1970s horror

The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (1975)

It’s 1902, in Ireland, and a group of actresses are invited to stay at the castle of Count Richard Marnack (played by Giacomo Rossi-Stuart). He is especially attracted to Evelyn (Patrizia Webley) because she reminds him of his dead wife. Or maybe she’s missing. Something. Oh yeah, there’s a curse in the Marnack family bloodline where the men go crazy and cut their wives’ heads off. I think that’s what it was. Anyway, it isn’t long before members of the group start turning up with their heads cut off. Ugh, I can’t even summon up the energy to describe this bag of crap.

Man oh man, this is one busted-ass Italian cinematic nightmare. I’ve seen many gialli with weak plots, tepid scripts, awkward actors, painfully over-the-top performances, cheap gore effects, listless direction, bland sets, unimaginative lighting, lame dubbing, and a complete lack of suspense. However, all of these factors rarely occur in the SAME DANG FILM! Alfredo Rizzo, I’m calling you out! The curiously (and severely misleadingly) titled The Bloodsucker Leads The Dance is one dreary movie experience. If you can even get through the longest 89 minutes on Earth, you’ll wonder why you did.

As to why these actors ever showed up to work everyday… Well, it must be some kind of a miracle. Giacomo Rossi-Stuart of The Night Evelyn Came Out of Her Grave and Death Smiled at Murder has certainly been much better in other films. I can’t really blame him for sleepwalking through this one. Krista Nell (Night of the Devils) seems to be the only one having any fun as Cora, the slutty actress. Redhead hottie Femi Benussi (Strip Nude for Your Killer) seems utterly confounded as to the “complex” nature of her role as Sybil, the maid. Shhh, she’s got a secret love for Count Marnack! God help poor Evelyn, played by the beautiful Patrizia Webley in her film debut (ouch).

Comic relief comes from Leo Valeriano as Samuel, stagehand and manager for the actresses. No, wait. I actually have no clue what this duder’s purpose is. Anyway, this sad schmuck is ridiculed by the ladies throughout the film. They refer to him as being “half a man” (?) and never miss an opportunity to remind him that they think of him as a eunuch. As an actor, Valeriano is awful but he does manage to put some of the most bizarre and hilariously inappropriate facial expressions I’ve ever seen into his performance.

The plodding pace of Bloodsucker will destroy your happy thoughts. As for the film’s “finale”, um… no. The big reveal goes off like a wet firework. For those of you brave souls out there who insist on seeing every Italian horror movie ever made and for those that will ignore my warnings about the unfathomable suck that is The Bloodsucker Leads The Dance, here is the only reason to watch this film: sex and nudity. Oh yeah, and there a couple of really pathetic and cheap severed heads. Dang, this may just be the worst giallo ever made. Yeah, don’t watch this… unless you want to.

“The world is a stage but sometimes it isn’t.”

Haunts

Haunts (1977)

A mad slasher is wreaking havoc in a small town and the investigation is slow-going with alcoholic Sheriff Peterson (Aldo Ray) on the job. The list of suspects keep growing and it seems like every attractive lady is in danger. One of the town’s most eligible bachelorettes, Ingrid (May Britt), only narrowly escapes becoming another victim herself. Things get worse when local bad-boy Frankie (William Gray Espy) takes a break from his shenanigans with the sheriff’s daughter to give Ingrid his unwanted attentions. The already unstable Ingrid begins to crack as more and more of her horrible past comes back to haunt her.

Herb Freed directs Haunts, a bizarre little piece of filmmaking from the wonderful 1970s. More than just a proto-slasher, the film seems influenced by Robert Altman’s Images and Polanski’s Repulsion but with a trashy small town twist. What caught my attention with Haunts is the amazing editing job here. There is excellent use of intercutting between the present day and Ingrid’s memories of her painful past. The score by Pino Donaggio (Dressed to Kill) is very good and helps to give the film a much needed emotional edge. A kitschy and flat synthesizer score would have not been as welcome here.

