The Vampire and the Ballerina

The Vampire and the Ballerina (1960)

A rock and roll ballet troupe stays in the countryside in order to practice before their next gig. The nearby village lives in fear of a local vampire who inhabits a medieval castle nicknamed “the Castle of the Damned”. One of the dancers, Louisa (Helene Romy) gets bitten by the vampire and her friend Francesca (Tina Gloriani) tries to save her from becoming enslaved by the undead. If I go any further into this convoluted plot with its extraneous characters, we’ll be here for a couple of hours.

Equal parts early 1960s pop-kitsch and gothic horror, Renato Polselli’s The Vampire and the Ballerina is a wacky good time flick. Aside from its silliness, the biggest problem with this movie is the pacing. It drags towards the end but it’s worth sticking it out. Bad movie enthusiasts will no doubt be able to get a laugh out of the incredibly cheesy dialog and half-assed dance sequences. Fans of the Italian gothics will enjoy the beautiful scenery, moody cinematography and effective lighting. The soundtrack by Aldo Piga is nothing to get excited about as it seems just a tad old fashioned though the upbeat pieces for the dance numbers are decent enough.

While it is completely tame by today’s standards, this flick is quite the sexualized little vampire tale and things get pretty hot and heavy. The vampire’s bite causes a rapturous sexual frenzy in his (always female) victims. Ladies affected by fangy charms look like they’re about to cream their dang jeans (or leotards, in this case). To add to the naughtiness, all of the female characters in this movie show a lot of skin. There’s plenty of practically see-through nighties and low-cut gowns (don’t forget those leotards!) to keep you perverts out there satisfied (or thoroughly teased).

Polselli would go on to direct some real trash in the 70s like the idiotic giallo Delirium and the supernatural head scratcher The Reincarnation of Isabel. On a much more successful note, this is insanely prolific genre screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi’s first writing credit and I have to say this is pretty good, all things considered. The Vampire and the Ballerina is a humble, awkwardly plotted but fun beginning of a nearly 40 year screenwriting career. This man lent his talents to so many incredible films, that it is simply mind-boggling for an Italian film nut like me to even ponder.

The Vampire and the Ballerina is a lot of fun thanks to its hilarious badness but there is enough decent material stashed in the camp to make this a worthwhile Italian horror film. There is also strange twist to the vampire legend here (elaborated on below) and some weird, painfully obvious sexual overtones. I can’t say much good about the makeup though; the vampire looks like a crappy old lady with a skin condition. It just made me sad and I want to wish him luck. Good luck, buddy.

“Get back into your coffin; it is your coach to the land of the living dead!”

Maneater of Hydra

Maneater of Hydra (1967)

A group of tourists travel to an island to see its exotic botanicals. There they meet Baron von Weser (Cameron Mitchell), a reclusive scientist studying rare horticulture and experimenting with crossbreeding dangerous varieties of plants. One of the Baron’s creations is draining the blood of human beings (through a small hole in their cheek) and the tourists are dying one by one.

Mel Welles, the genius behind the inexplicably amazing Lady Frankenstein wrote this junky little number. The lame and predictable dialogue is goofily dubbed and the storyline is totally generic monster movie pseudoscientific hokum. The worst scene in the movie features all the characters shouting about who or what is to blame for the recent killings. Most importantly however, Maneater of Hydra has a beautiful mansion, an exotic locale and a windstorm that never seems to let up.

Our cast of characters is headed up by total spazzoid Cameron Mitchell (a man who inspires great love and hatred in me) of Blood and Black Lace and Minnesota Clay. Cora Robertson (Czechoslovakian actress Kai Fischer) is a hot bag of cleavage in heat. The lovely and sweet Beth is played by Elisa Montés who would show up in Jess Franco’s 99 Women. The most irritating character is the shrill and terrible Myrtle Callihan who shrieks and complains about everything. Trust me on this one: she should have been the first to die.

While Maneater of Hydra (AKA Island of the Doomed) is strictly non-essential viewing (thanks mostly to some dull bits), it’s still a good time for a very boring Sunday afternoon (or a Saturday with a head cold (which is how I viewed it)). The way the creature sucks blood from people is pretty disgusting and the animated opening titles are just splendid. Plus, the climax is quite outrageous and very bloody.

“I’m sorry but you were about to touch my giant… gardenias.”

Crypt of the Vampire (1964)

Young women are being drained of their blood and all signs point to the Karnstein family. Count Ludwig Karnstein (Christopher Lee) enlists the help of historian Friedrich Klauss (José Campos) to explore his lineage. Klauss finds out that one of Ludwig’s ancestors was executed for witchcraft but not before she placed a curse on the family line. Ludwig’s daughter Laura (Adriana Ambesi) believes that she is possessed by the witch and is developing a taste for the red stuff.

