Saturday 3 February 2024

The Midnight Hour

It’s Halloween in Pitchford Cove, high school youngsters are arranging a huge party at an old house to celebrate. After a class presentation by Phil (Lee Montgomery) about the history of Halloween in relation to the town itself, a small team of students decide to authenticate their fancy dress costumes by breaking into the witchcraft museum and stealing (sorry, borrowing) some genuine 19th century outfits as worn by various occupiers of the period, including a witch who was burned at the stake as she passed curse upon the place (natch). Stopping off at the nearby cemetery they have the cool idea of reading out an old parchment that they found with the costumes - an incantation for raising the dead. Laughing of their antics they leave the cemetery to prepare for the evening's party, unaware that their little joke has actually worked and bodies are returning to life along with the awakening of various other demonic entities such as werewolves and vampires. Later at the party geeky Phil finds himself unable to attract the attentions of the girl of his dreams (she’s more interested in the football-playing beefcakes) and decides to head off home, not realising that the recently disturbed dead are invading the party and causing havoc throughout the town. On his way back he runs into Sandy, a girl he met earlier who also happens to have died thirty years previous (but passable as a living person due to a distinct lack of rotting flesh and, presumably, associated odour). Together they become aware that the town is undergoing a chaotic transformation as the dead turn the living into lifeless homicidal shells - Phil and Sandy have to find a way of restoring peace to Pitchford Cove as they rapidly become a minority in a town that’s filling up with ghouls.

The fact that The Midnight Hour was made for television (back in 1985) is somewhat betrayed through a noticeable lack of gore, violence, and sex, but I’m not one to let those deficiencies hold back my enjoyment of a film - after all, there’s still atmosphere and scares to be had, right? Well, maybe not here. It opens with a nice little set-up as we see the residents of the Cove preparing for Halloween celebrations, going to school, arguing about theft, etc. One of the main problems is the undead creatures - they’re a bit of a joke and are treated as such by the film-makers. The make-up is actually very good while being overly emphasised in a Buffy-type sense and therefore not particularly unnerving. It’s not helped by having actors who think they’re comedians playing some of the parts and one corpse especially gets on my nerves with his clumsy antics. There’s also a hopeless werewolf whose attacks on mortals are oddly impotent, lacking tension in the process. Lee Montgomery was never a very ballsy actor but he’s a reasonably likeable dude and does the job. His newfound love interest, Sandy, is played by Rosanna Arquette lookalike Jonna Lee, someone who worked mainly in TV before disappearing off the scene in the early nineties. Shame because she’s both attractive and competent here.

The teenage behavioural tendencies are typical of the period and may provide some nostalgic fun for those of us who were there, but on occasions they can induce minor cringes. The film takes something of a bizarre turn when, without explanation or precedence the entire undead cast of the house go into a Thriller-style song and dance number that lasts about five minutes - I’m not kidding: this has to be seen to be believed. It may have been fun to shoot but it’s a touch embarrassing to watch. There are one or two things going for Midnight Hour, however. Firstly, it makes great use of fifties/sixties music like The Midnight Hour (obviously), Bad Moon Rising (slightly blasphemous as that track belongs to American Werewolf... as far as I’m concerned!), and Sea of Love (by Del Shannon). In addition, a particular standout sequence has Phil and Sandy cruising through the town as it crawls with the walking dead, later becoming pursued by hordes as they go back to the house to retrieve certain things they’ll need to restore order. The conclusion of the film, though, is a little on the sloppy side. One rather surprising point to note: the competent but pedestrian direction is by Jack Bender, someone who since went on to enthral us with many of the episodes from Lost.

The taped recording I have was taken from a satellite broadcast back in the early nineties and maintains a surprisingly colourful, sharp (for the medium) 1.33:1 image. I don’t think this ever received a sell-through release in the UK, disc or cassette, but Anchor Bay put out a barebones DVD on Region 1 aeons ago (the film itself was granted with a decent transfer); that disc can be difficult to find nowadays and for reasons unknown the film remains unfortunately MIA on physical media (this may be down to music rights or perhaps Disney ownership). The Midnight Hour is light, reasonably fun entertainment, despite the occasional foray into embarrassing territory, plus there is that slightly eerie segment of the last act to consider.  It's a professional 35mm production - better than you'd expect for TV - which would have benefitted from an injection of adult content.

