Tuesday, June 14, 2022

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, JugfaceMidsommar, 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. 




Thursday, April 21, 2022

Lucha Libre free for all!

 I've mentioned that I'm trying to expand my horizons on various horror cinema from around the world. Mexican cinema is something of a mystery to me, so its one area I have tried to seek out. I mean sure, I've seen the Spanish Language Dracula from 1931, and MST3k brought me The Robot vs The Aztec Mummy (1958) and Samson Versus the Vampire Women (1962), neither of which I could remember. I was surprise to find out Cronos (1995) was a Mexican film because I didn't realize it was a Del Toro film... But somehow I always missed others. In listening to the Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast, I heard them talk about the film Ship of Monsters (1960) and decided to give it a try, and was amused through the whole thing. Its not a great film, but it IS an amusing one, which features singing cowboys, an array of space monsters (including an unconvincing talking skeleton), two beautiful alien women (one of whom is a vampire), and robot that looks pretty much exactly like Bender from Futurama.

They also talked about two other films: Santo and Blue Demon Vs The Monsters (1969) and  Santo Versus the Zombies (1962), and obviously enjoyed them greatly, so I thought I would give them a chance. I've never been a wrestling fan, so, I never thought much about this series before. So, I did a quick search and discovered Tubi has a large number of these on it for free. While I didn't instantly see either of the films DoH reviewed, I saw the promisingly titled Santo and Blue Demon versus Dracula and El Hombre Lobo (1973). Yes, for some reason, the title on Tubi was not listed as Dracula and the Wolfman, but used the Spanish term for Wolf Man. I have no idea why. Most of the time, I see it translated out. Go figure. So, I put it on and settled back.

Oh. My. God.

This is one of the dumbest, most surreal, most charming, and completely entertaining films I've seen recently. 

No, this is not peak, Masterpiece Theater Cinema here. This is about masked Mexican wrestlers fighting monsters. Don't expect great things. DO expect a fun, cartoony, lunatic romp through a comic book. 

We are introduced to our heroes, appropriately enough, though an extended wrestling match. El Santo (The most legendary and popular Luchador ever, who is a real life folk hero in Mexico) is fighting El Angel Blanco. The Angel is using all sorts of illegal moves on Santo, as the announcer keeps informing us. Santo is clearly taking the worse of it. What is so bizarre about this scene? We hear the roar of a crowd, and the announcer keeps talking about the crowd reactions, and about how big the crowd is.... but no crowd is ever seen. The ring is statically shot against a blank background of pastel blues and pinks. This wrestling match goes on far longer than one might think, but Santo eventually overcomes his Foe. 

We then move into the main body of the film, and a fiendish hunchback named Eric is busy plotting the resurrection of his master, Dracula. Meanwhile, Santo is visiting his girlfriend at the house of her Uncle, Professor Cristaldi... who has just received a death threat. His ancestor was responsible for the previous staking of Dracula some 400 years previous. 

400 years? And Eric has somehow waited until NOW to start the plan? No one else has tried? Why is Eric loyal to someone he never met? I have no idea. In short order however, he kidnaps the good professor and sacrifices him to bring back Dracula from the dead (In much the same way that Hammer's Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966) as well as Dracula's werewolf sidekick, Rufus Rex. Say what you want, that is a fantastic name for a werewolf. And while Dracula is raised in his full Trasylvanian Tuxedo and cape, Rufus is raised in a stylish, open chested, gold lame disco shirt. Rufus is also quite chatty and eloquent for a werewolf. 

Santo decides that the police cant help (because they don't believe in vampires and werewolves, the fools...) so he calls on his friend and fellow Luchador, Blue Demon!

Crash cut back to the same weirdly disconnected Wrestling ring as before, for another wresting match introduction to Blue Demon, where he is wrestling the hilariously named Renato the Hippie. Blue Demon is a much more agile wrestler that Santo, it appears, but I think age may have been a big factor. Santo was something like 56 when he made this film. Blue Demon however was not much younger, at 51. But he still moved like a much younger man. 

Behind the scenes, it is said there was a rivalry between these two men, stemming back decades. Santo defeated a tag-team partner of Blue Demon, called Black Shadow in a Mask vs Mask match and unmasked him. In turn, Blue Demon defeated Santo in a Welterweight championship in 1953. But frankly, the whole thing seems like a scripted storyline. The two of them stared in 10 films together, and would have starred in more, but Santo's schedule apparently prevented him appearing in one of Blue Demon's solo films which he was asked to appear in. Blue Demon was also one of the pallbearers at Santo's funeral. It seems the rivalry was built up for the sake of story, and the two were actually friends. That the two of them never appeared against each other in a Mask vs Mask match also seems to indicate a level of mutual respect between them,

But back to the insanity which is this film.

I had to laugh all the way through it. It is so weird, and so fun. It has the off-kilter feel of the old Batman TV series with Adam West. The two luchadors keep in touch with each other via radios built into their wristwatches (apparently, Santo is a genius inventor as WELL as a wrestling champion... in another film in his series he invents a TIME MACHINE....). The sight of these two huge hulking men in full face masks, trying to trail a suspect inconspicuously while riding in a tiny open top sports car is a riot. And, true to the code of Lucha Libre, the wrestlers NEVER take off their masks... not when eating, relaxing at home over a nice game of chess, or making out with their girlfriends....  The masks STAY ON.

The werewolf get a LOT of screentime in his human guise, as he romances the daughter of the professor, in order to lure her away and sacrifice her. He is absurdly vain, and when someone comments on his good looks, he responds with "Yes, I know." as if it should be perfectly obvious to anyone. He has NO DOUBTS that his victim will fall in love with him. 

Dracula seems oddly ineffective in this, with most successes coming because of Rufus and Eric being actually somewhat competent and efficient. But I really had to wonder if Drac actually thought things through very much. Towards the end, he has to punish one of the Wolfman's werewolf army, and he has a method of disposal right there in his lair: A pit full of wooden stakes! I can't see why ANY vampire might want to think twice about having something like that in their home! It couldn't POSSIBLY come back to bite him, right?

The final scenes, where Santo and Blue Demon take on the might of the army of Werewolves, the vampire minions, and finally Dracula and Rufus, is sheer chaos and joy. Good things Werewolves naturally prefer wrestling attacks over claws and biting! And when vampires are dispatched they.... explode into piles of what looks like shaving cream? Not sure what that was about. 

I need to see more of these Santo films. I quickly followed that one with Santo in the Treasure of Dracula (1968) in which he invents a time machine ... for reasons... and then uses it to learn about a great treasure that Dracula had collected, and then searches for it in the modern day, and then Santo Vs Frankenstein's Daughter (1971) in which the titular mad scientist's daughter seeks to harness the amazing healing factor that apparently Santo possesses, in order to use it in her immortality serum. 

There are films I watch because they are significant. There are films I watch because they are fascinating or informative. These films I will watch purely because they are so damn entertaining. 



