Sleaze

Mad Ron’s Prevues from Hell

Mad Ron’s Prevues from Hell (1987)

Two zombies walk into a movie theater- stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Hey gang, Mad Ron (Ron Roccia) is chained to the projector and is playing all of his favorite horror trailers! So sit back and enjoy the show. Our hosts Nick Pawlow and his zombie pal Happy Goldsplatt, are here with some ghastly jokes and ghoulish quips -uh oh- what’s that? It seems like those two zombies brought along their undead pals and things are getting out of control. Um, maybe you shouldn’t sit back too far, the ghouls in the back row aren’t content with their bloody popcorn anymore.

This movie makes me so angry! Where the hell was Mad Ron’s Prevues from Hell when I needed it the most? I was 11 years old when this hit VHS and I realize that missing out on it stunted my horror growth. This compilation of trailers with its cheesy hosts and gory goofiness plus my steady diet of junk food and thrash metal could have made me into a horror man instead of the horror boy that I am today.

The collection of trailers here are perfect for a sleazy good time. Selections like the standard Texas Chainsaw Massacre are here alongside the more obscure picks like (the “stomach shocker of your life”) The Ghastly Ones, The Diabolical Doctor Z, and Mad Doctor of Blood Island. Of course, Lady Frankenstein is here which is always good for a devious grin and oh man, the trailer for Love Me Deadly is a dang riot. Also, the trailer for the double feature, I Drink Your Blood/I Eat Your Skin, is here and it is simply perfect.

The only thing that got on my nerves are the inclusion of Man from Deep River featuring real animal violence and Africa – Blood and Guts which features real human and animal violence. I know a lot of horror folks don’t bat an eyelash at these things but I personally count them as a detraction from the entertainment value of Prevues from Hell. Who is a wet blanket? Me!

So if you like your trailers wet and sloppy, then check this out. The interruptions from the hosts are pretty amusing (in a kitschy eye-rolling, ironic knee-slapping kind of way) and they come bearing gifts: dozens of classic trailers, gory setpieces, and goofy zombie antics. Mad Ron’s Prevues from Hell is a perfect party favor when you have some fiends over with short attention spans and a lust for trash.

The Devil Within Her (1975)

Ex-stripper Lucy Carlesi (played by Joan Collins) has just given birth to a healthy baby boy named Nicholas. The newborn has incredible strength and is prone to violence causing Lucy to believe the child is possessed, possibly by Satan himself. Of course, no one (including her husband, Gino (Ralph Bates)) believes her but what they don’t know is that Hercules, a dwarf (George Claydon) from her strip club days, placed a curse on Lucy’s firstborn child because she wouldn’t return his affections. Despite his best efforts, Dr. Finch (Donald Pleasence) cannot determine what is causing the child to exhibit such horrible behavior. As mysterious “accidents” continue to happen to those taking care of Nicholas, Lucy’s sister-in-law, Sister Albana (Eileen Atkins), believes that the child’s problems are more than just scientific.

Peter Sasdy, director of Hammer entries such as Taste the Blood of Dracula and Hands Of the Ripper, brings this transcendentally trashy Joan Collins vehicle to the screen. Even though The Devil Within Her is a tasteless The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby-inspired romp, the talent behind the cinematography, lighting, and editing are all competent. Veteran film and TV composer, Ron Grainer (The Omega Man), provides the excellently surf/prog/pop score that seems to have been written for an entirely different movie. So that leaves us with plot. Oh doctor! The plot is unbelievably insipid as evidenced by the gratuitous sex scene between Bates and Collins (character development!). The life-draining script crashes and burns so often that even the actors actually look stunned reciting it.

It really shows the dedication of the cast to put up with all this crap. The faith vs. science debate between Dr. Finch and Sister Albana is quite inspired considering the horrible dialogue. As usual, Donald Pleasence can deliver anything with unshakable sincerity. Even Eileen Atkins (Equus, Cold Comfort Farm) is able to lend her incredible talent to this drivel. I recommend putting this entire scene on mute and imagining something inspiring.

It’s hard to get around Ralph Bates’ (Lust for a Vampire) awkward pseudo-Italian accent to tell if he’s actually giving a good performance here. I wanted to see more of Caroline Munro (Maniac) as Lucy’s stripper buddy, Mandy, but there wasn’t much for her character to do. John Steiner (Tenebre, Shock) is also present as the vile Tommy, Lucy’s ex-lover whose bloody nose at the baby’s hands is well deserved.

And then there’s Joan Collins. First of all, one doesn’t merely watch a Joan Collins film, one experiences it! The Devil Within Her is Collins’ last foray into the horror genre and what a shame (that’s not sarcasm)! Her awe inspiring ultra-melodramatics are quite comical during the narration of Lucy’s flashbacks and her expressions of terror steamroll across the screen.

And finally, the most misused and abused actor in the film (besides the uncredited baby playing Nicholas) is George Claydon as Hercules. The exploitative nature of his role is propelled into the stratosphere when (through painful jump-cuts) Hercules takes the place of Nicholas in the crib wearing baby clothes. Other than being an evil little person there’s absolutely nothing to his character at all. And when Hercules cops a feel on Lucy, how does she react? With revulsion!