Saturday 6 January 2024

Horror Rises from The Tomb

I first came across the Spanish 1973 film, Horror Rises from The Tomb, as an n’th generation VHS cassette in the 90s and after a couple of viewings pretty much consigned it to the backend of my video shelf, though I suppose opinion is never helped when something is cut, cropped and looking more questionable than government manifestos.  So the digital age arrived, matured, and in 2007 BCI/Deimos released a significantly improved version of a film that I had condemned to being crap, but behold, it received a few good reviews prompting a personal re-evaluation…  So, decades on from its production, how does Carlos Aured's El Espanto Surge De La Tumba hold up? Hugo, Maurice and girlfriends are chatting away one evening when the subject of a respected medium arises and they decide to go visit the woman, for a bit of a joke in the case of Hugo in particular. Knowing about the legend of a medieval sorcerer, Hugo’s ancestor Alaric, who was killed for his sins centuries before (which we get to see in the prologue), Hugo facetiously asks the medium at the séance to call forth Alaric's spirit, which of course she appears to do. The maligned ancient spirit reveals where his severed head and body are buried hoping that the reintegration of them will restore him to physical life, released from the netherworld which he is forced to wander in ethereal limbo. Hugo decides to take his friends on a mission to do just this, all of them heading up the mountains to a decrepit castle where they get the servants (!) to dig up half of the castle grounds looking for the separated body parts.  Of course, once the inherently hostile Alaric is recomposed by a hypnotised/possessed Maurice, along with his lover (a never-sexier Helga Liné) who simultaneously faced the inquisition centuries ago, Hugo and his friends are confronted with all manner of evil occurrences which they find themselves unable to control or escape from.

This is not necessarily superior film-making if perceived from a conventional perspective; Spanish horror exists in a universe of its own, much like the Italian equivalent but different again.  Despite a tendency towards talkiness, there are classics hiding beneath dirty stones for those willing to rummage, notably Satan’s Blood and The Vampire’s Night Orgy for example. Jacinto Molina (AKA Paul Naschy) was sort of the king of Spanish horror if ever there was one but his films were often variable in quality, while his acting ability sometimes limited - put it this way, he‘s no Peter Cushing. In spite of this, his perennial passion for this kind of material shines brightly, almost compensating for any shortcomings, alongside the fact that he wasn’t afraid to throw in copious amounts of gore and nudity to shock or titillate where relevant. Though his work is hardly the epitome of originality, usually being a strange concoction of other people’s ideas (probably a side effect of writing films like El Espanto... in two days), it's as if he imagined how a Universal monster movie might have appeared had the studio injected it with visible bloodshed and female flesh, then making something that approximated that ideology. Sometimes he was egocentric (often playing principal dual roles, one good and one evil as he does here) and manifested his fantasies on screen (he brushes off beautiful women or takes them as he pleases), but he was a likeable fella who contributed much to exploitation cinema and remains loved by many for both his persona and work. His usual formula is adopted for El Espanto…, taking elements of witchcraft, vampirism, reincarnation, zombies (the latter resulting in the film’s best, if brief, sequence) and grinding them together to produce a world where almost anything goes, however it’s as schizophrenic as this may sound.

Hugo (Naschy) is, when it comes to the supernatural, a stereotype non-believer who is about to have his fixed perspective twisted way out of shape as the rebirth of his ancestor brings about doom to everything around him. One particular aspect of this film I really like is the setting: driving off into the mountains they’re pretty much isolated from the rest of mankind and almost seem to have entered another sinister dimension where they become incarcerated. Their car is hijacked and ruined during the trip and they’re forced to buy an old banger from some locals which looks more like a hearse - Hugo manages to see the bright side of this incident! From there they realise that they’re trapped in/around the castle with limited rations and a growing threat to their lives as terrible things begin happening around them.  Hugo is himself the catalyst for all of this, first as he insists on summoning forth his ancestor at the séance, then when he drags his friends on a weekend adventure that will only lead to devastation, though considering Maurice seems to be bowing to the influence of demonic infiltration himself even before the trip, perhaps it isn’t entirely Hugo’s fault after all: Alaric may be exerting influence beyond the grave or maybe it’s simply uncontrollable fate at work. Referring to the previous comment about female flesh, there are some incredibly beautiful women omnipresent in this movie and this is part of the appeal I’m not remotely ashamed to say! Clothed scenes were filmed for less tolerant markets (included as an extra on the BCI/Deimos disc) and are comparatively boring once you’ve seen the ‘proper’ (export) version, the main presentation of the disc. Leading up to a fantastically downbeat climax El Espanto… thrives on its own rules and is consequently very enjoyable.

Several releases on DVD existed, primarily in the US: Brentwood once put out one of their typically messy discs, followed by Crash Cinema’s SE which compiled several versions of the film; cut, uncut and clothed. The prints used weren’t of a high standard (the uncut version faring the worst) plus the audio tracks were English dubs only, however the fact that Crash had brought together all of this material together was commendable. BCI/Deimos effectively trumped that one with the uncut unclothed version being presented on their DVD, which I picked up in 2008 and have enjoyed ever since.  It boasted a pleasing 1.85:1 anamorphic image with savored options to listen in either English or Castilian (English subtitles available) - a major bonus. There’s also an audio/text commentary, a nice introduction by Naschy himself, some extensive liner notes and one or two other titbits rounding out a fine set. I must comment on the BCI/Deimos cover designs: I think they were perceptively conceived and really attractive on the eye. With this series of Spanish Horror releases, the company were an exceptional contributor to DVD horror back in the boom days. Additionally, the book-style menu designs were among the most imaginative ever put on to disc, I still love them.  Considering the film here is an odd but highly likable entry from the Spanish seventies/eighties cycle (now probably my favourite period), this DVD is well worth adding to related collections.