Thursday, April 7, 2022

Thoughts on a 70's style Dracula

 One of the staples of Saturday evenings growing up, was the Channel 43 8 O'Clock Movie. Since the afternoons were taken up by Superhost's Saturday Mad Theater, you had a lot of movies that were aimed at younger audiences then, but once you got into the evening, more adult fare was aired. As a consequence, a lot of Hammer, Amicus, and Tigon films got screened on that later show. 

These were, during the 70s. among the most 'modern' things that were on TV at the time. And yet, because they were not domestically made, there was a certain exotic quality to them. There was something about them that seemed not as polished as the American films at the time.

Its odd that we look back and imagine Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing always opposing each other in the Dracula films, when it didn't really happen all that often. They were in Horror of Dracula (1958), which was the first, and they were in two later installments, Dracula AD 1972 (1972) and The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973). However, most of the time, Lee's Dracula had other antagonists beyond Cushing's Van Helsing. Cushing's Van Helsing showed up in several of vampire films that didn't involve Dracula per se... such as Brides of Dracula (1960) and The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires (1974). Sometimes it wasn't even the same Van Helsing, as his last two appearances he plays "Loirmer Van Helsing" the grandson of the one from the previous films. And obviously, they appeared together in many other films, including the likes of Curse of Frankenstein (1957), The Mummy (1959), The Gorgon (1964), Horror Express (1972), and various anthology movies from Amicus Films.

Their last pairing in the Dracula series was The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973), and I have to admit, when I was younger, this one never appealed to me. It was an odd entry in the series, but looking back on it, and rewatching it with my more adult eyes, I can appreciate it more for what they were trying to do.

This was the dying days of Hammer Studios. By the mid-1970s, they were casting about, looking for alternative ways to take their properties into the future. You start seeing alternative and experimental properties, such as Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter (1974) or The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires (1974). The previous year had brought Dracula forward in time to the 1970s, in Dracula AD 1972 in an attempt to make the Dracula series more relevant to the modern audience, and its not entirely successful, but you can see them try to marry the gothic sensibilities of the previous Dracula films with the 'Swinging London' of the early 70s. 

But having brought Dracula to the 70s, they didn't really know what to do with him until The Satanic Rites of Dracula, but what they did was combine together the world of the vampire with the world of James Bond. 

And why not?

In the earlier entries in the Dracula series, particularly Brides of Dracula, they treated vampirism not as a curse, or as a virus, but as a cult. The vampires are treated almost like some sort of 19th Century organized crime family, which already gives them a parallel to groups like SPECTRE in the Bond series. The present day roleplaying game Night's Black Agents, written by Ken Hite and published by Pelgrane Press plays with this idea too. 

Dracula doesn't appear in the film for quite a long time. But his presence is felt almost from the start. We have a British agent making a daring escape from imprisonment and making his way back to his superiors, just before dying of his injuries. He warns them of a satanic cult, which 4 prominent public figures have joined; a government minister, a military general, a prominent scientist, and a peer. One clever things that I can appreciate is that this agent has surreptitiously taken pictures of each person as they entered the house where the cult meets... but the fifth photo is an empty doorway. This confuses the superiors who wonder if her took it by mistake, but it cleverly sets up the presence of Dracula without actually showing him this early in the film. Why? Vampires don't appear on film, of course. They spell this out later in the movie, but its a great and subtle way to introduce the villain without showing him. 

The story is a bit.... odd. However, it fits in that sort of Bond villain way. Dracula is working with these people, especially the scientist, to develop a particularly deadly strain of plague which he is planning on releasing to wipe out humanity. Which isn't the best idea for a vampire who needs blood. And to its credit, Van Helsing points this out to him. 

Peter Cushing, by this point, was quite old, and wasn't as dynamic as he had been in 1958, but still managed to command the scene with his presence. Most of the action was taken on by Michael Coles as Inspector Murray, and Joanna Lumley as Jessica Van Helsing. Christopher Lee actually gives Dracula a bit of subtle humor in this film, unlike his near silent performances in some of the other films in the series. The alias Dracula assumes, of industrialist D. D. Denham, is portrayed with an Eastern European accent which Lee has claimed was an homage to Bela Lugosi. 

It does come across as a bit strange that Dracula is running a Satanic cult. However, it appears to be all window-dressing. The "sacrifices" are all young ladies who have already been turned into vampires... thus giving the appearance that they "heal" from mortal wounds. This seems to be done to convince the cult members of the power "D. D. Denham" wields. But it seems almost overkill. There is also a sequence in which one of Dracula's henchmen, wearing a sheepskin vest and riding a motorcycle, beats up, kidnaps, or kills anyone who happens to get close to the cult. Who this person is is never really explained much... he may just be a hanger-on. But he also takes out the main government operatives in the film with a sniper rifle. Its rather shocking to see two people who had, until this point, been main characters, killed off cavalierly by an underling. 

There is a young Joanna Lumley here, playing Jessica Van Helsing. Jessica had appeared in Dracula AD 1972 portrayed by Stephanie Beacham. Lumley plays Jessica as somewhat older and wiser than she was in the previous film, and yet, she is STILL a victim in this, selected by Dracula in the end to be his new 'bride'. While they make Jessica a bit more independent, she still requires rescue by men in the cast. It is still quite early in Lumley's career, and her more iconic performances in The New Avengers, Sapphire and Steel, and of course, Absolutely Fabulous were still years in the future.

It might have been interesting to see the series develop into a more James Bond-esque series, with Dracula in the modern era becoming a supernatural version of Blofeld. Jessica and Inspector Murray could have become a sort of Steed and Mrs Peel facing off against occult threats. This film could have been the springboard for it had Hammer continued much further. 

Vampires only appear twice more in Hammer Films during this era. Both in 1974; Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires and Captain Kronos; Vampire Hunter both of which served to expand the Hammer folklore of vampires beyond the Transylvanian model and which would have given an expansive rogues gallery to a sort of Van Helsing led government ministry had they continued this idea. The problem was, people were tired of vampires during this time. This was the era of the Exorcist, the Omen, the living dead, and more modern forms of horror, and even in the modern day, Hammer films still retained a sort of very black and white, gothic sort of morality that didn't fit well with the younger audiences at the time. But we are decades from this sort of 'shared universe'.

Quick Reviews:

The Curse of the Faceless Man (1958) - An odd little attempt to do something different with the Mummy Genre from director Edward L. Cahn and Screenwriter Jerome Bixby (Bixby would pen several episodes of the original Star Trek and the Twilight Zone). Starring Richard Anderson (who later went on to play Oscar Goldman in The Six Million Dollar Man series) it involved the discovery of the body of a petrified gladiator in Pompeii who returned to life and killed those who robbed his treasure and to play out the story of his original death again in modern times. Yes, I know there are no actual petrified bodies in Pompeii, they were plaster casts, but this film doesn't worry too much about that... or much else, as the date of the events changes from June 1 to August 24th inexplicably. Still, its not a bad little film, but not especially memorable. The monster, Quintillus, looks pretty decent.

