses is not so much "How do we defeat the vampire?" it is "How would the modern world respond to a vampire?".  We KNOW how vampires can be defeated, we've seen hundreds of movies about that. WHO will defeat them though, and what will the consequences be?

That was the thing that stood out to me about this, even then. The traditional vampire film, to this point, tend to end, right after the vampire is defeated. Even when we see the consequences, its never really driven home how serious they are. In Dracula's Daughter (1936), we pick up right at the end of Dracula, with Van Helsing being arrested for murder. But while this is a serious consequence, its not really a focus. The same can be said of 1943 film The Return of the Vampire where Lady Jane faces a murder investigation for the destruction of the vampire Armand Tesla. But again, she doesn't feel very concerned about it. She, like Van Helsing in the other film, seems content with the idea that authorities will simply understand that it was a vampire, and had to be destroyed. 

Not so in The Night Stalker. The vampire, Janos Skorzeny, is found and destroyed by reporter Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) and his FBI contact Bernie Jenks (Ralph Meeker) ... and is promptly arrested and blackmailed by the police into keeping the truth of the affair a secret. Because Kolchak did the right thing, and destroyed a vampire, he loses his job, his home, his girl, and cannot tell anyone why or the arrest warrant for murder will be served against him. 

This was a vampire story for the Post-Watergate world, where journalists were the heroes, getting the dirty truth out there for people while the elected officials covered everything up. However, it must be said that Kolchak is not entirely motivated by truth an altruism here. His interest in the story is partly to get the truth out to the public, but it is also to secure for him the exclusive rights to the story which he will then parley into a return to a newspaper in a major market... in this case, New York. 

He is a flawed hero. Confident to the point of arrogance, bullheaded and stubborn even if he is open-minded, and grudgingly acknowledged as a decent reporter by his colleages... he still can't hold on to a job. His girlfriend here, Gail (played by Carol Lynley) lists his checkered career history: Fired twice in Washington, three times in New York, twice in Chicago, and "once... or was it twice in Boston?" to which a weary Kolchak holds up three fingers.... (For the record, we can now add once in Las Vegas and once in Seattle to this record after the two television films... his final stint, during the TV series seems to have got him into a stable, if underappreciated home with a News Service in Chicago again.) 

The vampire here, Janos Skorzeny as played by Barry Atwater, is a curious one. We never really learn what he is all about. He is a monster, plain and simple... but there are curious hints. He never speaks in the film, though we hear about him speaking from witnesses. Whenever he is on screen, he seems almost bestial, growling and attacking like a wild animal. But we also see that he is no mindless brute. He is cunning enough to rob a blood bank, and canny enough to keep one victim alive in his lair to harvest blood from. We hear from the police that not only is this the case, but he also spent time in London where he lived and worked as a doctor studying blood disorders, and so he's actually quite brilliant. We do not learn why he came to Las Vegas, but we do know that he has traveled extensively, and left a trail of corpses behind him. We know he has money to burn.

In short, what we see of the vampire is ONLY what Kolchak turns up. there is literally no other information for the viewer. The vampire is a news story, and what we learn is what we learn in the news. The way the story plays out though, we are told that what we see in the news should be questioned as much as anything else, because the powers that be manipulate it to their own ends.

Which is honestly still one of the most timely messages ever, especially with claims over the last few years of 'fake news'. The news doesn't always lie... but it doesn't always tell the truth either. There is bias there, and the question becomes one of who is putting the pressure on the news. 

An interesting point of trivia is that the vampire here was originally intended to be played by Robert Quarry instead of Barry Atwater, but Quarry's contract with AIP prevented him from appearing. Quarry previously appeared as Count Yorga, a vampire in 2 films, and as the semi-immortal foil for the title character in Doctor Phibes Rises Again... which was itself originally intended to be a reprisal of Count Yorga. I think that would have been a very different sort of film... I think I prefer Atwater. 

The choice of Las Vegas is very good. If you are going to move a vampire into the modern day, there are few cities better suited, even over New York or London. No, its not Gothic, but it is a genuinely 24 hour city, and it is not known as 'Sin City' for nothing. It is a genuinely modern city, with NONE of the trappings of past history there. It represents not only a perfect modern hunting ground for a vampire, but also a perfect place to display the corruption of city officials as well. 