The Devil Within Her (AKA I Don’t Want to Be Born or even better It’s Growing Inside Her) is an extremely derivative and unintentionally hilarious anti-masterpiece. The sleaze factor is quite high in this movie. There’s attack-baby violence, dejected strippers, and a lecherous curse-spewing dwarf all for your entertainment. I highly recommend this beastly and warped little film but only because of its mega-campy merits. The Devil Within Her is quality entertainment and is painful fun tailor made for anyone with twisted ideas of what constitutes a good time in front of the TV. I love every minute of it.

“I’ve got to find someone like Gino before I bump and grind myself to death.”

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.

Faceless

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Faceless (1987)

Helmut Berger plays Dr. Frank Flamand, a plastic surgeon who will go to any lengths to help repair the scarred face of his sister, Ingrid. He is drugging and kidnapping women to find the perfect candidate for a facial transplant. His assistant, Nathalie (the stunning Brigitte Lahaie), and his henchman, Gordon, are willing to do anything to assist the good doctor in his scheme. When they kidnap an American fashion model named Barbara (played by Caroline Munro), her father (Savalas) hires a private eye named Sam (Mitchum) to find her. Dr. Frank manages to track down a Nazi doctor who is more than happy to perform the potentially deadly operation. Can detective Sam find Barbara and rescue her before she loses her face?

Wow, what an evil creature this is. Faceless is a sadistic tribute (Tribute? Remake? Parody? Whatever!) to Georges Franju’s Eyes Without A Face. It’s difficult to compare this gorefest with Franco’s earlier works. Clearly, he was trying to tap into the splatter trend of horror flicks of the 80s and I’m sure glad he did. Franco fills this wacky flick with cornball pop music, ludicrous characters, and opportunities for softcore lovin’ wherever he can.

The worst part about this movie, without a doubt, is Christopher Mitchum. He is the hammiest ham that ever hammed a ham and I can’t figure out how he got involved in the project. The part of Sam Morgan, private eye seems to have been written for a much older actor and Mitchum never even comes close to fitting the bill. The only scene where he seems at home is when he gets into a fistfight with the stereotypically gay fashion photographer’s muscle-bound bodyguard.

The kitschy quality of Faceless may put off some viewers. For instance, the cornball pop music that is interspersed throughout the film should produce mild hysterics or nausea. Luckily for Franco, the horrifying elements of the film are truly horrifying. Most of the special effects are very well done; although there is a certain rotting severed head that could have used a little more work. Dang, it looked good when it came off but now I’m not sure. Well, just throw some maggots on it. Perfect!

If you’re looking to get into the films of Jess Franco, then please choose another gateway such as Vampyros Lesbos or The Diabolical Doctor Z. Faceless is not very much like his other films although it has some traces of his style. Don’t expect a classic here but get ready to enjoy some nice Euro-cheese with several gory moments that you won’t soon forget. Plus anything with Brigitte Lahaie (Grapes Of Death) is worth watching. Right?

A Yakuza in Love

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A Yakuza in Love (1997)

Eiji Okuda stars as the hapless yakuza, Kinichi, who falls in love with Yoko (Yuna Natsuo), the waitress. Their twisted relationship is just getting started as his boss dies and Kinichi completely screws up an attempt at assassinating rival boss, Uzaki (Shohei Hino). Soon, Kinichi and Yoko flee to Osaka where they begin dealing drugs to get by. As enemy yakuza begin to close in the pair and Kinichi becomes more dependent on drugs, their situation worsens and threatens to explode at any moment.

Rokuro Mochizuki (Onibi, Another Lonely Hitman) directs A Yakuza In Love, one of the most twisted and painful love stories ever filmed. The film is visually stunning which balances out the sexy, funny, and brutal moments that take place. The main characters, which dominate the film, are complicated and vividly realized. No one is easy to like here but they are all fascinating.

Eiji Okuda’s portrayal of Kinichi is incredible. Viewers will be hard pressed to find a yakuza more despicable or lovable than the lazy, stubborn, and sleazy Kinichi. He’s an abusive boyfriend, a junkie, and a date-rapist but for some reason he’s an enthralling (and pretty repugnant) character. Most viewers will probably be put off by Kinichi’s mistreatment of Yoko and will be mystified why she stays with him.

Yoko is brought to life by Yuna Natsuo (Wild Life) and is a very complex individual. Her inexperience in love leads her to make some serious mistakes with Kinichi but her surprising devotion to him reveals that she is a very strong person. Shohei Hino (Gozu, Mobster’s Confession) is great as boss Uzaki, a truly frightening character (even with his prosthetic ear).

A Yakuza In Love in not an easy pill to swallow. This is an emotionally draining film. It has many ups, downs, in-betweens, and it gets dark as most viewers familiar with yakuza films will see coming. The film has a realistic portrayal of drugs and the effects it has on people’s judgment; especially people that weren’t that bright to begin with. Rokuro Mochizuki is a fine director and A Yakuza In Love is a prime example of that.