Note that this DVD was technically superseded in 2017 by Scream's Blu-ray set (The Paul Naschy Collection, Volume 1), although that package contained, I believe, transfers from the same High Definition masters that BCI prepared, thus that collection of films did not contain the traditionally enhanced Blu-ray viewing experiences that for me warranted upgrading.  The Volume 2 collection is more relevant, containing as it does several Naschy films that I personally found harder to obtain (at least in decent versions) until the set arrived.

Thursday 28 December 2023

Black Magic Rites

In attempt to cobble together some sort of summary:  Several hundred years ago, Isabel (Rita Calderoni from the nearly as fu*ked up Nude For Satan and the much more coherently twisted Delirium) was burned at the stake while her lover (Hungary's own Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mickey Hargitay, also from Delirium) looks on helplessly. In the present day a group of Satanists led by the descendant of Isabel’s lover attempt to resurrect her still-rotting corpse through sacrifice of not-so-innocent victims, generally plucked from some kind of gathering that appears to be taking place in a nearby castle (I think).

How do you sum up a plot that comes across as predominantly incomprehensible? I’m not sure but I don’t think it matters so much in this case: Black Magic Rites is a psychedelic whirlwind of insane events and imagery that just has the viewer sitting there shaking their bewildered head at the fact that anything like this was ever committed to celluloid. There is plenty of nudity and some of the strangest characters ever created - one particularly potty woman is found hysterical on the stairs after supposedly being assaulted by a monster with ‘green hair, like all monsters’ (???) that nobody, including us, has ever seen. There’s something to do with vampirism in here too - apparently there are some family ties to Dracula even claimed along the way. Even as far as Euro-Horror is concerned, this film is booting sanity out the window with almost randomly strung-together sequences of celluloid that could easily have been shot by somebody off their merry head on drugs, but it sort of works as an escape into psychologically unbalanced surrealism and is helped if your perception is chemically manipulated at the time (in my case, inebriation). The late Renato Polselli has crafted some interesting work to be honest - the aforementioned Delirio Caldo/Delirium (1972) is pretty good and comparatively 'normal'! Previously he also made a more conventional Italian Gothic horror with L’Amante del Vampiro/Vampire and the Ballerina (1960), a bewitching piece that dances around in the same ballpark as Playgirls and the Vampire.

The original mouthful of a title for Black Magic Rites (1973) was Riti, Magie Nere e Segrete Orge Nel Trecento (or Black Magic Rites & the Secret Orgies of the 14th Century).  The print of the old US DVD by Redemption (entitled Reincarnation of Isabel) was apparently ultrasonically cleaned before the digital master of the time was created - apart from an excess of dirt/damage visible throughout it didn't look too bad considering the source, being moderately detailed. Under its Black Magic Rites moniker (as was the UK DVD plus a later release by Redemption in the US) on Kino Lorber/Redemption's Blu-ray, the disc was bare bones (bundled merely with a few trailers for a couple of the Rollin and Bava BDs that the company also put out) the image quality was improved in terms of detail and colour, though still quite scratchy and damaged (not something that bothers me personally).  Aside from the unfortunate cropping (albeit slight) of the image to 1.78:1 (damn that ratio!) the Blu-ray is a worthwhile step up from whatever you owned before.  As with those earlier discs we thankfully got the Italian language soundtrack with very clear English subtitles (BD subtitles are much clearer and neater than the digitised looking text we had to put up with on DVD). 

Later still, Indicator have once again hit the ball far out of the park with a limited edition release (separately on Blu-ray and 4K according to your delectation).  The attractive and quality-screaming packaging is in the vein of their Jean Rollin titles, a lavish inner case containing the disc, a beautiful book, all contained in a slipcase.  No BS artcards or other things that you will never pick up again, the money here has gone into the important stuff.  And most importantly is a proper restoration of the film itself – which once could very easily have been lost forever given its history - looking quite staggering compared to everything else, we now have fine, consistent grain with a cleaned image that must be definitive in its presentation.  Audio once again is Italian (with English subtitles), again very clear.  The extras package also belittles all previous discs – of note is a thirty minute consideration of Renato’s work (including 1999 interview footage with the director himself, courtesy of Pete Tombs) and a superb forty minute talk on the work leading up to Black Magic Rites by Stephen Thrower, including his own attempted analysis of the film.  Whether it’s the Blu-ray or the UHD, this is a critical release from Indicator for lovers of Euro-Horror and strange cinema, something that I really hope leads to a reappraisal of Renato Polselli's work, and the restoration/release of some of the films that I've been unable to see hitherto.

Saturday 16 December 2023

Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things

Night of the Living Dead was, as most reasonably knowledgeable film fans are aware, responsible for drastically altering the landscape of zombie cinema through transformation of the sub-genre from folkloric curiosity to something altogether more terrifying. In its wake followed outings directly influenced by its impact and success as this transformation continued its periodic evolutionary steps beyond the film’s first sequel right up to the present day, where the undead devils have now often learned to sprint faster than their living counterparts. But going back to the period between 1968 and 1978 (where Dawn of the Dead made its own indelible indentation) there were some interesting works being produced around the globe that pretty much had Night… to thank for their existence while possessing enough qualities to propel them to positions of value in their own right. 1972's Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things (i.e. immature teens shouldn’t mess with black magic and corpses, as we all know from personal experience, natch...) is one such piece that’s survived to be noticed through the last few decades but continues to attract completely varying opinions.