Annette (Véra Valmont), the count’s mistress, knows that something is wrong with Laura. She is also suspicious of Laura’s new friend, Annette (Ursula Davis), who arrived under mysterious circumstances and has been at Laura’s side ever since. The family’s maid, Rowena (Nela Conjiu), thinks she’s helping the Karnstein clan with her black magic rituals but people keep dying despite her appeals to the dark lord.

Camillo Mastrocinque (who directed Barbara Steele in An Angel for Satan) delivers an effective and enjoyable though not entirely original gothic horror film. The convoluted story from prolific genre screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi (The Whip and the Body) has its chilling moments and takes inspiration from the classic horror story Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu. The dialogue is predictable and hampered by the awkward dubbing. There is also some totally unnecessary narration which is abandoned very quickly (thanks). What Crypt of the Vampire does have going for it is good pacing and superbly eerie sets and locations.

Christopher Lee (who thankfully dubbed his own voice) is quite good in Crypt but that’s no surprise as the man rarely disappoints. I really, really liked Adriana Ambesi as Laura whose flimsy nightgown threatens to explode throughout the nighttime scenes. Her dumbass black magic schemes led by her scary maid are pretty amusing. How about next time we DON’T invoke the spirit of a witch to possess anyone, okay?

Véra Valmont, who plays Count Ludwig’s lover Annette, is very arresting. She goes all out with the terror faces and I wish that she had done more horror movies. José Campos is a little bland as Friedrich, the heroic (?) genealogist. Luckily, Lee is around to keep the appropriate levels of badass dude in a smoking jacket right where they need to be.

With its cheesy Sunday afternoon horror thrills (and some wild-eyed and voluptuous ladies), Crypt of the Vampire is a whole lot of fun. There’s melodrama, mysterious manuscripts and some gruesome business involving the severed hand of a hunchbacked beggar. This would make a terrific double feature with either Alberto De Martino’s The Blancheville Monster or the sleepy Barbara Steele vehicle: Terror Creatures from the Grave.

“I must kill you. That was my promise. I must kill you.”

Jigoku

Jigoku (1960)

[Some spoilers ahead.]

Shiro Shimizu (played by Shigeru Amachi) has got some real problems. While hanging out with his “friend” Tamura (Yoichi Numata) one night, he takes part in the hit and run of a gangster. This gangster’s mother (Kiyoko Tsuji) witnesses the crime and vows her revenge on both Tamura and Shiro (even though he wasn’t driving) with the aid of her son’s girlfriend Yoko (Akiko Ono). As if this weren’t bad enough, Shiro’s fiancée Yokiko (Utako Mitsuya) is killed in a taxi accident the night she was going to tell him something very important. While falling into Yoko and the gangster’s mom’s trap and shunned by his future in-laws, Shiro gets a letter from home that his mother is dying.

While his mother (played by Kimi Tokudaiji) lay dying in a cheap and corrupt rest home, Shiro’s father (Hiroshi Hayashi) is living in the next room with his mistress. Shiro meets Sachiko (Akiko Ono again), a girl who reminds him an awful lot of his dead fiancée and who he immediately has a crush on. She lives at the rest home with her drunken artist father who sells his paintings of hell to get by. Tamura shows up in town to cause more trouble for Shiro as does Yoko and the gangster’s mom. Someone serves some bad fish at the rest home’s tenth anniversary (plus there’s a bottle of poison sake going around) and next thing you know, pretty much every single character we’ve met up to this point goes straight to freakin’ hell.

But wait, there’s more! Now in hell, Shiro discovers some disturbing revelations about his family and is forced to face all of his earthly sins. Oh and Enma, the king of hell, is going to get his money’s worth torturing him for all eternity. In the underworld, Yoko reveals to Shiro that she was going to tell him she was pregnant the night she died and that their unborn child is trapped somewhere in hell. Our whiny miserable “hero” decides to get his shit together and go rescue their child so that she won’t suffer along with all the lost souls who totally deserve to be there. But will this young man’s will be enough to challenge the will of the king of hell? Wait, why is Sachiko in hell? She’s a nice girl? Oh man, why is there a river of pus and excrement? That’s just nasty! These questions and many more are answered in Jigoku!

What’s the most fun you could ever have going to hell? With legendary wacko director Nobuo Nakagawa’s 1960 film, Jigoku, you silly! The cacophonous and sensual opening credit sequence alone is enough to make this one of the strangest film about H-E-double hockey sticks. Jigoku is as much about the tortures of hell as it is about guilt and what spectacular failures human beings are. There’s also melodrama so overwrought and irony so ironic it’s almost too ironic for me to even be talking about it. Either way, I bet you haven’t seen anything quite like this before.

