Beatnik Break'd: A Bucket of Blood (1959)

A Bucket of Blood (1959)

Rating: ***1/2

Starring: Dick Miller, Barboura Morris, Antony Carbone

A black-and-white mini cult classic produced and directed by Roger Corman, starring cult movie icon Dick Miller when he was just 31 years young. Need I say more?

Working as a busboy at the trendy art-house coffee shop The Yellow Room, Walter Paisley (Dick Miller) wants nothing more than be socially accepted by the Beatniks he serves and he desperately strives for this by trying his hands on being an artist. His sculpting skills are, sadly, terminally lacking, but a strike of inspiration hits him after accidentally stabbing his landlady's cat in an attempt to free it from a wall: by covering the corpse in plaster (knife still sticking out), he crafts his first masterpiece, subtly titled 'Dead Cat'. The shockingly grim piece is an instant hit of 'realism' within the cafe, granting Walter the praise he have been yearning for all this time, as well as a newfound niche of murdering people in secret and showcasing their plaster-encased bits and pieces as art. 

The more merits Walter receives, the more desperate he becomes to continue his work. Thus, the more he needs a stable supply of bodies...

A rather amusing and functional send up to Beatnik culture, A Bucket of Blood (1959) reflects the time director Roger Corman and regular writer Charles B. Griffith started taking their work less seriously by the end of the 50s, playing a macabre yet identifiably whacky sense of humor into this movie's direction as it satires art scene pretentiousness and the ridiculous lengths people would go just for a little bit of recognition and attention. Made within the budget of $50,000 and shot in only five days, it's all told and done in an economically-restrained production that relied heavily on the performances of its casts and less on convincing movie effects to bring out the comically dark from its simple yet ghastly plot. True enough, the kills here aren't as graphic or well-crafted as most modern horror film murder scenes are, but the title entertainingly makes up for it with the grotesque yet hammy implications of our demented wannabe-artist's lunacy, who Dick Miller played with genial timidness despite being unhinged, crafting his Walter Paisley character as a sympathetic simpleton with a mostly relatable need to belong.

Its approach rather lighthearted despite the gruesome subject, A Bucket of Blood (1959)'s sentiments lean closer on being fun and hammy with a good dose of shock and violence, making it horror in small parts and a black comedy at most. Clocking only an hour and five minutes, it's a near-perfect fright flick quickie at that barely overstays its welcome and packs enough of an imaginative melting pot of the appalling, the humorous and even the melancholic to keep a horror fan happy and entertained.

Horrific and funny, this is one cult classic that you shouldn't miss!

Bodycount:

1 male had his head cracked open with a pan

1 female strangled to death with a scarf

1 male decapitated with a buzzsaw

1 male hanged

Total: 4

The Price of Fame: The Comeback (1978)

The Comeback (United Kingdom, 1978) (AKA "Encore", "The Day the Screaming Stopped")
Rating: ****
Starring: Jack Jones, Pamela Stephenson and David Doyle

Oh yes, Pete Walker! This is a name any slasher fan should be familiar with as the man directed, wrote and produced a fair number of reviled horror and titillating sexploitation movies back in the days, practically providing 70s British horror its share of gruesome proto-slashers such as The Flesh and Blood Show (1972), Frightmare (1974) and, one of my personal favorites of his, House of Mortal Sin (1976). Here, we see him basically laying out the stepping stone for various mystery-adjacent slasher flicks, focusing more on plotting and even managing to reel in American Grammy Award-winning straight-pop singer Jack Jones to lead. This is The Comeback (1978)!

After a six-year hiatus from the music industry and dealing with a crumbling marriage, Nick Cooper (Jack Jones) returns to England looking for a comeback. His fickle manager Webster (David Doyle) is willing to give him another shot and found Nick an old country manor to stay at to sort things out and write his new material in luxury. Unbeknownst to our comeback star, his ex-wife Gail (Holly Palance) also returned to England with the intention of taking expensive valuables from their former penthouse, only to fall victim to a sickle-wielding, shrieking ghoul in a hag's mask and a crocheted shawl. 