The narrative ideas of the film clearly owe a lot to Night… where a group of people become trapped in an isolated house against a relentless onslaught of the rotting dead, although reciting the story in a little more detail goes something like this: self-proclaimed creative force, Alan, hires a troupe of young adults/wannabe actors to travel to a small island for a night’s fun interfering with the black arts via rituals and the like, something that’s almost exclusively designed to provide him with some amusement thereby breaking up what must be ongoing personal boredom with the more mundane aspects of life. It’s soon the middle of night and they are gathered for reasons unknown at the island’s graveyard.  Following some embarrassment at the apparent failure of his expression of satanic rites one of the troupe shows Alan how it 'should' be done, everyone laughing before the budding director forces them to take a corpse from its resting place back to their cabin for a bit more tomfoolery. Some of them go along with it, some are understandably perturbed, but Alan heads further down the road of pushing taste to its boundaries for the sake of attention and the sheer amusement of revelling in other people’s distress. Then the graves outside begin opening up - it seems Alan’s ritual (or the more theatrical one that followed it) was a success after all, and within minutes a horde of the walking dead approaches and surrounds the cabin in a thirst for vengeance.

Where Night… was very straight faced in its dealing of the material, the tactic here is somewhat different: the first half of the film takes a persistently facetious angle as it presents its characters to us, most of whom are wisecracking teens that are endearingly lacking in pessimism. Heading the group is Alan (actually Alan Ormsby, one of the scriptwriters and special make-up effects artists on the crew - this sort of thing happens in low budget productions…). Alan is possibly the character that makes or breaks this film for most viewers due to his relentless arrogance and obnoxiousness. And it goes on and on to a point where viewers might wonder if anything horrifying (beyond the barrage of verbal gags) is ever going to happen. That’s why, for me, this film is creatively successful - when the shit does hit the fan its impact is multiplied. It goes from comic to dark in one very swift turn and the contrast lends the nastier second half an edge it might not otherwise have had - sort of a similar effect to that of Shaun of the Dead, or An American Werewolf in London, though not quite in the same class. It’s the stuff that gets on everyone’s nerves that ultimately aids the payoff, if people can just see past the things that are getting on their nerves of course… For this reason, the film works much better on multiple viewings. The show-stopping corpse rising sequence is something that Night… (and in the extras someone incorrectly suggests that it was the first time it was ever done on film – presumably they had not seen Hammer’s classic Plague of the Zombies) never had and it’s remarkably executed, having an air of the sinister and uncanny about it. Here and throughout, it should be noted that the brilliantly psychedelic electronic soundtrack plays an incredible part in crafting the weird atmosphere.  The teens’ comedic and dramatic interactions up until that point turn to disbelieving terror as the final third spirals upward to a chilling climax and a final shot that hints at something apocalyptic on the horizon.

This has been consistently available in one form or another for years. In the video age it would surface time and again with the crafty re-titling tactics of small video distribution companies that would trick fools like me into repeatedly buying the same film (Revenge of the Living Dead for example, neither title nor (extremely bad) cover artwork bearing resemblance to the real film it was selling). There was a DVD from VCI in the US that then became the most acceptable way of viewing Children… for a long time (in the post laserdisc era), but its non-anamorphic, dark and indistinct picture was not entirely desirable by modern standards. Anchor Bay UK then released a UK DVD and improved things in some respects: we had a clearer anamorphic transfer, multiple (and unnecessary in the case of DTS 5.1!) sound options, and a commentary by Alan Ormsby. The problem with the AB disc was that it consisted of a shorter version of the film; the ball was well and truly dropped on that one. After a brief transfer hiccup that involved the discs being temporarily recalled, a marginally better edition was put out later on in the US by VCI again: anamorphic enhancement for the full length version (approximately 87 minutes), another commentary, and several short featurettes. Later on, Nucleus (UK) released Children... as a double DVD bill with Bob Clark's subsequent film, Dead of Night, but possibly as a final statement VCI again returned to the film with two editions, Blu-ray and 4K, the source of which I believe is used for the 101 Films Blu-ray I have here.

Audio demonstrates some hiss and occasional mis-synching by a few frames, though is serviceable overall (gone are the old artificial surround tracks of the Anchor Bay era).  The HD video transfer may disappoint on initial glance, although with some tweaks to the display controls (particularly brightness and contrast) to balance out the elevated gray scales it doesn’t look too bad.  There is a relative absence of grain but the colours boast surprising vibrancy.  I think it has to be borne in mind that this is an early seventies very low budget (around fifty thousand dollars I believe) horror movie shot often at night, it may be that the raw materials have offered all the detail they’re ever going to.  After getting used to this image, embellished by the aforementioned display tweaks, in viewing I settled down to enjoy the film as it should be.