It! The Terror from Beyond Space (1958) - ALSO from director Edward L. Cahn and screenwriter Jerome Bixby, this film was released on a Double Bill with The Curse of the Faceless Man. This is a straight up science fiction adventure, the story of which may feel.... familiar... to modern audiences. The crew of a rocket go to Mars in order to respond to a distress signal, and pick up the sole survivor of the previous Mars mission.... as well as an alien stowaway who begins picking the crew off one by one. The crew even hunt for it through the ventilation ducts of their ship. If it sounds a bit like the movie Alien (1979) you would not be considered wrong. This seems to have been something of an inspiration for the later film. Its a surprisingly tense film, and well shot, despite the cavalier attitude the crew have about using their guns and grenades inside their fragile spacecraft. The Monster (IT), it played by veteran stuntman Ray "Crash" Corrigan in his last onscreen role (per IMDB). Corrigan starred in the Republic Serial The Undersea Kingdom and there is a better than even chance that if a film or a short featured a man in a gorilla suit, its Corrigan in there. (For example, he is in the suit in the Three Stooges short Dizzy Detectives.

Island of the Burning Damned (1967) - This is an odd little science fiction film from Planet Films, and starring Christopher Lee, Patrick Allen, with a Guest Star of Peter Cushing... Directed by Terrance Fisher... What could go wrong? Whats that? "Additional Scenes by Pip and Jane Baker?" oh, crap... For those of you who don't know That pair of writers is responsible for some of the worst Dr Who stories ever. Moving on  though, this isn't a TERRIBLE film, but it is sort of convoluted. An Island off the north of Britain is experiencing a heat wave in the middle of winter, and Christopher Lee thinks its Aliens that are responsible. One by one, the islanders are roasted alive by the blobby invaders for reasons that are murky at best. I spent years looking for this film, and its its because its named at least 3 different things: Night of the Big Heat, Island of the Burning Damned, and because it got a release on US Television, Island of the Burning Doomed. It also doesn't help that it is somewhat similar to another film called Island of Terror which also stared Peter Cushing and involved Blobby monsters...

Island of Terror (1966) - This film, like the previous one, involved Peter Cushing on an island off Britain where blobby monsters are attacking and killing people. Unlike Island of the Burning Damned, the creatures here, called Silicates, liquify bones and suck them out of people, leaving behind collapsed sacks of skin. Which is sort of a really gross thing. This is a better film than Island of the Burning Damned, and has a tighter, more coherent, if somewhat far-fetched, story. It lacks for the presence of Christopher Lee, but Cushing more than makes up for it on his own.

Curse of the Living Corpse (1964) - A Dreary little thriller that would be long forgotten if it was not that this was the screen debut of Academy Award Nominee Roy Scheider.... well, everyone has to start somewhere. Apparently he got the role after his co-star Candace Hilligoss (Carnival of Souls (1962)) recommended him to the director, Del Tenney. The story is a standard Old Dark House type plot. A family patriarch dies, and leaves stipulations in his will about who can claim it, and his family argue over it while he apparently comes back from the dead to kill them all one by one. Most of the actors are forgettable, and there does not seem to be much in the way of continuity. SPOILER: Roy Scheider's character turns out to be the killer... which makes little sense in the course of the film, as we are treated to several closeups of the killer's face, and his very very light blue eyes.... and Roy Scheider has very dark brown eyes, so it obviously wasn't him running around in costume killing folks. But...  

Ship of Monsters (1960) - A peculiar Mexican Science Fiction Comedy Western Musical.... yes, did you get all that? Actually a pretty fun film, with some unexpectedly modern jokes in it (For example, the hero, upon meeting the two beautiful alien women, attempts to ascertain if they are married, have boyfriends or "swing the other way"! Wow... 1960, folks!) The robot in the film is the spitting image of Bender from Futurama. This was geared to kids, but had enough jokes aimed at adults to entertain everyone. Mexican films wore their bad special effects like a badge of honor, and this is no exception. Seriously, give it a watch... its silly fun, and you won't regret it.

War Gods of the Deep (1965) - Also known as City in the Sea, this film attempts to capitalize on the popularity of several other cinema trends from the 1960s; Edgar Allen Poe films and Jules Verne style Adventure films. With Vincent Price overacting charmingly as 'The Captain", Tab Hunter as "Ben" the stolid hero, and David Tomlinson as "Harold Tuffnell-Jones" the witty comic relief, you have the core of a fun movie. Tomlinson's obsession with his rooster Herbert brought to mind Gertrude the goose in Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959) but lead to at least one hysterically funny scene with Vincent Price catching a glimpse of Herbert with a pointed finger and a hungry "Chicken!" shout. Further, this film was directed by Jacques Tourneur and LOOKS stunning. It also helps that there is stock footage cut in from Ishiro Honda's Atragon (1963). The end result is an interesting mashup of concepts from Poe and Verne, without really being either of them. 




The Return of Dracula

 1958 seemed to have been a good year for Dracula. Perhaps the time was right for a return of the Count, after having been relegated to largely supporting roles for years. The last time Dracula actually headlined a Hollywood film was in 1943's Son of Dracula with Lon Chaney, and after that he was relegated to a supporting character in the Universal 'Monster Rallies' of the rest of the 40s, culminating in his wonderful appearance in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. The only other appearance is in the rarely seen Turkish adaptation Drakula Istanbul'da or Dracula in Istanbul. But 1958 saw renewed interest in the character when Hammer released Horror of Dracula with Christopher Lee. 

But that's not the 1958 version I want to talk about today.

No, I want to talk about the film that came out a month before the the Hammer version, which was Gramercy Pictures' The Return of Dracula. Its a film that has been overshadowed by the bright colors and gothic swashbuckling of the British film, but I think maybe its been a bit unfairly overlooked.



The story is pretty basic, but seeks to update Dracula to a more modern (at the time) setting; that of 1958 California. It keeps the basic premise behind the previous versions of Dracula, that of the Count coming to a foreign land in search of new feeding grounds. However, this film put me much in mind of Orson Welles 1948 film The Stranger, in that its less that he is looking for new blood, but he is fleeing those who would hunt him. 

In the opening scenes of The Return of Dracula, an investigator named John Meierman has tracked Dracula to a cemetery with his crew and uncover his coffin, ready to stake him. This scene is actually really wonderful, as it evokes a gathering of killers from a film noir, as they very professionally scout the area, check their weapons (crosses and stakes), and count down to the proper time to strike. As Meierman walks across the cemetery, his men fall in behind him in formation like a well honed military patrol, in which each person seeming to know exactly what his role is. Dialogue here is minimal, but effective. They are shocked to find the coffin empty.

Meanwhile, poor Czech artist Bellack Gordal is saying goodbye to his family as he is going to visit his distant cousin in America. He boards a train, and is nearly instantly murdered by Dracula, who steals his passport and identity and travels to America having assumed the name of Bellack Gordal, apparently to escape Meierman and his hunters. 