I’ve rarely enjoyed a movie that was this hard to sit through. Its two sections, the earthly plane and the world of hell, are both filled with agony and misery. The second half just has more screaming. The feeling of dread is excruciating as everything just keeps spinning out of control. Lives are wrecked and people just keep making stupid ass choices that land their butts on the griddle. The tortures awaiting them, though cheesily staged, are brutal. There’s a demon whose job it is to smash yer dang teeth in. Hey, it’s a living! The compositions by cinematographer Mamoru Morita are striking and the film’s wild score by the prolific Michiaki Watanbe is simply mind-blowing.

All of the actors are totally devoted to this piece of insanity. You know you’ve got an excellent cast when the viewer is willing to die and go to hell with them. And it takes a great actor to make an unpleasant character into a fascinating portrait and that is just what Shigeru Amachi does with Shiro. The funniest aspect of this character is how he is a magnet for women. Yukiko, Yoko, Sachiko, and even his father’s mistress, all go for this friggin’ guy.

However, for me, the shining star of Jigoku is Yoichi Numata (of Ringu). I think it was around the second time that Tamura materialized out of thin air that I realized this character had a little more up his sleeve than just a sleazy prankster. It is quite clear that this roguish gentleman is a catalyst for a sin, a mad soul from hell on an unholy mission, a total dickweed trying to make everyone suffer as much as he, etc. Numata’s performance is wildly over-the-top, spastic, and totally perfect.

Is Jigoku a classic film? Oh yeah. Is it also shrill as hell (really, duder, like “hell”?) and a little (read as: a lot) exasperating during some of its running time? Mm-hm. It’s a fairly obvious art movie that is trying to hide behind its tawdry tapestry of misery and horror. I urge you to watch this film as soon as you can but I must warn you: You will go to hell and your screams of perpetual torment will go unnoticed in the chaotic din of eternity. Bring your friends! Jigoku is a great date movie as well. But you’re not getting laid after it’s over.

Matango

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Matango (1963)

On a sailing excursion, a mixed group of disenchanted socialites and working class sailors get caught in a storm. With their communication and navigation equipment destroyed, the group drift for days until they come upon a seemingly uninhabited island. While searching for food on the island, they discover an abandoned ship run ashore on the other side of the island.

Inside the moldy vessel loaded with radiation research equipment, a captain’s log records the crew losing their sanity over the lack of food. The log also warns against eating the matango mushrooms that grow on the island because they cause insanity. While the group struggles to find food and repair the sailboat to escape the island (especially after some ghostly apparitions appear one night), some become too hungry and consume the mushrooms despite the warnings. Before long, symptoms far worse than insanity begin to plague the matango eaters and the remaining crew must fend themselves against unimaginable horrors.

This has got to be the strangest motion picture from Toho Films in the 1960s (aside from Frankenstein Conquers the World). Ishiro Honda, director of the original Godzilla and many other Kaiju (giant monster) films, brings the wild and weird Matango (AKA Attack of the Mushroom People AKA Fungus of Terror) to life. With sumptuous cinematography and a genuinely tense and creepy atmosphere, this is definitely not your average mushroom-horror film.

Another lavish part of the film are the sets and the locations. The magnificent tropical island blends seamlessly with the dank jungle where the matango thrive. The abandoned ship which the castaways use as their home on the mysterious island is very detailed and creates many opportunities for spooky moments, none of which are missed. The costuming and the makeup on the mushroom creatures as well as the humans in the process of turning into giant mushrooms are both top notch.

The cast is awesome and expertly conveys the growing tension aboard the claustrophobic quarters they find themselves as well as their terror as they begin to realize something is terribly wrong on the island. It’s hard to imagine a cast looking at the script for Matango and not jumping ship (literally). From the gratuitous musical number(s), overtones of sexual repression, hallucinogenic mushroom use, and seven and half foot laughing phallic symbols, these folks had their work cut out for them.

Matango is custom made for fans of creepy horror films or just plain freaky Japanese cinema. With themes of urban decay and the loss of innocence poured into its already intoxicating concoction, this film is impossible to ignore and will no doubt be showing up time and again on the shelves of J-horror and Toho buffs. I implore you. Please, do not eat the mushrooms.

The Long Hair of Death

longhairofdeath

The Long Hair of Death (1964)

As noblemen, Count Humboldt and his son Kurt Humboldt (played by George Ardisson), burn a witch at the stake, she places a curse upon them. The witch’s daughter, Helen Karnstein (Barbara Steele), vows to make sure that curse is carried out but she is soon put to death. Her younger sister, Elizabeth (Halina Zalewska), survives and years later, is forced to marry Kurt Humboldt. One night, during a thunderstorm, Helen Karnstein’s grave is struck by lightning and a mysterious woman named Mary (also Barbara Steele) appears at the castle. Kurt is immediately smitten with Mary and takes her as a mistress not suspecting that she might have a little something to do with a certain curse that was placed upon him.