101 Films have included a number of VCI-sourced extras, including (where VCI demonstrate their technical ineptitude with audio quality so poor it requires subtitling!) interview footage with Alan (who reveals why he and Clark stopped talking later in their careers as well as their original intention to shoot a follow-up), and retrospective appreciation for Clark’s character and work.  An 11 minute or so on-stage Q&A is a welcome addition, as is commentary from Alan along with a couple of other cast members.  Two music videos by a band somewhat obsessed with necrophilia, a gallery and trailer round out a decent package.  This edition also comes with a welcome reversible sleeve (although the infamous cartoon sofa cover is unfortunately neither of the options), and was released both in isolation and as part of a Clark boxed set.  All in all, this movie is a minor cult item that can bring rewards to the more patient viewer of the macabre.  Despite the imperfections of the transfer, this release is very much appreciated on UK shores for this fan in particular.  P.S. It’s also the longer version rather than the truncated cut which Anchor Bay got hold of.


Saturday 25 November 2023

Lips of Blood

Obsessed with vague memories of a childhood nocturnal encounter with a strange but alluring woman, Philippe happens across some photographs at a get-together that remind him of the castle where the encounter supposedly took place. After forcing a photographer friend to tell him where the place actually is, he manages to arrange a meeting with the mysterious woman but along the way comes across four female vampires.  There may also be more to the woman than he initially realised, or remembered.  Philippe is on a strange journey to uncover secrets of his past.

The plots of Rollin films are often superfluous to the overall product - his films consist of recurring concepts contained within evocative visuals. His choice of location during the 60s through to early 80s was a notable strength, facilitating the creation of incredible-looking movies on miniscule budgets. He tended to utilise vampires, eroticism and gothic imagery to a great extent and with some often beautiful cinematography he was able to craft dreamlike experiences for the lucky viewers who connected with the material. Many people who watch his work may find it unprofessional (often due to the limited acting skills on display, alongside non-existent special effects budgets) but I’m one of the fortunate few who can escape into the strange universes of Jean Rollin. Lèvres de Sang (or Lips of Blood in translation), released in 1975, provides that opportunity with relish, although is not quite up there with my favourites (Requiem Pour un Vampire, and Frisson des Vampires for example). If you already adore the work of Rollin then you will almost certainly like this; if you’re unfamiliar then this remains a good place to start. Prepare yourself, if you are willing, to be carried away to a unique world of collision between fairy tale, mystery, and horror.

Once released on DVD both in the US and UK by Redemption, the disc contained a nicely presented non-anamorphic 1.66:1 image of Lips…, the colours being strong for the time with plenty of visual information to treat the viewer’s eyes to. The French soundtrack was good and subtitles perfectly legible. There were some cursory extras included though the release was later superseded to an extent by the Encore 3 disc edition (available from the continent), which came as an anamorphically enhanced (albeit incorrectly framed at 1.78:1) SE, this time arriving with a mountain of extras.

Redemption later teamed up with Kino Lorber to put Lips of Blood out on Blu-ray, and at the very least it revealed how good the previous DVDs actually were!  Detail was marginally improved, while colour and brightness levels were more balanced, plus it is accurately framed.  Language track again was in French (with optional and very clear English subtitles), which was suitably clear and technically uncompressed.  Trailers for various Rollin films are present on that Blu-ray, along with an introduction by the now deceased director, and an interesting interview with Rollin regular, Natalie Perrey, who revealed that the shoot for the film wasn't entirely comfortable.

Indicator finally acquired US and UK rights to embellish the film with a 4K transfer, released on both Blu-ray and UHD Blu-ray in a beautiful limited edition that conceals the disc in a digipack style case, this accompanied by a gorgeously presented book(let) within a hard outer case.  The transfer is improved once again, levelling out a consistent and fine grain-field in particular.  The extras package is significantly superior to the previous discs also, plentiful interviews (including a nice piece with Rollin’s son, who played the boy in the memories of Philippe).  The booklet is of very high quality, weighty and attractive paper.  Aside from some essential material about the project at hand by Rollin himself, there is also an essay from Maitland McDonagh - with trepidation I gave this a chance and on a positive note there is a lot of interesting commentary on the film itself and its fantastical, poetic beauty, however, she can't quite help herself with a descent into feminist-tinged griping by the final paragraph (masculine vampires apparently having hogged the limelight with the likes of Dracula, et al... sigh).  It's a shame that many boutique labels are resorting to digging up film critics who apply their contemporary obsessions with race and (here) gender to more or less everything that comes across their path.  It's a form of unnecessary and poisonous reductionism utilised to pollute the minds of others with a victimhood whining that has significantly less base in reality than is presented, and is really a means of acquiring more for oneself via the easiest means possible.  Sadly, omitting the first and particularly final paragraphs of this essay would have resulted in a much more useful addition to the booklet in my mind, but as it stands it feels as though it's once again a surreptitious means to an end in transmitting a distorted feminist ideology on to any person gullible enough to suck it up (and there are plenty - witness the success of Barbie for example).