 

Killer Nun

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Killer Nun (1979)

After her recent brain surgery, Sister Gertrude (Anita Ekberg) is having some trouble readjusting to her life as a nun serving in a geriatric hospital. It seems that the surgery has left her with terrible headaches, a wicked addiction to morphine, and a propensity for casual sexual encounters in the city. When patients start turning up dead and Sister Gertrude’s behavior becomes even more erratic, the staff and surviving patients begin to suspect the worst. With only the unrequited love of Sister Mathieu (Paola Morra) to protect her from herself, Sister Gertrude’s life begins to spin completely out of control. But is she really capable of murder?

Hey there, Sister Gertrude! Why do all the boys pass you by? Is it because you’re a track mark-laden nymphomaniacal Killer Nun!?! What the damn hell did I just watch? As entertaining (for me) as it is mystifying (for everyone else), it’s not surprising that this film has had a hell of a time finding an audience that can appreciate its… um… specialness. Truly a love-hate experience, Killer Nun comes from co-writer/director Giulio Berruti (editor of Corrado Farina’s Baba Yaga) who never directed another feature film. Go figure.

The plot is a coin toss of scenes thrown together with an ultra-thin mystery going on in the background. That’s not to say that Killer Nun isn’t smarter than it looks. Not when there is some seriously twisted religious imagery mixed into all that sweet exploitation to be found here. Killer Nun has a thoroughly strange film score comes from Alessandro Alessandroni, composer for films such as The Devil’s Nightmare and Any Gun Can Play.

Anita Ekberg (Death Knocks Twice, French Sex Murders) friggin’ rocks as Sister Gertrude, a woman torn between her religious conviction, her morphine habit, and her insatiable sexual desires. A highlight in Killer Nun is the dizzyingly hot Paola Morra as Sister Mathieu. I may never, ever stop drooling. The excellent Massimo Serato (Autopsy, The Bloodstained Shadow) doesn’t get nearly enough to do here as Dr. Poirret, a man whose career is going completely to pot as the hospital seems to be self-destructing around him. And yes, that’s Joe Dallesandro of Blood For Dracula in one of his greatest appearances due to fact that he’s been dubbed by another actor! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for Alida Galli (Suspiria, Lisa and the Devil) as Mother Superior, who is more annoyed than concerned with Sister Gertrude’s problems.

Killer Nun is a cursed beast trapped somewhere between giallo and nunsploitation and will likely annoy fans of both. The film’s positives barely outweigh its negatives; yet, in some strange way, Killer Nun thoroughly entertained me. Although bloodshed is relatively low, the brutality of the murders is impressive and the seediness of the sex scenes will ultimately impress the rogues’ gallery. Not to mention the bizarre moments of cruelty such as kicking a crippled man to death and stomping an old woman’s dentures to pieces in front of her. Good times! Folks who dig blasphemous Italian garbage should check this one out but please, whatever you do, don’t expect a Eurotrash classic.

“I need more… Morphine!”

Emanuelle’s Revenge

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Emanuelle’s Revenge (1975)

Carlo (George Eastman) is a scumbag actor who is using his girlfriend Françoise (Patrizia Gori) like a prostitute. He uses her body to pay off gambling debts and to get parts in films until he gets bored and dumps her. Françoise is heartbroken and throws herself in front of a train. When her sister, Emanuelle (Rosemarie Lindt), finds out, she seduces Carlo and then kidnaps him. Instead of killing him, Emanuelle forces him to watch her bizarre sex games. Carlo thinks this is his fate, to watch forever until thirst (or horniness) gets the best of him. That is until Emanuelle reveals the final and most demented part of her plan of vengeance.

We enter the twisted world of director/cinematographer Joe D’Amato (Anthropophagus) once again to find that he has double-dipped us into sleazy sauce with Emanuelle’s Revenge. Psychosexual torture, anyone? As usual, D’Amato’s camerawork is sumptuous and the almost blindingly bright lighting is near perfect. While the plot is pretty clunky and painfully simple, this film still manages to entertain. And thankfully, it takes a detour into horror with a sweet hallucinatory sequence full of blood, violence, and cannibalism. Thank you, Joe.

The not-so-gentle giant, George Eastman (Rabid Dogs, Baba Yaga), plays another piece of shit frighteningly well. I really love Rosemarie Lindt’s performance as Emanuelle. Lindt manages to portray a woman whose mission of vengeance is wearing her down and is making her careless. Did someone say depressing? Wow, Patrizia Gori is fantastic as the doomed Françoise. While it is impossible to feel too much pity for someone who is throwing their life away (literally) for a destructive relationship, I couldn’t help but feel twinges of pain for her. That’s right, this softcore trash made me a little misty. What of it?

I must say that when a movie makes you feel this dirty, it has to be good. While nowhere near my favorite of Joe D’Amato’s efforts (try Death Smiled at Murder instead), Emanuelle’s Revenge definitely has its plusses. Like any Euro-sleaze worth its salt, this film has the required amount of J&B, cool cars, a brazenly funky film score, scuzzy sex scenes, and even a cameo by Italian genre cinema regular (and my hero), Luciano Rossi. As far as erotic thrillers go, you could certainly do worse.