May Britt is a great looking actress and can physically convey the emotional rollercoaster that her character is going through but her odd delivery of dialogue is really off-putting. Her Swedish accent isn’t so thick that I can’t understand her. No, the problem lies in the emotionless way that she speaks. Even though Britt sounds like a dang robot, she still manages to hold her own in a fairly difficult role. The worst line in the movie is when someone explains that Ingrid’s accent is due to the fact that she was raised in a “European orphanage up the coast”.

The rest of the cast of Haunts keep it together including Aldo Ray as Sheriff Peterson, who is a total drunken mess. Aldo Ray is actually pretty good here, especially when Peterson finds out his daughter has been making whoopee with Frankie, the town screw-up. My favorite actress in the film is Susan Nohr as Nel, the brazen but loveable hussy who falls prey to the scissor-wielding killer. Every scene with her is a treat.

Of course, the wacky scenery-chewer himself, Cameron Mitchell (Blood and Black Lace, Minnesota Clay), is on board and he is as painfully cheesy as usual. Not that anyone could steal Mitchell’s crazy fire but he is just one of many small town wackos in this flick. For instance, William Gray Espy makes an awesome ne’er-do-well and plain old lascivious duder. And there’s always the shy and creepy new guy in town, Bill Spry, played efficiently by Robert Hippard.

Much like his 1981 slasher flick, Graduation Day, director Herb Freed’s Haunts is a near miss, an almost-classic with a lot of potential that never really hits its stride. There are some great ideas but they just aren’t executed all that well. For instance, the movie has two endings with a labored final denouement that will have you begging for mercy. When all is said and done, Haunts is a kooky but sleepy pre-Halloween slasher (with gratuitous goat-milking) that’s worth a look if you happen to stumble across a copy at the flea market.

“Go back to Baltimore, you dumb creep!”

Giallo a Venezia

Giallo a Venezia (1979)

A couple, Flavia (Leonora Fani) and Fabio (Gianni Dei), are found murdered by the shore. Strangely enough, Fabio was stabbed to death with a pair of scissors while Flavia was drowned nearby and then her body dragged out of the water. Police inspector DePaul (Jeff Blynn) begins to slowly piece the case together with the few suspects and clues that he can find. He uncovers that in life Fabio was a voracious sex addict whose tastes were becoming more and more extreme with Flavia being little more than a toy in his games. Suddenly, the killer goes on a violent and bloody rampage against people connected to the murdered couple and it’s up to DePaul and the Venice police to apprehend him before any more lives are taken.

From writer Aldo Serio (Watch Me When I Kill) and director Mario Landi (Patrick Still Lives) comes, Giallo a Venezia, a sleazy, slimy, and truly trashy late 70s Giallo. Heavy on sex but light on plot and logic, this is one dirty flick. Some decent twists help the lame plot limp along until it finally sprints full speed to the end. The gore effects are cheap but nasty enough to keep me from complaining too much. More depressing than scary, Giallo a Venezia is a mean-spirited and sordid little film if there ever was one. The bipolar soundtrack ranges between utterly inappropriate disco circus music over sex scenes to pitch perfect chilling horror string arrangements in the stalking scenes.

The gorgeous Leonora Fani (The House by the Edge of the Lake) plays one of the most heart-wrenching characters I’ve ever seen in a giallo. Flavia’s short life is quite tragic and it really shows just how effective Fani’s performance is when I felt twinges of grief once her story reached its conclusion. The sinister looking Gianni Dei (The Last Round, Patrick Still Lives) who plays her “man”, Fabio, is an equally good actor, able to portray the terrifying aspects of sexual addiction. These two actors’ scenes together are especially hard to watch as Fabio’s addiction becomes ever more sadistic which leads them both down a path which will lead to their eventual destruction. The wildly sexy Mariangela Giordano (Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror) is on hand to make things even steamier. Who or what is Jeff Blynn? Aside from being the worst detective in Venice, Inspector DePaul also eats eggs and sports a non-hetero disco mustache.

Giallo a Venezia? More like Porno a Venezia! So yeah, I guess that the sex scenes are meant to show Fabio and Flavia’s destructive relationship but under the leering eye of cinematographer Franco Villa (Malabimba: The Malicious Whore), things get pretty ridiculous after a while. The brutality of the murders makes up for their somewhat sketchy effects and their close proximity with the lengthy softcore scenes also gives them a creepy edge. Giallo a Venezia is a halfway decent Giallo that is saved by its gory violence, good acting (not from Jeff Blynn), beautiful actresses, a bizarre musical score, and a thick coating of Euro-sleaze. Prepare to feel dirty afterwards, I know I do.