Aside from this gripe, there is much to saviour about this release.  Delivered in its now definitive edition from Indicator, Lips of Blood is an enjoyable portrait of an individual's lost childhood manifesting its faded memories to an adult who is now ready to make a step into another dimension.  Or more simplistically perhaps, a fairly surreal erotic vampire film, whichever way you want to look at it.


Tuesday 12 September 2023

Rape of the Vampire

The first feature of legendary French sex/horror director, Jean Rollin, Rape of the Vampire (AKA in French, Le Viol du Vampire, from 1968) infamously started out as a short film, later being expanded to feature length (although still being structured in the final product as two parts, even so far as to having the second part credits midway through the film!).  Feeling almost like a silent product that has stumbled into the sixties, the story has something to do with a group of women, believing that they are creatures of the night, who have been enslaved by a strange old man posing as an effigy.  They are tracked down with attempts made to 'save' them from their apparent psychosis in the first part.  In the second part the mythical vampire queen herself materialises to despatch the old man, reviving the dead where possible, and coming into conflict with a doctor who is searching to cure vampirism.

It's not an especially easy film to 'like', particularly from a conventional perspective, and mainstream audiences will probably have switched off within minutes.  The narrative flow is awkward (although Rollin stated that it made perfect sense to him), and personally I struggle to fully understand of what's going on.  Proving as he did later on that his art sits within a surreal, supernatural realm, the hallmarks of his work take shape here.  The film is probably best approached as one might witness a dream unfolding, something that makes little sense but can at times be captivating in its own right.  Certainly the first part, running approximately half an hour, shows great promise: it is steeped in some incredible gothic imagery, as the girls reside in a dilapidated house in the middle of a winter-stripped forest.  Rollin shows amazing flare for composition, drawing the viewer into a world that they might want to remain enslaved within.  The second part is where I find difficulty, with the story meandering possibly a little too much, but as I say, if one approaches in a certain way there is value to to be acquired.

I have a long history with this film, as with many of Rollin's other classic works.  This began with Redemption introducing us more adventurous fans in the UK market to his work in the 90s via VHS.  Rape of the Vampire, as with several other Rollin works, was foolishly cut by the BBFC at the time (around 41 seconds), an affliction that remained until 2023.  In the early noughties I picked up the stateside Redemption (who had shifted operations overseas, most likely thanks to the BBFC) DVD release which offered a better presentation.  Around 2012 Redemption (alongside Kino) updated their offering with an improved Blu-ray.  This delivered excellent picture quality and a booklet (mostly written by Tim Lucas and suffixed with thoughts from Nigel Wingrove, founder of Redemption Films) - this was the best release by far at this point, containing interviews, a documentary, short films, and other titbits.

Finally (and this must surely be definitive), after Indicator acquired US/UK rights to the Rollin catalogue, both a 4K and Blu-ray upgrade edition appears.  I picked up the 4K edition (limited to 6000, whereas the Blu is limited to  4000).  This has been remastered from the negative and frankly looks incredible, the stark black and white photography (framed quite rightly at 1.66:1) truly showing off its beauty whilst being underpinned by a consistent and finely rendered level of grain (which has not been over-managed at all by Indicator - this is how film should be presented).  Considering the film was produced mostly by amateurs, it's quite astounding what a work of beauty they achieved here.

As always, the audio is French language with English subtitles.  The design of the package is wonderful: a weighty feel, the outer slipcase holds a book and digipack style disc holder, all adorned with carefully selected artwork.  It should also be pointed out that Indicator have finally gotten this one past a marginally more sensible BBFC for 2023; it is now uncut.  The extras gathered is quite something, taking the owner days to trawl through.  As with the others in this series, there is an exquisitely presented book/booklet (it teeters between the two, consisting as it does of 80 pages on high quality paper) with articles and interviews acquired from various sources.  The best of these is an extensive making-of essay by Rollin himself that documents the genesis and shooting of the film, including it's rather sad initial audience reactions (inappropriate as they were, the project still managed to bring in unexpected amounts of money).  The extras of the old Redemption Blu-ray are largely present, including filmed interviews, an extended (several minutes longer on the Indicator) making-of documentary as well as a lovely pre-Rape 16 minute short by Rollin called The Far Countries (AKA Les pays loin), 1965.  This will sound familiar: two lovers-to-be (male and female here, rather than the lesbians of Rollin's later work) are lost in a maze of inhospitable city streets unable to find their way to the centre or back out, everyone they speak for help to using unrecognisable foreign tongue, until they effectively locate refuge and settle with one another.  Even this short is treated with great respect in the Indicator set: remastered in gorgeous 1.66:1 B&W, it contains a commentary from the director (prompted at various points by an interviewer), accompanying stills, and a piece in the book.

The Redemption disc does contain Rollin's very first film (The Yellow Loves, AKA Les amours jaunes) from 1958 which does not appear in the new set (instead there is a reconstruction of one of his lost early shorts, L’Itinéraire souvenir), so I am of course hopeful it will turn up on one of Indicator's other releases.  The other thing that the Redemption has to its benefit is the aforementioned Tim Lucas booklet essay, which may be considered quite invaluable.  On the whole though, the extras of the Indicator set far outweighs anything previously.