And this is why I kept thinking of The Stranger. It echoed the themes of pursuit from Welles' film with vampire hunters replacing Nazi hunters. Some critics apparently see undertones of Cold War paranoia in this film, but that is less apparent to me than the Nazi Hunting angle. 

Lets talk for a moment about Dracula, portrayed here by the suave Francis Lederer. Lederer was born in Prague in 1899 and eventually moved to the United States in the 1930s. He was apparently tricked by his agent into playing this role, and resented it. Nevertheless, he is actually pretty effective as Dracula. When we look at the actors who have previously portrayed the Count, he does seem to stand out. Lugosi set the standard, of course, with someone who was aristocratic, but a bit alien, and Lee brought to it a sort of bestial energy. Lon Chaney's Count was melancholy and somewhat tragic, and John Carradine was more abrupt and spooky. Lederer though is restrained, aristocratic, suave and mysterious, and plays the vampire as a sort of antichrist. He ditches the old fashioned clothes, tailed tuxedos, and capes, in favor of a modern, elegant suit and tie, with a long, black overcoat thrown over his shoulders calling to mind the capes of old. He blends in, but still presents as elegantly attired and sophisticated. One nice touch is that he does a lot of acting with just his face. He moves stiffly, and his face is frequently blank... but several times, there are closeups of his face where he seems to be concentrating, and shifting the expression on his face to suit the people and the occasion. Its like he has to consciously decide what is the appropriate expression to take. He has to remember how to smile or how to look concerned. Its subtle, but gives his characterization a certain sense of disconnection from humanity. It reminded me of Willem Dafoe's speech in Shadow of the Vampire (2000) where he talks about how sad it must be for Orlock to try and remember what it was like to be human

One other thing I noticed was the rather powerful soundtrack. It seemed familiar... and then I realized why. It was Dies Irae, which was also used in an arrangement by Wendy Carlos in Kubrick's The Shining (1980). Its an ominous theme, especially combined with Lederer's purposeful striding as he leaves the place where his coffin in concealed.

Finally, it must be noted that this was a 'gimmick' film. So much so that William Castle sued the producers for offering life insurance to audience members, which was one of his own gimmicks. There is also a sequence towards the end, when the secondary vampire is staked, that a closeup is offered of the stake penetrating the chest, and suddenly the film switches for just a few seconds to full color, allowing you to see a gout of bright red blood burst forth. Its a startling scene if you're not expecting it. This was apparently cut from television copies as the color would have been too hard to reproduce (to say nothing of the fact that black and white televisions were still the norm, going into the 1970s.) 

One peculiar this about this film... take a close look at the closeup of the leading lady's face; Norma Eberhardt had heterochromia... each eye is a different color. Its subtle, but the difference can be seen, even in black and white. I just find this interesting. Eberhardt's Rachel is the central protagonist of the film, and I find her somewhat intriguing. She represents something of a departure in vampire film heroine's, in that she is given a lot more agency than many. So often in vampire films, the heroine is literally "too pure" for this world. They are innocent and even when they have a love interest, they seem chaste and fragile and somewhat angelic. An exception to this might be Katherine Caldwell (Louise Allbritton) in Son of Dracula (1943) or even perhaps Sandra Mornay (Lenore Aubert) in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), but those seemed more unusual. But in this one, Rachel is portrayed as being a bit more 'worldly', and is heavily implied to be far from virginal. She attempts to throw off the influence of Dracula whenever she becomes aware of it, and is instrumental in protecting HERSELF. At the climax of the film, she takes advantage of Dracula's distraction to get away, and then helps to dispel the vampire's influence over her boyfriend Tim (Ray Stricklyn)... all while our ersatz Van Helsing and his crew are busy elsewhere. She SAVES HERSELF and the "hero" at the climax of the film. 

This film is not without its flaws. Meierman is severely under-developed, and the local authorities seem awfully quick to accept his stories of vampires, with the local sheriff and minister signing up almost immediately. The heroine's little brother, Mickey, vanishes from the narrative shortly after he reports that his cat has been killed (offscreen, thankfully). When Meierman's colleague is lured into the woods, I presume Jennifer is supposed to turn into a wolf to maul him, however, they used a rather friendly looking dog in place of a wolf. The ending is abrupt and somewhat head scratching as Dracula is undone ... apparently by his own clumsiness and lack of spatial awareness of his own lair. 

But its still definitely worth a look. Its an obscure film, but I wasn't disappointed to have to track it down.





Friday, September 10, 2021

In Depth Reconsideration: Lifeforce (1985)

 



When I was in college, most of the horror hosts of my childhood had faded away. Ron 'The Ghoul' Sweed had moved his show to Detroit. Marty 'Superhost' Sullivan had retired. Keven 'Son of the Ghoul' Scarpino failed to keep the real energy of his predecessor. Big Chuck and Little John remained on late night TV on Fridays, but they seemed to be showing the same films over and over. But the horror film host gave way, at least for me, to films curated by my peers in the dormitory. This is when I first came across Sam Raimi and Stuart Gordon and David Cronenberg and David Lynch. I remember watching Evil Dead in the TV Lounge of long lost Munzenmeyer Hall at Kent State. Several of us gathered to watch Videodrome in my dorm room, appropriately played on a well-worn and battered videotape copy (Long live the New Flesh!). We talked about The Lost Boys while sitting under a poster of Re-Animator and The Stuff on my closet door. 

And one of the films that got a lot of play was Tobe Hooper's 1985 science fiction horror story Lifeforce. Tobe Hooper had a hard time in Hollywood, but among horror aficionados, he is considered a rare talent. He is the the man who established so many horror film tropes in his seminal work The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). He directed the mainstream success Poltergeist (1982) however there were persistent rumors that it was actually directed by Steven Spielberg (Spielberg denies this, and even published a letter in The Hollywood Reporter giving full credit to Hooper.). As a result, Hooper never really achieved the level of fame that he probably deserved. 

Lifeforce is an adaptation of Colin Wilson's 1974 book The Space Vampires. I have not read the book, so I cannot comment on its relationship to the film to the novel, however it is well known that Wilson considered it the worst film adaptation of a novel ever (and not just one of his own). It tells the story of a space mission which finds a gigantic alien spacecraft in the tail of Halley's comet and discovers three human looking occupants seemingly in suspended animation in crystalline chambers, and the desiccated remains of hundreds of bat-like aliens. They bring these 'humans' aboard their ship, the shuttle 'Churchill' and start back for Earth. Contact is lost, and the ship is found drifting by Earth-based tracking stations, and a rescue mission is mounted. The rescue shuttle discovers the interior of the ship has been burned, and the crew apparently incinerated, though the escape pod is missing. They also find the 3 alien bodies intact and bring them back to Earth and take them to a research facility in London. 

As it turns out, the beings are merely dormant. The female wakes up, and immediately all hell breaks loose, as she drains the life-force from the doctor examining her, in a spectacular light show, and leaves behind his drained corpse. She then walks, fully nude out of the facility, killing anyone who tries to stop her. 