As the story progresses, Nick's recording sessions proceed with relative success and he even found the time to score a relationship with Webster's adorable secretary Linda (Pamela Stephenson), though his nights are haunted by the echoing sounds of a girl sobbing down the estate's darkened hallways, which progresses to demented cackling and visions of decomposing corpses as the days go by. All of this while Gail's corpse continues to decompose back at the penthouse and more of Nick's old friends start getting bumped off by the same assailant in the hag mask. This leads us to multiple red herrings that may or may not tie in to our singer's seemingly paranormal night terrors and the vicious mad slasher attacks, from Nick’s contact and friend Harry who verbally harasses Pamela by venomously commenting on her breasts when he found the time to be alone with her, to the old caretakers staying at the same estate to help around only to break down behind Nick's back, to Webster with his apparent dislike for girls and implied closet-crossdresser lifestyle of eye shadows and lipstick.

It's hammy and exploitive, much like many of Pete Walker's works, though it is noticeable that there's a length of restraint put to The Comeback (1978), giving room to establish a workable brooding atmosphere, gothic scares, and, too, an intriguing direction to the mystery in regards to what is happening to Jack Jone's character, how all of the madness and murder onscreen will somehow tie in to one another in the end. It is this angle that I find very enjoyable from this movie as the attempt on a serious psychological thriller plot mostly hits the right spot with a developing casts and story, peppered with shockingly brutal murders, gruesome imageries of maggot infested corpses, and a stellar line of casts toplined by Love Boat singer Jack Jones, who I am sure baffled and horrified his fans back in those days for starring in such a gruesome flick!   

The pace can be on the slow side and uneven at times but Walker does an interesting job in managing the horror elements with a lot of build-up and suspense, and, though the bodycount is rather lacking in high numbers, there's a genuine shock value to the murders for how swift and savage they are, implemented greatly with wild editing and a copious amount of onscreen blood. In the end, we get a fair twist and motive behind the killings after a mental institution got involved and another one of Nick's acquaintances disappears, something that I find leaning forward to feisty feta for how cheesy and overly complicated this killer's revenge plan was. But I got a good laugh out of it and I stupidly grinned at the hamminess of it all, so it's not a complete loss in my book! Elevated it actually, to be frank!

A decent treat for slasher fans who wouldn't mind a bit more dimension in their bodycounter stories, The Comeback (1978) is far from perfect, pedestrian as some people would say, yet it's far from awful. Effective and enjoyable for its honest chills, modest thrills and promised spills, it's an unsung cult gem that delivers. Color me impressed!

Bodycount: 

1 female hacked to death with a sickle

1 female corpse seen
1 male stabbed repeatedly with a knife
1 female hacked on the chest with an axe
Total: 4

Deadly Habits Down At The Colorado Rapids: Savage Water (1979)

Savage Water (1979)
Rating: *

Starring: Gil Van Waggoner, Ron Berger and Bridget Agnew

You know you more or less fucked up when the horror movie you're watching opens with a foreboding voice monologuing about the beauty and savagery of the Colorado river, only for it to start singing what I assume is the movie's own opening country song, guitar twangs and all. 

I'm going to need the bottle for this one...

In this rarity (cannot imagine why) of a slasher title, we follow a group of tourists from both in and out of American soil in a white water rafting holiday and, I stress you not, a big chunk of this movie is just these folks enjoying the soggy tour through the rapids. Their guide prep talks about the dangers of the rapids and its surrounding wilderness, they raft, camp, talk, eat, talk, sleep, talk, did I mentioned they talk? Like, we literally have a scene where two dudes in short shorts is just standing next to a portable toilet tent, talking about the lady inside using it. It doesn't help that the dialogue here are also poorly written, ineptly acted and ran through low quality audio, further numbing my senses until I begin to ponder if the "horror" of this horror flick may have more to do with it existing.

We eventually got our first kill about halfway or so into the plot, with one poor sap getting pushed off a cliff and landing as a bloody mess in a pool being used by some bathing girls. Even then the endlessly tiresome conversations and now awkward camping scenes never ceased, taking more of the movie's precious time away from properly building up any workable tension towards the murder spree and the mystery behind the identity of the killer hiding within the group. It's just bad low-budget celluloid all the way, bearing little excitement with its lackluster kills and overcooked "character development", with perhaps the only good things I can get out from all of this are unintentional hilarity and the worthwhile nature shots of the Grand Canyon and Colorado Rapids, minuscule points to clamor over when everything else about this late-70s grindhouse wilderness murder mystery is just one big gaffe.