Even if this lovingly produced package did not contain the title film - just the extras, design, and book - it would be worth the asking price.  Overall, a flawed (from my point of view) beginning for Jean Rollin punctuated by moments of ethereal beauty, Rape of the Vampire has been bestowed with its most significant home video offering, one which will surely never be bettered.  Now, imagine for a second if major studios treated their catalogue titles like this...

Saturday 29 July 2023

Jeepers Creepers 3

Beginning at the conclusion of the first film, outside of the police station where The Creeper has been attacked and lost, the apparently abandoned truck is towed away, intended to be impounded.  On route, The Creeper reappears and following a couple of deaths reacquires his truck, hiding it away in an open (!) field.  It is discovered by some arrogant teens but as with the cops they can find no way of boarding the vehicle, filled as it is with booby traps.  Meanwhile some cops and a team of vigilantes head out to track and finish the monster.  Elsewhere a grandmother whose son, Kenny, was once taken by the creature now has visions of her dead son and his warnings, whilst musing over revenge.  Kenny's niece attracts the attention of the monster and all are gradually brought together in a showdown to stop his insatiable lust over human body parts.

I feel there are several flaws with Jeepers Creepers 3 that did not afflict the previous outings.  The story meanders around confusingly over a severed hand that holds the key to information, and many characters that crisscross one another as they become mixed up in the monster's activities.  The previous entries took time to build up suspense, giving the characters something to become increasingly terrified about, whereas here the action starts from the first second.  Some may see this as advantageous, however, I don't feel that it works in the film's favour.  The other aspect that presents weakness is The Creeper himself.  Again, he is ably played by Jonathan Breck, however, the creature is fully visible in sunny daylight most of the time.  No attempt is made to conceal him as was the case in parts 1 and 2, thus - despite looking pretty cool - his impact is inevitably lessened.  The film is a reasonable time-passer maybe, on the other hand a bit of a let-down following two superior chapters.  The one nifty aspect of part 3 is that it winds up being a nice bridge between the first and second parts (with a cameo from one of the first film's characters at the conclusion).

Released in the UK on Blu-ray by 101 Films, the disc reminds me of a budget acquisition in the early days of DVD - there are no extras at all (not even a trailer) and the menu simply provides the viewer with a 'Play' option, no chapter selections, nothing!  Still, the film looks nice - 2.35:1 HD, it is very sharp and detailed disadvantaged only by a bitrate/lazy encode that can't always keep up, resulting in banding where colour gradations should be smooth.  The audio defaults to stereo but can be switched to 5.1, thankfully, for a competent track that exhibits some source mixing issues.  Overall the presentation is reasonable and the barebones disc can be picked up without too much financial outlay.

Saturday 22 July 2023

Jeepers Creepers 2

Jeepers Creepers 2 prologues with a farmer witnessing his son being whisked off by 'The Creeper', a creature that awakens every twenty three years to feed (on humans) for a month.  Switching scene to a bus-load of football players (alongside a handful of cheerleaders) who are heading back home after a victory, their vehicle succumbs to what appears initially to be a tyre blow-out.  The driver finds evidence that it might have been caused deliberately (due to the embedded presence of an arcane shuriken), but they are unsure by who, or what.  Unable to get moving they try, in vain with it being quite a remote road, to radio for help.  Then one of the group is pulled off into the air by an unseen assailant.  Panic ensues, the group pile back onto the bus, which from then on offers only limited protection for them from the creature lurking outside and clearly intent on picking them off, one terrified individual at a time.

Following in the footsteps of the popular Jeepers Creepers only two years later (2003), this slightly longer sequel brings us an entirely fresh group of victims, sorry, people.  Returning, naturally, is The Creeper of course, as well as a fleeting appearance by Justin Long as Darry.  Again I think there is a well-handled, methodical build-up, outside of the prologue, with the group initially starting off as a brash, overly-confident bunch that are gradually brought back down to earth as their situation becomes starkly critical.  I love the performances throughout this film, I think the actors nail the arrogant-gradually terrified characters nicely - some fine drama/conflict ensuing along the way - and obviously Jonathan Breck pins down The Creeper's blackly humorous, simultaneously nasty character as though he was made for the role.  The stranded-bus setting, utilised for most of the story, has great power in its natural limitations, oddly claustrophobic despite the whole thing taking place aside open fields.  This entry in the series in my view matches the quality of the first film, and likewise has stood up well over time.

As with the first film, my copy is part of a double-bill Blu-ray pack (imported from the US), although extras-free for the second entry unfortunately.  Jeepers Creepers 2 has a good 2.35:1 HD transfer, adequately grainy and colourful.  The surround (DTS 5.1) track has great cinematic power, well-mixed and delivering a fine audio experience.  At time of writing the Germans have released what appears to be a superior edition of part 2 (both as special limited packaging and standard edition), although it is oddly absent on Blu-ray in the UK, so it is a case of importing it from the US or Deutschland.