Director Antonio Margheriti, the man responsible for Castle of Blood, Seven Deaths in the Cat’s Eye, and Cannibal Apocalypse, brings us this gothic chiller. The plot isn’t anything spectacular and the dialogue is pretty standard. However, the ending ties everything together very nicely and the film’s atmosphere is pregnant with dread. Ah, I’ve always wanted to say that. I love the music score though it is pretty generic. Composer Carlo Rustichelli hits all the right cues with either the scary strings or the eerie organ. There’s also a bounty of excellent castle locations and detailed gothic sets which add to the creepy mood.

This film features more of that wonderful Italian cinematography that drives me absolutely bonkers (in a good way). The amazing Riccardo Pallottini (The Killer Must Kill Again, Massacre Time) lensed this one and I am astounded by his ability to create such stark compositions in black and white. The scene where Kurt Humboldt walks through the town square towards Elizabeth’s tomb is brilliantly framed and almost dizzyingly detailed. It reminds me of some of Joe D’Amato’s camerawork in Death Smiled at Murder.

Two lovely ladies, Barbara Steele and Halina Zalewska, lead the charge in this Italian goth-assault. As usual, Steele’s presence steels the show but Halina Zalewska is certainly no slouch. It’s a shame that Zalewska did little more than supporting roles for the rest of her career. When Steele, as Helen Karnstein, visits the spot where her mother was burned alive and raises a fistful of her ashes to the sky…Oh, I get chills. Then you got scenery-chomper, George Ardisson (Django Defies Sartana). Oh man, this guy is intense.

The Long Hair of Death has one major problem: it draaaaaaags in its middle section. A plague that strikes the kingdom and the machinations of the noblemen will stretch any attention span to the breaking point. The fine pacing of the first 40 minutes hits this lull and it takes a little while before the film’s climax lifts us out of the muck. On the plus side, keep an eye out for the really nasty looking corpse (shown in odious detail) and the not-so-subtly implied necrophilia. Aw yeah! Barbara Steele fans, if you enjoyed The Faceless Monster, The Ghost, or Terror Creatures from the Grave, you’ll dig on this one.

“She’s the cause of all our trouble. I curse the shrew that brought her into this castle of hell.”

The Rape of the Vampire

rapeofthevampire

The Rape of the Vampire (1968)

A group of women who believe they are vampires are living in an old house on the outskirts of a small village. Three young people show up in order to prove to the ignorant villagers that these women are not vampires at all and their fears are unfounded. But things go very wrong when they actually turn out to be vampires and a bloody altercation with the villagers occurs. The queen of the vampires shows up and resurrects the slain vampires and attempts to have them join her fanged army bent on world domination.

The Rape of the Vampire is the first feature length film from Jean Rollin (The Demoniacs, Lips of Blood) and it isn’t exactly light viewing. My first encounter with this film was a total disaster and I barely managed to watch the entire thing. The fact that the film was originally a short film with the second half blatantly tacked on afterwards to make its feature length didn’t help matters much. Now that I have given many of the director’s other films a chance, coming back to The Rape of the Vampire was a much more pleasant, though somewhat problematic experience.

The first thing I noticed was the camerawork. It’s kind of shaky and clumsy at times but always hungry for beauty and able to capture the minutest details. The black and white compositions are simply breathtaking. After I got over drooling over the visual elements, the music tugged at my ear. The film’s score is a combination of free jazz, library music, and doomsayer organ pieces that perfectly accentuate this moody film.

While the film looses steam in the second half, it is hard for me to really slam it. This is an independent art horror film from the late 60s, what the hell was I expecting? Oh yeah, and it’s from France! The seams really start to show during some of the film’s violent moments as the actors come off as clunky and un-choreographed. There are a couple of fencing and sword fighting scenes that are pretty embarrassing to watch. How seriously all of this is meant to be taken is anybody’s guess. I found a lot of comedy hidden in here that takes some of the edge off all the pretension.

I’m glad I returned to this Rollin film after having such a negative reaction to it the first time around. I still get antsy during the second half but the poetic ending saves the day. If you’re a horror fan curious about getting into Jean Rollin then this is absolutely the last film you should start with. For that, try my favorites The Grapes of Death or The Living Dead Girl. If you’ve got a thing for artsy vampire films that emphasize mood and revel in experimentation then you’ll pretty much flip the fuck out for The Rape of the Vampire.

“Crazy people always have a nasty effect on me.”

Crypt of the Vampire

cryptofthevampire

Crypt of the Vampire (1964)

With its cheesy Sunday afternoon horror thrills (and some wild-eyed and voluptuous ladies), Crypt of the Vampire is a whole lot of fun. There’s melodrama, mysterious manuscripts, and some gruesome business involving the severed hand of a hunchbacked beggar. This would make a terrific double feature with either Alberto De Martino’s The Blancheville Monster or the sleepy Barbara Steele vehicle: Terror Creatures from the Grave.