For a TV movie, the performances are surprisingly nuanced and top notch. I think in many way, the closing scene in the District Attorney's office is one of the strongest in the entire film, and it occurs AFTER the destruction of the vampire. But even the leadup is fantastic... Carl is gleefully putting the finishing touches on his article as he writes it, and is so happy about it that he proposes to Gail (Carik Lynley) before heading into the office. When he gets to the office he turns the story and photos over to a curiously subdued Tony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) and reiterates the instructions for printing the story, all of which the editor agrees to. And then, if what is the first warning that all is not well, he looks at Kolchak before he leaves the office and calls him 'a hell of a reporter'... possibly the only kind words he's ever said to him, and then says that the DA's office called and would like Carl to stop in. This slows Kolchak slightly as he's too perceptive to not realize something is going on. When he arrives at the District Attorney's office, the body language of everyone there says it all. DA Pierce sits behind his desk with a smug smile, Sheriff Butcher is like a coiled spring and seething with restrained anger, and FBI Agent Bernie Jenks is slouched against the wall looking defeated, ashamed, and avoiding all eye contact. When Butcher reads out the warrant for Kolchak's arrest for murder, Carl is dumbfounded, and when the DA lays out the deal for Carl to leave town or they will serve the warrant, Carl switches to furious. But his immediate reaction is to reach for the phone and demand to call Gail. When he is told she was also "told to leave" because she was "an undesirable sort", Kolchak seems to have all the fight go out of him.... he's got nothing left in Las Vegas. As he picks up his bags and starts out, Jenks tries to soothe things with him... and asks Carl to let him know where he ends up. Carl can't even look at him, and rather unconvincingly agrees to keep in touch. The body language of McGavin and Meeker in this scene is amazing, as is their vocal performance. Both seem like they are on the verge of breaking down in tears, but they are both putting on a 'tough' performance for everyone else in the room. We know what Carl has lost... and we can guess that something similar has happened to Jenks. Jenks was with Carl when he staked the vampire, and its clear that is being held over him as much as they hold the murder warrant over Kolchak. Perhaps he was allowed to stay in Las Vegas under the condition that he help them coerce Kolchak into leaving town with his story unpublished... or perhaps he was tasked with making Gail leave, as he is the one to tell Carl that she is gone. Its a great performance by both of them.

It is also interesting to compare this to what the sequel and the television show became. Kolchak here is a bit colder, a bit more detached than he would later be. While he cares about getting the truth out there, he is also interested in advancing his career. He's a bit more hard drinking, and his contacts are less colorful (with the possible exception of Elisha Cook's Mickey Crawford). I found it interesting that the coroner, Dr Makurji (Larry Linville) doesn't actually dismiss Kolchak's early speculations about the nature of the killer, and encourages the police to think along those same lines by citing historical precedent. Kolchak seems almost dismissive of him, even though he supports the reporter. This seems almost counter to what occurs later on, with the likes of "Gordy the Ghoul" (John Fiedler) who is a mere morgue attendant who can be bribed in the series. Makurji is a genuine, no-nonsense expert in his field, who sides with Kolchak. 

That seems a parallel relationship with Bernie Jenks, who provides FBI support. What I found interesting about his role is, when it comes to a press conference and he provides the FBI gathered information on the killer, it ALSO supports Kolchak's outlandish theories, much to the annoyance of the local authorities. It is interesting to speculate what the FBI themselves thought of this, since the data they uncovered pointed to a active serial killer that was almost 80 years old. 

I say outlandish, but quite honestly, Kolchak himself is somewhat dismissive of the idea of a vampire... though he is willing at first to go along with the idea that the killer merely THINKS he is a vampire. Kolchak does not go looking for the supernatural first off, but becomes convinced over time of its reality. It is interesting that in the sequel movie, he starts looking for the supernatural angle much earlier in the case, and by the time of the series is willing enough to start entertaining these theories early on.