Friday 21 July 2023

Jeepers Creepers

Brother and sister duo (Justin Long and Gina Philips as Darry and Trish respectively) are travelling across country to visit parents when a maniacal truck driver nearly pushes them off road.  Not long after that they pass an old church where they believe they see the driver forcing bloody bodies down a chute.  Later on, when they notice the same strange character pass by in his truck, they (or more so, Darry) see an opportunity to head back to the church to investigate whether whoever was being dropped down the chute is still alive and needs help.  Trish is not exactly keen on this idea but goes along with it.  Reaching the church, Darry stupidly slips down the chute himself while trying to see what's down there.  He does of course find out personally - a cave full of corpses stitched together and mutilated and/or preserved.  Managing to locate a way out the perturbed Darry re-joins his sister and they both head to the nearest town to attract help.  That is not the only thing they've attracted, however, because the aforementioned driver is clearly not oblivious to their meddling, or the smell of their fear...

A surprisingly effective horror from Victor Salva, a tangible sense of mystery is built up during the first half or so of the film as the siblings embroil themselves in a troublesome scenario, the gruesome likes of which they didn't at the beginning imagine (otherwise they may have bypassed it quite voluntarily!).  The mystery element has been dampened somewhat by sequels but that shouldn't take away what was achieved here at the time (2001).  'The Creeper' himself (a mute Jonathan Breck, who would appear in the role for all three of Salva's Jeepers Creepers outings) is a fantastically macabre creation, part slasher villain, part supernatural monster, he is concealed/revealed to just about the right extent and at the right pace to keep him suitably scary.  He also has a nasty habit of consuming body parts to provide himself with physical functionality (shades of Dr Freudstein from the legendary House by the Cemetery perhaps), as well as sniffing the fear of others, amongst other habits.  Overall, Jeepers Creepers has stood up well over the couple of decades since its original release.

My copy is part of an MGM/Fox double bill Blu-ray with Jeepers Creepers 2, imported from the US.  The film is presented reasonably well, with grain visible, at 1.85:1 and backed with a DTS 5.1 audio track that is quite strong.  Extras-wise, the disc for the first film aped its previous release(s), while the encoding locks it to region A (US).  There has since been a superior release of the first film in the UK from 101 Films, essentially porting the 2016 Scream Factory edition.

Saturday 29 April 2023

Two Orphan Vampires

Two Orphan Vampires (which I'd probably give 2.5/5) has interesting aspects but it's not my favourite of Rollin's and probably could have done with some trimming.  It features the adventures of two blind orphans who regain their sight nocturnally, but also go on the prowl as blood-drinking ghouls.  They become adopted by a priest, but it really is just a cover for their vampiric activities.  It's purely strange fantasy and is not meant to be considered as serious drama.  The score itself works fantastically in some places but is cumbersome in others.  Probably not the best one to start with if you're unfamiliar with Rollin's work (for that I would suggest Requiem for a Vampire, Shiver of the Vampires, or Fascination), but if you are familiar and like what he did in the 70s/80s then this one does hold some value.  There is one standout sequence for me - the cemetery chase (bizarre in many respects) which leads to the two girls discovering a residing vampire who lends them her underground lair for the night.  It's the strongest five minutes or so of the film, oozing supernatural, funereal ambience.

Regarding what Indicator have produced.  Firstly, I'm surprised they've gone with more niche Euro horror titles for their 4K debuts, but as a fan of that area I am not complaining one bit.  The other simultaneous release (which I've also received but not watched yet) is Shiver of the Vampires, and that one definitely is one of my favourites.  Two Orphan Vampires is presented properly in this new edition at 1.66:1.  You have French language and English language audio tracks to choose from, with good English language translated subtitles for the former.  Personally I would not recommend watching the film in English, French is the way to go, but it's fantastic that the choice is there.

The 90s low-budget cinematography does not always make for the prettiest of viewing, although Rollin makes his usual atmospheric use of locations, and there are a couple of inspired moments.  The new 4K transfer retains grain in abundance and detail is as high as might be possible with the film - it looks natural, organic, and probably as fine as it can.   Colours are often subdued so the HDR doesn't have to work too hard.  In comparison with the previous Blu-ray from Redemption, the new disc has a finer and more consistent grain structure with a touch more detail (although I would give credit to the Redemption release for being very good).  The French language track (mono) sounds very clean, and the subs are highly legible.  I'd say Indicator have done a respectful job with this, it is the best home video presentation (previously I bought the Redemption Blu-ray as mentioned, and the Shriek Show DVD before that, which was awful).

The extras list is comprehensive, as you might expect from Indicator, they've put a lot of effort into the filmed work.  The outer package might not be what you anticipate if you're got the likes of Night of the Demon and Swimmer LEs in your collection - the slipcase is much slimmer, closer to the thickness of a normal Blu-ray.  Inside are two components: a digipack style holder for the disc, and a very high quality booklet which overall lends the package a weighty and classy feel.  Indicator have thoughtfully (and other labels producing 'Limited Editions' should take note of the this!) individually numbered the rear side of the outer case - I understand that the UHD is limited to 6000 worldwide and the Blu-ray equivalent 4000.

This will be the last release you would ever need of this latter day Rollin, I'm quite sure of that!  A fine debut to 4K for one of the best boutique labels.