Autopsy

Autopsy (1975)

Mimsy Farmer plays Simona, a student of pathology, who begins to suspect that a string of recent suicides (blamed on sunspots by the media) may, in fact, be homicides. Matters take a downturn for Simona when she begins experiencing grotesque hallucinations which puts a strain on her future career as a pathologist as well as her relationship with her boyfriend, Edgar (Ray Lovelock). After her father’s plucky mistress, Betty (Gaby Wagner), turns up dead of an apparent suicide, she is convinced there is some kind of conspiracy. Betty’s brother, Father Paul (Barry Primus), joins Simona in her search for a killer that might not even exist.

Armando Crispino (The Dead are Alive) directs this tense, hallucinatory, and unsettling giallo. The tension and dread boil over in Autopsy and the viewer gets the sense that death is everywhere. The film is profoundly trashy (with hints of necrophilia and other various perversions) but with yet another brilliant score by Ennio Morricone and precise cinematography by Carlo Carlini (Virgin Terror, Seven Deaths in the Cat’s Eye), Autopsy is raised above its willingness to wallow in the muck.

Barry Primus gives the viewer their money’s worth with his wild portrayal of the rageaholic and epileptic Father Paul. Ray Lovelock of Let Sleeping Corpses Lie and Murder Rock is very cool as Edgar, Simona’s very understanding (he has a porn slide collection) boyfriend. Keep an eye out for Ernesto Colli (Torso) as the bewilderingly creepy morgue attendant, Ivo. The film may run a little long but it’s worth it, even if just for the scene where Farmer finally snaps on this guy.

Of course, the star of the show, Mimsy Farmer, gives us another of her grand, yet flawed, performances. Farmer is truly is an acquired taste and her trademarks (her shrillness, that darn pouty look) can get annoying. However, it’s easy to forgive (and even grow fondness for) Farmer, the perpetually braless staple of so many great Italian horror flicks: The Perfume of the Lady in Black, Four Flies on Grey Velvet, and Lucio Fulci’s The Black Cat, just to name a few.

Autopsy’s disarming credit sequence of the sun, heat, sounds of crying, moaning, and screaming leads right into an excellent montage of suicides utilizing various means (drowning, razor blades, submachine gun, etc.). I would be lying if I said the film keeps up this intensity throughout but how could it without being an endless stream of people offing themselves? Instead, the opening grabs the viewer’s attention and prepares you (somewhat) for a 100 minute stretch of weirdness. Unfortunately for splatter enthusiasts, even the bountiful gore in the first third of the film takes a backseat to the oppressive mood of Autopsy.

Autopsy is a film that delivers its brooding theme of death, insanity, and mystery with change to spare, making it easy for recommendation to giallo fans. Sure, the killer may not be wearing black gloves this time around but the film has its share of priestly malfeasance and crazy twists to make it a solid entry in the genre. Hell, there’s even a rushed and confusing explanation behind the killer’s motive which should make fans of the yellow films feel right at home.

The Grapes of Death

The Grapes of Death (1978)

Marie-Georges Pascal plays Élisabeth, a young lady traveling by train to her village of Roubelais to see her fiancé. On the way there, her companion is murdered by a maniacal man with sores all over his face. Élisabeth jumps from the train far from her destination in order to escape. As she makes her way home, Élisabeth discovers that the countryside is populated by zombie-like people that try to murder her at every opportunity. She meets some damned souls along the way including a seemingly benevolent woman (Brigitte Lahaie) living in the mayor’s house. Two men unaffected by the zombie plague come to Élisabeth’s rescue and take her to Roubelais where she thinks they will be all safe. Unfortunately, the three of them discover the source of the evil resides in their destination.