Lets stop and talk the Space Girl for a moment, shall we? 

If there is an enduring image or something that most people remember from this film, its the fact that Mathilda May spends most of this film completely naked. Hooper apparently claimed he made that choice essentially to emphasize how alien she was. I can sort of see what he was going for... sort of. She is a completely flawless beauty, perfect in form, but also utterly unconcerned with conventional human morality. On the other hand.... its a male director, who keeps his leading lady naked for an entire film, and its hard to not see that as sexualizing her in a really over the top way.  Particularly as the male vampires don't get this treatment, and once they get dressed, they stay dressed for the remainder of the film. There seems to be a lot to unpack regarding Ms. May's nudity in this film.

 I can look back at when I viewed this film in my college days, and how I reacted to these scenes. I would have seen this shortly after it came out, and I would have been in my first year of college... so my late teens. Mathilda May would have been roughly my own age. As a straight male, in my late teens, early 20s, I am not sure I reacted the way most others of my age would have. I recall seeing her nude, and being attracted by her, but at the same time, her constant nudity in this film made me uncomfortable. I can't speak to how my dorm-mates reacted. I seem to remember some crude or roughly appreciative comments by some of them. They didn't seem to be as uncomfortable as me. I wanted to look... but I also found myself looking away in embarrassment, as if this was something I shouldn't be seeing. Which is odd, in a way, because through most of this film, she isn't doing anything really 'sexual' in nature.... at least not until the final scenes of the film, and even then, its little more than kissing being done. Its also not like I was repelled by the female form...

So, on re-watching it with more mature eyes, I wonder if perhaps Hooper may have been onto something. I have often puzzled over the idea of that vampires are inherently sexy, or that there is a connection between sex and death. I've always been of the opinion that Freudian analysis of film only works if the filmmaker himself was deliberately exploiting Freudian ideas and imagery. Freudian analysis of horror films annoys me even more. Many of Freud's ideas have become discredited... apparently everywhere EXCEPT in film critique. The vampire has been romanticized, by film makers since the time of Lugosi''s Dracula, and I think that the idea of 'romance' has been misidentified with sexuality. Consequently, when you look at the vampire in many films, they come across as seducers. While there is an element of that in Lifeforce, it comes across as ... 'tainted', in a way that none of the other vampire films manage. 

The Space Girl is absolutely attractive. But she is never put into deliberately provocative poses or framing. She moves in an unnatural way, even if she is graceful. She moves like a robot. And I think that is the key to what Hooper is going for. There is an uncanny valley effect that he generates with her, by keeping her naked and flawless, by having her move in such an alien manner, she becomes UNNATURAL. Had they put her in clothing, she would have suddenly seemed much more human... there would have been some suggestion that she understood aesthetics or style or morality. The connection between The Space Girl and the astronaut Col. Tom Carlson is described, by Carlson, as a form of 'love', but when she speaks of it, she describes it more in terms you might consider parasitical, while his descriptions indicate he feels something is WRONG with it. Its unnatural. The other doctor that survives the attack describes it as "sexual, but terrifying". Several characters comment on the intense 'feminine energy' of the Space Girl. This gets more into Jungian archetypes than Freudian, and again, I think its deliberate. I suppose a case could be made that this is a woman who is confident in her own sexuality, and Hooper is saying that should be feared by men, but I don't particularly find this a terrifying thing. In fact I consider it a good thing. "Feminine Energy" is not something that bothers me. So, what is so unnerving about her to me? 

Here is the thing. I mentioned before that the way she moves is unnatural. We've seen the other 'vampires' become something other than human. We see them, both living and dead, as bat-like creatures. This human body that the Space Girl wears is just a simulacrum. She even claims that she pulled the image of a 'perfect woman' from Carlson's mind to appear this way for him. She is not really human, she constantly reminds us when she speaks that she is "OTHER". When she feeds on humans,  there is no consent... except with Col. Carlson, and even he admits he felt 'compelled' to share his life force with her. This is not romance... this is rape. And I think THAT is what is uncomfortable about it to me. 

And its the same reason I am uncomfortable about other vampires... they bypass consent. They compel. They take under coercion and compulsion.... which is, ultimately, rape. It doesn't matter that it is a male or a female doing it. What we have in Lifeforce is something inhuman, masquerading as human, and surviving through rape... the taking of lifeforce, (or blood in the case of vampire films) through coercion and force. And, in the case of Carlson, its manipulating what I consider the noblest of human emotions, love, which is personally upsetting.

Looking at it again, we see a beautiful naked woman, but we always see her in settings of death and destruction, or in clinical settings. It is NOT sexy. There is a very different feeling to seeing a naked woman in a stairwell, rather than in, say, a bedroom. We see her in a lab, we see her in a psychiatrists office, we see her in a ruined cathedral, we see her walking across broken glass. She is unconcerned. She is stiff, and she moves in that weirdly artificial way. As I said before, she exists in the 'Uncanny Valley'... that point there something inhuman becomes almost, but not quite human, and the a result both attracts and repels you at the same time. 

Which sounds like it could be what Hooper was hoping... EXCEPT.... Except its ONLY the female vampire which remains naked. The male vampires are naked initially, and then find clothes, and remain clothed for the remainder of the film. Which causes the line from Colonel Caine, delivered with deep solemnity, after the discover of the first victim outside the lab "Now she has clothes." a completely irrelevant observation... Nor does she even NEED clothes as apparently she can shapeshift and she can possess others, as seen with Dr Armstrong, who dies in a bizarre scene when all his blood opts to leave his body and reshape itself into Space Girl. The male vampires, by the way, shapeshift into glowing balls of light and zip around, so, presumably she can do that too. But even then, when they shift back to human form, they are fully and stylishly dressed. Which means that her nudity was.... unnecessary? 

That said, the film DOES play with our perceptions of sex, gender and sexuality. In one instance, we see Carlson communicating with the Space Girl telepathically, and we see most of the scene playing out between them... And then they kiss, and we are reminded, by a shift in perspective, that she is currently possessing the body of Sir Patrick Stewart, and we see the two actors kissing instead. At another point, Carlson reveals that "the girl" is a masochist, and wish him to FORCE her location from her through violence, and offers Col. Caine the opportunity to leave the room, at which Caine cheekily replies that he's a natural voyeur and opts to remain. Again... this is upsetting more because of consent than at the idea of sadomasochism. Consensual kinks are one thing, but while "the girl" may be into it, its questionable whether or not her host is, and that brings it back to rape. The lines of love, sex, rape, heterosexuality, homosexuality, and various kinks like BDSM and Voyeurism all blur. Its a bit of a weird message in the masochism aspect though... If the Space Girl is such a powerful 'feminine energy' then being a masochist sort of undermines the idea that she is a strong, 'in control' woman. The message is definitely mixed. While its not impossible for a this combination of qualities to exist, it does sort of speak to a weird male set of perceptions. 