Jean Rollin (The Living Dead Girl, Night of the Hunted) directs this incredible quasi-zombie feature. Grapes of Death is atmospheric, darkly moody, and very, very bloody. The film is put together with a great deal of care. All of the scenery is gorgeous, the lighting is excellent, and the editing is very tight. The pace is leisurely but never tiring and the ending only leaves you wanting more. The soundtrack is an interesting one, loaded with synthesizer oddness and fits the film perfectly. While not all of the gore is well done, there are some memorable moments in the splatter category. It’s difficult to criticize any film’s effects crew when there’s a severed head makeout scene. Obviously, their heart is in the right place.

Speaking of atmosphere, Grapes of Death lays it on as thick as molasses or pus from a zombie’s sore. The movie has a quiet intensity and is effectively creepy throughout. There are also some bitter ironies that give this film a cruelty that Rollin is so good at delivering (see The Living Dead Girl). The fate of the innocent and blind Lucy at the hands of her caregiver and lover is very twisted and very memorable. The plague in this film turns kind people into killers and even their own families aren’t safe from their need to kill. The zombies themselves seem subdued and appear to be sleepwalking until they set their sights on some human prey when they become murderous and bloodthirsty.

All of the actors in Grapes of Death take the proceedings very seriously and give very good performances. Marie-Georges Pascal is an excellent protagonist. Élisabeth is a strong character but not without the frailties of a human being thrust into a bizarre situation who believes that everything will be all right if she can just get home. It is a damn shame that Pascal didn’t do more horror movies during her short lifetime. Of course, the presence of the mind-bendingly sexy Brigitte Lahaie never hurt any film and the fact that she plays such a manipulative and monstrous character makes her presence even more pleasing.

Fans of Jean Rollin absolutely have to check out Grapes of Death, you won’t be disappointed. Zombie aficionados will be pleased as well due in part to this film’s similar feel to the superb Let Sleeping Corpses Lie. This film is loaded from beginning to end with horror and its tone is unrelentingly weird. There are enough gore sequences and oozing zombie sores (which looks like peanut butter and jelly) to please any gore-fiend. My only criticism is that the film’s emotional side may not click with all viewers. Oh, look, the French zombie is crying. Boohoo!

The Driller Killer

drillerkiller

The Driller Killer (1979)

Reno Miller (Abel Ferrara) is a sensitive artist trying to get by in New York City. No one around him, not even his girlfriend Carol (Carolyn Marz), knows that Reno is starting to lose his mind. Armed with a large drill and a portable battery (called a “Porto-Pack”), he heads out onto the seedy streets at night murdering homeless people. Things only get worse (yes, even worse) after his art dealer passes on buying Reno’s latest masterpiece and Carol leaves him for her estranged husband. Now, Reno is mad.

Smear on some white pancake makeup, throw back a fistful of uppers, and most importantly: “play this film loud”! Before directing his cult masterpiece, Ms. 45, director and actor Abel Ferrara made this nihilistic vomit-poem for his beloved New York City. The Driller Killer is a trash cinema classic with a big chip on its shoulder. Thanks to this film’s infamous censorship problems in England (making the Video Nasty list), most viewers are under-whelmed (to say the least) when they catch a glimpse of The Driller Killer.

The major problem with the film is pacing. It runs about 10 minutes too long with the seemingly endless rehearsal footage of Tony Coca Cola and The Roosters (the punk band that moves in next door to Reno). And I actually like the band (for some reason) but it’s just too much. However, the high body count, Reno’s hellish hallucinations, the bristling soundtrack, and the sheer delusional nature of the whole film more than make up for the slow pace.

This disgusting heap of a film fearlessly revels in its excesses with its exploitative footage of New York’s homeless (you guys all signed release forms, right?), a gratuitous lesbian shower scene, and even a pointless animal carcass dissection. But you know what? It couldn’t have happened any other way. Bloody, offensive, overlong, overrated, and sometimes even genuinely funny, I love The Driller Killer as much as it can be loved which is completely and not at all.

“No, no, no, no, this isn’t right. This is nothing! This is shit!”

The Legacy

legacy

The Legacy (1978)

Margaret Walsh (Katharine Ross) and her boyfriend Pete (Sam Elliott) run an interior design firm in San Francisco. They are invited to come to England to work on a project. Everything is very hush hush but the money is too good to refuse so they agree to the project. In jolly old England, they meet Jason Mountolive (John Standing) who invites them to stay at his mansion after they have a little motorcycle accident. Turns out he is this really ancient duder with some black magic powers and a coven of six people that Margaret is the newest member of. Suddenly, everyone starts dying in mysterious ways and yeah, that’s the plot.

This horror/romance(?) movie has the lavish sets but not the gothic feel. The tone is further hampered by its romance novel whimsy. Sam Elliott is great and all and a gratuitous butt shot never hurt any actor’s career, right? But he just seems completely out of place in every scene. I can’t say I’m all about the Katharine Ross (The Stepford Wives) either. The rest of the cast is pretty stellar with lots of familiar faces from British cinema. Charles Gray from The Rocky Horror Picture Show shows up, looks very suspicious, and speaks in that insanely cool voice of his before dying spectacularly. Roger Daltrey makes the most of his death scene by taking it to comic proportions.

The Legacy has been avoiding me and now I see why. However, 1970s horror is alive and well in this one as the ancient evil gets hip to the ‘Me Generation’. There are some great moments and a couple of cool death scenes but much of this film is pretty bland and impossible to take seriously (which is normally a good thing). British director Richard Marquand would go on to bigger and better things but it’s hard to believe this looked all that good on his resume.

In the hands of a Spanish or Italian director with less than half the budget, we could have had something really special here. My biggest complaint is that the few chilling moments show that with a little more care, The Legacy could have been something really special. The ending is definitely interesting and makes evil seem like it could be pretty fun if you just keep on smiling. And good luck getting past the wretched opening song. It’s a big old 70s sub-AM turd called “Another Side of Me” by Kiki Dee.

 

Exorcism

exorcism

Exorcism (1975)

After getting high at a black mass, Leila (Grace Mills) and her fiancé, Richard, get into a car accident. Afterwards, Leila begins to exhibit strange behavior and a change in personality. Her mother, Patricia, asks Father Adrian (Paul Naschy), to come and speak to Leila, who may only be reacting to her car accident or grieving over the recent passing of her father. Father Adrian has trouble getting Leila to speak to him and her overprotective brother, John, is no help either. When John turns up dead and Leila’s behavior begins to worsen, Father Adrian believes that she may be possessed by an evil spirit.

I have to confess that I have an inexplicable affinity for European clones of The Exorcist. For some reason these lighter versions of the film just strike a chord with me. My favorites are The Antichrist and the chilling (and delightfully cheesy) Beyond the Door. When I found out that Paul Naschy had written and starred in a Spanish exorcism flick, I just had to check it out.

Director Juan Bosch (The Killer with a Thousand Eyes) brings this awkward genre oddity to life. The film has a very atmospheric punch to it and an undeniably European feel. The rickety plot is a little off (a possessed dog and that confusing final shot) and oh man, those day-for-night filters. The original Exorcist is blatantly borrowed from but Exorcism has its own agenda. Both the attention-grabbing soundtrack and the swaying Satanists are just so dang wild.

Paul Naschy (Werewolf Shadow) is excellent in this film and his character is very well written. Father Adrian wants to help Leila and her family but his approach is very gentle and caring. He doesn’t want to impose his opinion on anyone unless he feels they really need help. And when it comes time to kick some paranormal ass, well, the man does what needs to be done.

Grace Mills does a fine job as Leila, a girl possessed by the spirit of her dead father (not the devil for a change). The dynamic role of Leila gives Mills a chance to go through a wide range of emotions and act her butt off underneath a ton of nasty friggin’ makeup which she pulls off superbly. The rest of the cast is decent but it’s really Naschy and Mills’s show.

While not a great film by any means, Exorcism is still holds a unique place in the Naschy canon. It gives the actor a chance to show that he could be subtle (and not turn into a werewolf) even when the film is not. Unfortunately, the plot feels pretty rushed and there are some details that need expanding. I think this would be a terrible starting point for folks interested in Naschy (try Horror Rises from the Tomb for that) but if you’re down with “Exorcist Lite” movies like I am, then give this one a spin.

“Demon from Hell, you’ll not deceive me. She is not guilty. It’s you, because you’re inside her.”