Its a curious mix, which does seem to include Freudian and Jungian characteristics, despite my insistence that they don't tend to occur unless they are deliberately inserted. I think their insertion here was deliberate. Tobe Hooper apparently went on record as saying the film was about "Men dealing with the feminine mystique or the feminine terror" and males dealing with 'the feminine in themselves.', which is extremely Jungian. The problem, I think, is that Hooper isn't really qualified to speak on this issue, and he falls on his face. Points for trying I guess, especially at a time like 1985, when such things like that really were not done. But his idea, apparently, for 'dealing' with the feminine means beating it into compliance as our central female is 'an extreme masochist', or stabbing both her and yourself with a phallic sword... which is not exactly an enlightened view. 

The ending is ambiguous, and puzzling. Carlson stabs both the Space Girl and himself, impaling them both on the same sword. They are apparently dead. But there is a final, collective burst of Lifeforce energy, which blows the top off the cathedral and transmits up to the orbiting vampire ship. We then see both the Space Girl, and Carlson, and seemingly rejuvenated bat creatures, all in their glass coffins as the ship leaves orbit, presumably to take its place behind Halley's comet again. We see Caine in the ruined Cathedral, but we don't see what happened to the rest of the infected in London. The massive release of Lifeforce to the ship seemed like it implied that the Space Girl simply.... pulled in all the life force collected by the infected (which had apparently previously been harvested by her 'mates' and delivered to her.) 

There are many interesting subtexts in this film. Looked at in one way, this is an inverse telling of Dracula. A female 'Dracula' and her two male 'brides' come to England in search of new feeding grounds. She shares a psychic link with her chosen mate (Mina in Dracula, Col, Carlson in Lifeforce.) There is an expert in 'thanatology' in both (Van Helsing in Dracula, Dr. Hans Fallada in Lifeforce). Carlson comes across as a mixture of Mina Harker and brash American Quincy Morris, who eventually kills the main vampire with a blade and dies in the act (Although, I don't see a bowie knife and a massive sword of 'leaded iron' as being quite the same.) This leads to Colonel Caine being roughly a mix of Van Helsing and Arthur Holmwood. The vampires arrive in both cases aboard a ghost ship who's crew is either dead or gone overboard (The Demeter in Dracula, The Churchill in Lifeforce). Both stories involve an asylum, and the administrator of the asylum plays a part in each (Dr Seward in Dracula, and Dr. Armstrong in Lifeforce (And as a bonus, Armstrong acts as an Agent of the vampire, meaning he not only fulfills the Dr. Seward role, but the Renfield role as well.) 

Looked at another way, they treat the vampire problem like a terrorist threat, which is why they call in Col. Caine from the SAS. They respond to the threat like they would to IRA involvement, including slapping D-Notices on the local press to blackout reports of what is happening, using military to cordon off the areas affected, and treating the Space Girl like she is live munitions. The scenes toward the end of the film, of London overrun by the zombie-like infected hunting for life force among rubble, burning vehicles, and with bodies strewn everywhere puts one in mind of a terrorist actions, and videos we've seen from Iraq and Afghanistan. In this scenario, the Vampire is seen as an immigrant bringing dangerous new ways to cause chaos. 

We can see it as a Lovecraftian pastiche, as Wilson's original novel was intended. In this reading the film is about ancient, slumbering, alien evil that awakes and spreads havoc for a time and are largely indifferent to humans. It is explained through the film that these space vampires have visited Earth before, and our legends speak about them. There is some odd mythology at play here. Dr. Fallada talks about how to destroy the creatures, it basically by using a stake through the heart, but the stake must be made of "leaded iron" and not impaled through the heart but through "The energy center two inches below the heart." (Conveniently, 'leaded iron' appears to include bullets.) 

The final scenes, of the infected swarming through the streets of London in an apocalyptic fury are haunting, and brought to my mind the madness of the final scenes of 1967's  Five Million Years to Earth (Also known as Quatermass and the Pit in the UK). This was a more visceral scene of 'zombie apocalypse' than most actual zombie films of the era. The year this was released saw also the release of George Romero's Day of the Dead and Lamberto Bava's Demons which both have that apocalyptic feel, but fail to capture the chaos that Lifeforce does. 

Honestly, another of the most haunting scenes for me was the point where Caine and Carlson arrive at the "secure facility" where the Prime Minister and the majority of the government have been moved. The PM asks them to wait while urgently calling for his secretary. The two men notice that he has left the door of his office slightly ajar after he takes the secretary inside, and curious, they peek in, and see the PM take the woman behind a screen... and then the light show indicating that he has been infected and is feeding on the poor woman. Caine and Carlson realize there is no help here, the Government is now compromised from the top down and immediately flee the facility. There was a bleakness to that reveal which you didn't often see in films of the time. Other films may mention offhand that the government has fallen... this shows it to you, and lets you feel the desperation. 

In speaking about this film with friends, one of them stated "This is a bad movie." But is it? It is absolutely a PROBLEMATIC movie, for the reasons I stated above regarding the odd choices about its central female character. But, conversely, the story has no really serious plot holes in it. There are certainly some bizarre choices which make little sense, but nothing that exactly breaks the story. It remains consistent to its own rules. The disappearance of one character is actually explained in a throwaway piece of dialogue saying he was killed off-screen. In fact, we can't really fault the story without faulting Dracula  before it. The special effects are top notch, and visually the film holds up well. It is beautifully shot. The design of the vampiric spacecraft manages to be bio-mechanical without being a blatant rip-off of H.R. Geiger's designs in Alien (1979).

The acting is solid, with the possible exception of the bland Steve Railsback as Colonel Tom Carlson, who ... is not compelling as a lead in this. But his unlikability leads us to watch instead Peter Firth as SAS Colonel Colin Caine, who turns in an understated but fantastic performance as a disciplined and unflappable badass who manages to make wearing a trench coat over a leather jacket and turtleneck look cool. Patrick Stewart plays a minor but important role, and plays it with all the skill you'd expect. You'll also see veteran character actors in other roles and doing a fine job. And you really can't fault the bravery and professionalism of Mathilda May. She OWNS the role of the Space Girl, despite what must have been incredibly difficult shooting conditions for her, since she literally had to build her character without benefit of wardrobe. The musical score is by freaking Henry Mancini. John Dykstra provides the Special Effects. Dan O'Bannon provides the script (though admittedly, there IS some clumsy dialogue here.) This movie has some solid talent behind it. 

In other words, the film is entertaining, watchable.... but deeply flawed. It is not so much a BAD movie, as its a confusing, and somewhat exploitative one. It is perhaps 10 years ahead of its time in a lot of ways. It probably needed those 10 years to completely digest and process some of the themes it thinks its dealing with, in order to show them in a more mature way. As a product of 1985, viewed in context, it is actually quite shocking. Its easy to see why it did not garner much of an audience at the time. The cinema-going public wasn't quite prepared for this sort of experience. 

In preparing this article, I've looked over a number of interviews and reviews of the film, from contemporary and modern critics and fans. One of the odd things I've noticed is the large number of articles bemoaning who was NOT cast in the film. Like every movie, the makers often have other actors in mind, and sometimes actors sign on early, and leave the project for various reasons. Some reviewers seem almost offended in those cases in this movie. Apparently, Sir John Gielgud turned down the role of Dr. Armstrong. Olivia Hussey was once attached to play Ellen Donaldson. Klaus Kinski was to play Dr. Fallada. Michael Caine was sought for the role of Col. Colin Caine. And my reaction to this is.... So? Could any of them have really made that big of an impact on the film? Stewart does a fantastic job as Armstrong, and I have serious doubts if Gielgud could have done it better. Ellen Donaldson is a frankly forgettable character, and having an actress of Ms. Hussey's caliber playing her would not have made it any more memorable. Klaus Kinski is such a unique presence that he would have been a distraction in the role of Fallada, to say nothing of it being a sort of role he's already associated with. Michael Caine wouldn't have played Colin Caine at this stage in his career, he would have been playing Michael Caine, and his absence allows for the grittier, more calculated SAS officer we get in Peter Firth. 

As a final little note.... listen to the opening narration. Is that not John Larroquette? IMDB says its unconfirmed. However, Larroquette's first movie role was providing the narrative voice that opens Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and he was a friend of Hooper's. He went on to provide narration for other films in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series, so it wouldn't be a stretch that he did this opening monologue either. He would have just been starting his breakout role as Dan Fielding on Night Court at this time, but that show had not yet become the huge sitcom phenomenon it would later be. Prior to Night Court, his longest lasting role was probably Lt. Bob Anderson on the WWII action series Black Sheep Squadron (1976-78). 

Monday, August 30, 2021

Like a House on Fire...

 In a previous post, I talked about Italian horror and giallo films, and I touched on Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci. I mentioned, in particular, Fulci's film 'The Beyond' from 1983. Fulci once argued against the criticism of The Beyond as being incoherent by saying that it was 'a film of images, which must be received without any reflection.' and that while any 'idiot' can understand the like of La Cage aux Folles or Escape from New York, because they have 'threads' (by which I assume he means a unified plot which matches story dialogue and explanations to the visuals on the screen, there were only two films which he considered 'absolute films'.... The Beyond, and Dario Argento's Inferno (1980).

Inferno is, if you will forgive the pun, the spiritual successor to Argento's Suspiria (1977). It is a grimier, more down to earth film than Suspiria however, and the dreamlike imagery that worked so well in the previous film here has taken on less of a dream-like quality, and more of a nightmarish texture. There are still peculiar and unexplained set pieces, their is still an old and crumbling edifice that holds bizarre secrets (In particular, both places have inexplicable rooms in them... the neon-lit room filled with razor wire in Suspiria, and in Inferno, a sealed Ballroom filled with water.), and of course, each holds one of the three great witch mothers, Mater Suspiriorum and Mater Tenebrarum respectively. But where the building in Suspiria is beautiful and dreamy in its presentation, the building in Inferno is run down and crumbling, and infested with various pests. Suspiria is alluded to in passing, with the dialogue mentioning that Mater Suspiriorum is living in a building in Freiburg, Germany.... which was the setting of the first film. Apparently word hadn't made it to New York about her death in the previous film, though.

Fulci has a point though, in that not everything is neatly explained in Inferno. You take your best guess at some of the events going on. The film opens with young poetess Rose, who lives in New York, reading about the Three Mothers, and apparently growing suspicious that Mater Tenebrarum is living in the neighborhood. This leads her to the basement of her building, where she accidentally drops her keys into a hole in the floor filled with water. She turns on the lights.... which also apparently turns on the lights in the room under the water, and then jumps in to go retrieve the keys. Here we find a couple of things... first is that Rose can apparently hold her breath for about 20 minutes at a time. And second, there are dead bodies in the water too...  WHY this room is filled with water is anyone's guess. There appear to be no entrances other than this hole in the ceiling of the room. Its very peculiar, and its presence, much like the room full of razor wire in Suspiria is NEVER explained.

Rose leaves, and rather than going immediately to the police and saying "Hey there are dead bodies here..." she decides to write a letter to her brother who is attending college in Rome. She outlines what she knows about the Three Mothers in the letter and asks him to visit. Her brother Mark, oddly, has the letter delivered to him by a classmate, during a Musicology lesson. This letter appears, partly, to have teleported to Rome in moments, by the way. Mark is distracted from both the letter AND the lesson by a beautiful woman sitting at one of the other desks, with a cat, who turns to stare at him, and mouths something to him that he can't hear. The windows all blow open and strong winds fill the room, and not one person notices. Who is this woman? Who knows? We never find out. She appears once more in the film, driving slowly by Mark in a taxi, and staring at him after he has found the bodies of a couple fellow students. He managed to lose the letter, (which is apparently why the other students are killed... they FOUND the letter.) and instead calls his sister, and tells her he'll come visit... and she tells him NOTHING MORE. Someone appears at her door, and she flees, leaving the phone off the hook, and is murdered in another room.

This is where space and time seem to make no sense. 

The previous scene, Rose is in the basement, she is followed by someone out of the basement, who stalks her for a bit. She takes the time to write this letter, mail it, it gets all the way to Rome, where it has various misadventures before Mark calls Rose, who is only NOW aware of someone following her, and runs off to get murdered. If we assume days have passed, what was Rose doing in the meantime? Why would she stay in the evil murder building where she suspects a centuries old witch to be living? 

It doesn't matter. Mark comes to New York, and goes to Rose's apartment, where he finds the phone off the hook. He thoughtfully replaces it, but again, doesn't bother to call the police and tell them that his sister vanished while on the phone with him. It gets worse. While he is doing this, he runs into a pretty young lady, who is, apparently, an ailing Countess who just HAPPENS to be staying in the run down building in New York City, and who wanders around barefoot... despite being, apparently, deathly ill. This lady happens to step on bloodstains from the attack on Rose... which are still wet. 

Really? When did this attack actually happen, anyway? Or does blood ever really dry in the universe of the Three Mothers? 

People in this film are continuously murdered, or disappear... but no one ever stops to call the police about any of it. Some of the deaths are downright bizarre too. The countess? She is attacked by dozens of housecats (which look like stage hands are standing just off camera and gently tossing at her. I laughed.) and is then stabbed to death. A disabled antique dealer is swarmed by rats.... and then a random hot dog vender RUNS at top speed across the park after hearing his cries for help, and DOES help him! By hacking off his head with a knife. Uh, huh? Who is this randomly murderous hot dog vendor? Well, it IS New York in 1980, I guess. Another woman panics and manages to set herself on fire.... this, weirdly, becomes a plot point, as she manages to set the whole building on fire in the process.