Sex of the Witch

sexofthewitch

Sex of the Witch (1973)

The Hilton family has just lost its patriarch and now the kids are fighting over the big inheritance. Someone has taken the initiative to kill the family off so that their chunk of the cash is bigger than everyone else’s. By using a set of Javanese fingernail covers (?), the killer has managed to harness the power to hypnotize people or something like that.

Why am I being punished? Oh yeah, I actually went looking for this junk. Just by the title alone, I knew that I was going to get screwed by Sex of the Witch (AKA Il sesso della strega) but I didn’t know just how screwed. The film is a supernatural giallo with a weak inheritance scheme disguised as a plot. Daniele Patucchi’s musical score is pretty with its warbling piano pieces and the castle scenery is nice. Unfortunately, there are very few locations, mostly dull lighting and only occasionally inspired cinematography; so the film gets very dull to look at very quickly. At a hippie party/concert, some colored filters are used to liven things up but the scene is so useless, it’s a wasted effort.

The cast is populated by some lovely ladies including Camille Keaton (Tragic Ceremony) and Marzia Damon (Evil Face), but the characters are so indistinct that it’s impossible to care about them or keep track of what’s going on. It almost seems as if there is footage missing or scenes are out of order. Sex of the Witch is just incompetent filmmaking at its most irritating but some very, very desperate viewers might get a kick out of some this flick’s sleazy weirdness.

Ugh, this supernatural giallo is exactly the trashy Eurotrash softcore crapfest that I thought it was going to be but just less interesting. Sure there are hilarious internal monologues, some bouts of pseudoscience and a dog named Twinky but this is just a mess. I’d call the film mildly diverting but that might be too generous. Sex of the Witch is just a baffling murder mystery with lots of sex and a little violence that is impossible to figure out, even if one wanted to. And trust me, no one is gonna want to. For an even more confusing yet actually entertaining giallo, check out In the Folds of the Flesh.

“If you read our entire family history, you’d arrest us all!”

The Shiver of the Vampires

shiverofthevampires

The Shiver of the Vampires (1971)

Newlyweds Antoine and Isle (Jean-Marie Durand and Sandra Julien) make their way to Isle’s cousins’ castle for a quick visit before continuing on their honeymoon in Italy. They discover from the townsfolk that her cousins have recently died and only their servants remain in the castle. When they arrive, Isle is seduced by Isolde the vampire (Dominique) while Antoine uncovers the fact that Isle’s cousins aren’t dead but are actually quite undead. In order to save his young wife, Antoine tries to flee with Isle but it may already be too late.

Jean Rollin’s fourth vampire film, The Shiver of the Vampires, is one hell of a blend of the arthouse with the grindhouse. The perfect gothic scenery and brazen lighting are matching only by the beauty of the actresses involved. I couldn’t help but be blown away by the lush and fluid cinematography. The man responsible, Jean-Jacques Renon, also provided the excellent cinematography on The Demoniacs. Fans of 70s films will no doubt be impressed by the soundtrack performed by progressive rock band, Acanthus. While other Rollin soundtracks are much moodier and eerie, Acanthus just rocks out through much of the film but they know when to deliver the softer, moodier moments.

Who the hell came up with Isolde’s (Dominique) three grand entrances and deadly boob spikes? A genius, that’s who. The wildly sexy Sandra Julien is mesmerizing in her role as the object of the vampires’ desire, Isle. In fact, the scene where Isolde seduces her is deliriously hot. From hot to hilarious, actors Michel Delahaye and Jacques Robiolles are extremely amusing as Isle’s cousins, the two pretentious ex-vampire hunters. They deliver what are essentially monologues split up between the two of them with great timing and even take bows when their performance is over.

Although it doesn’t make my list of favorite Rollin films (Grapes of Death, The Living Dead Girl, or The Demoniacs), Shiver of the Vampires is still a fascinating and enjoyable film. The film is pretty slow-moving so be prepared for that but it gets better with repeat viewing. Luckily, like much of the director’s other works, this film is visually stunning and the characters are completely off the wall. Horror fans unfamiliar with Rollin should prepare for surrealism, a dreamlike delivery, and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Clips of Shiver can be found on When Eurotrash Attacks Volume 1.