Our hero (such as he is), manages to find his way to a whole series of secret rooms, where the Mother of Darkness reveals herself to him. What her plan is? Is never really made clear. There is one really cool sequence that is ruined at the last moment. Mater Tenebrarum vanishes from in front of Mark's eyes, and reappears inside the mirror in the room, where she continues her evil villain speech. She gets to a part where she says that collectively, she and her sisters are known as... DEATH! And with this pronouncement, she strikes to reverse of the mirror and emerges as it shatters as a grim visaged Grim Reaper! .... Or that was the theory at any rate. The problem with this sequence is not the shattering of the mirror, or the emerging from it, that looks great. The problem is, instead of an intimidating Grim Reaper costume, we get a cheap plastic skeleton the likes of which you'd find in one of those seasonal Halloween Stores that pop up in abandoned Circuit City locations.

I think wisely, Argento limits shots of this to quick cuts. However, Mark manages to escape the skeleton, and the blazing building, and watch from the outside with a crowd as the building falls in on the Mother of Darkness. Which.... is sort of a relief, because the blaze actually started some 20 minutes previously, and seemed to have absolutely no effect on any of the areas Mark was in. He not only has time to solve the final riddle of where to look for the witch, he also has time to explore the halls beneath the floors, find the secret room where the alchemist Varelli is hiding, have a conversation with him, fight with him, locate the place the witch is hiding, and have a long conversation with her.... and THEN the fire becomes an issue. Weirdly, Mater Tenebrarum seems to indicate, in her final rant, that she KNOWS the building is on fire, and she seems to have a plan for survival. But then she dies anyway, once Mark is safely outside.

There is so much that is unexplained over the course of this film. Why is there a sunken ballroom? Who are the dead bodies in it? Who is the woman with the cat in Rome? Who killed the other students in Rome? What is the time line here? Why is there a room full of feral cats? Why do the rats decide to attack the antique dealer? Why does the hot dog vender kill the antique dealer? Why are they bothering to kill everyone in the building OTHER than Mark? Why save Mark when he is helpless, but kill the Countess? 

Some of these things you can make a guess at. My guess, for example, is that the woman in Rome was either an agent of Mater Lachrymarum or the witch herself, and she's killing anyone researching the Three Mothers. She doesn't kill Mark because at that point, he hasn't even heard or read the name of the Three Mothers, let alone started looking into it. The animals and the hot dog vender? Ok, The Mother of Darkness controlled them to make life miserable for her victims I guess. Why save Mark when he's helpless? Well... if I understood her rant at the end, Mater Tenebrarum seemed to have some plans for him.

AS for the time line of events, you're on your own. I think you need to be Gallifreyan to understand how it worked.

But with all that said, despite all its problems, this is an eminently WATCHABLE movie. Its gothic sort of sensibilities seem almost an update of Hammer's style. Its intensely visual in its approach. A great deal of attention is paid to most of the production values. The costumes are stunning. The set dressing is top notch. Its that value that makes the appearance of the cheap skeleton at the end so glaring. 

But is it, as Fulci claimed, an 'Absolute Film'? 

No, not really. See, an 'Absolute' film is something entirely abstract. It was a film movement in 1920s Germany. The idea was that film didn't have to be combined to a narrative to be affecting. In its purest form, they were animated, abstract films.The problem is, Inferno has a very necessary narrative, and one that even ties in with a previous film's narrative, nor is it particularly abstract.

What it DOES do is pay homage to early surrealist cinema. There are shots that seem to be lifted wholesale from Luis Bunuel's Un Chien Andalou (1929). The scene with the ants on the hand comes almost directly from Bunuel. The gore in Un Chien Andalou is actually almost MORE graphic than that in Inferno in one case, but in both there is gore and violence directed at eyeballs. 

Further, time seems only relative to the film itself.... so the blood spilled in the scene previous, which narratively must have been spilled days ago, is still wet, because within the confines of the film, it only was spilled a few minutes before. This is the same sort of narrative structure that Un Chien Andalou has, which makes jumps in time, forward and backward, without any impact on the characters. Inferno might be considered Un Chien Andalou with a bright color pallet. 

But where there is no real 'story' in Un Chien Andalou, there IS in Inferno, so it is not really an "absolute" film, as Fulci claimed. But it acknowledges the existence of absolute film and its French counterpart, Cinema Pur, and the Surrealist movement that spawned them.

The dreamlike imagery is in full evidence. The entire scene in the musicology class plays out like a surrealist  silent film. The musical score that the students listen to is the only sound really evident, just as you would have in a silent film. No one sees the woman with the cat other than our main character, and she is dressed completely out of place from the other students, nor is she wearing headphones like the rest of them. No one reacts to her, or the cat, and no one reacts to the windows of the room suddenly blowing open with game force winds... that don't seem to rustle the papers on the desks. When the woman turns, she looks directly at the camera and speaks, but we do not know what she said, which is staged much like early silent films. Once again, like a dream, the woman and the cat both vanish. 

Like all of Argento's films, the use of color is astonishing. In this case the colors almost feel hallucinogenic. When Mark finds his way to the secret rooms of the building, he moves from a room lit in bright neon reds and gold, down into a hidden world lit by soft green lights. It almost reminded me of Rose's descent into the sunken ballroom, which is done in brilliant aqua, like a swimming pool. 

There is also an alchemical subtext to the film as well. One of the central ideas is that the alchemist Varelli, who wrote the book on the three mothers, may have also designed their homes. We see elemental imagery through the film as well.... Opening with the sunken ballroom (Water), the wind blowing open the windows (Air), the descent in the the depths of the building, symbolically going underground (Earth), and finally ending in the Inferno of the title, (Fire). 

Argento has a great love of visual art, and this is not the first time we've seen that in an Argento film. Look at my previous mention in a previous post of the diner he put into Profundo Rosso. The diner intentionally invokes the Edward Hopper painting Nighthawks, but also recalls the isolation that you see in a Hopper painting. In the 25th Anniversary documentary about Suspiria, he says ""For Suspiria I was inspired by everything that German Expressionism means; dreams, provocations, unreality, and psychoanalysis." but additionally, he has said that the color pallet of Suspiria was inspired by Disney's Snow White.

He is far from the only director who has ever been inspired like this, but he is one of the most stylish about it. I could talk at some point about the artistic influences behind Hitchcock's Psycho (the house is a visual call out, again, to Edward Hopper, and his painting The House by the Railroad.) Hitchcock was more restrained and naturalist in his homages than Argento. But that is one of the nice things about this is that it IS such a distinctive visual style, and makes Argento a unique and beautiful director.

But Bunuel's intention in Un Chien Andalou was to shock 'polite' society... and in the words of film critic Ado Kyrou, he actively sought to 'alienate all potential spectators.' This seems an apt summation of Inferno as well. Argento made a career of shocking images. And moreso in Inferno, I think, where, there is much to alienate the viewer. Certainly his next films, Tenebrae, Phenomena, and Opera, have much more straightforward storylines, even if they still deal with violence, mystery, and gore.

For fans of the surreal, or giallo, or Italian Horror in general, or Dario Argento, Inferno is worth a look. It is not, in my opinion, his BEST work, but it is arguably his most complex work from the point of view of cinema.