I guess I should have heeded the signs that the universe was trying to protect me from seeing this film when my first copy of Savage Water (1979), released by Vinegar Syndrome, got scratched to hell by a malfunctioning disc player and that was around the time the company pulled the movie from distribution due to some issues with the rights. It wasn't until last year that I managed to get a digital copy of the film from a generous contact, only to lose that copy when the hard drive I stored it at crashed. Another digital copy was handed to me a few months later by a different contact, who also gave me the weird eye before wishing me "good luck, you sad strange little man". So many opportunities given to save myself from this fecal mound and I took none of them. Learn from my mistake and don't bother with this.

Bodycount:

1 male pushed off a cliff

1 female falls to her death while mountain climbing (flashback)

1 male falls to his death

1 female knifed in the back

1 female fed with ginseng leaves, succumbs to a heart seizure

1 male shredded with a boat motor propeller

1 boy drowned in the rapids

1 male had his climbing rope cut, dropped to his death

Total: 8

The Six-Fingered Hand of Bloody Redemption: The Redeemer (1978)

The Redeemer (1978) (AKA "The Redeemer: Son of Satan!", Class Reunion Massacre")
Rating: **1/2

Starring: Damien Knight, Jeannetta Arnette, Nick Carter

Oh, Lordy. This movie. This wonderfully horrible movie.

It starts with a shot of a hand punching out of a clear lake after a tedious run through the opening credits and a sacrilegious quote, revealing a boy with a very dated haircut casually walking out of the waters and boarding a bus headed to the town church. Elsewhere, a shadowy figure grants a sleeping fellow an extra thumb on one hand because spoiler-related reasons. And, yes, it's kinda gross-looking. One tiny thumb on top of an elongated one.

Urge to poke it with a stick... Growing...

We then we see that the soaky lil' dude is one with of the (more bullied) choirboys and the sermon is your typical fire-and-brimstone type about sins and whatnot, yelled by an equally typical Bible-thumping priest. This is where we get our character introductions interjected through out the righteous Gospel ramblings; John, a lawyer who values money more than a fair trial; Cindy, a party girl with multiple failed marriages; Terry, the eater of burgers; Jane, one who shoots at pigeons for fun; Roger, a vain actor who walked out of set because someone spilled a drink on his pants; and Kristen, a lesbian. Just, uh, just a lesbian. The six happen to be part of a small clique back at their highschool years and they all recently received an invitation to attend a reunion back at their alma mater.

Unbeknownst to them, they're the only ones who got the invites, which could've just been weird, amusing even, if it wasn't for the loon out stalking and prowling around the campus killing them one-by-one. A loon with a penchant for hammy disguises, life-sized weapon-wielding puppets and Biblical tirades. A loon who calls himself- The Redeemer!  

Now, see, as much as I want to decimate this movie and make a mockery out of its flaws, I can't. I just simply can't. I have a soft spot for dumb cheesy movies, particularly those that are done with the right amount of unintentional humor and have made odd spectacles out of themselves, something The Redeemer here manages to do and a little more. For one, the atmosphere is just befittingly weird coming from the story's dream-like logic and semi-creepy direction, straight from the shot of a random choirboy rising out of the cold waters and the random double thumb appearing at one's hand, to the villain's unusual gimmick of donning random costumes and his somewhat supernatural nature. It plays well with the movie's good eye on expressive cinematography and, too, the villain's warped morality which can be best described as very shallow at best (or worst), yet strangely entertaining leaning on the fact he's going through all of this trouble of dropping swords and setting up blowtorch-equipped mannequins to attack just because the clique is guilty of things like eating too many fast food or loving themselves too much. That said, despite the absence of strong grue or a high count, I also came to like the murders perpetrated by our Redeemer here all for the sheer unusualness of it all, may it be the execution of the scene or the imagery itself.

Character-wise, it's hard to hide how regular the victims can be, unfortunately; don't get me wrong, the actors tried (and I mean, tried) to milk out any seriousness and talent they can muster to act their respective one-note meat bags, but writing and scripting are hardly this movie's strong points so they go against creating any real solid casts unsurprisingly. You could say the same for our titular killer with his holier-than-thou horror trope psychosis, but he at least has the thankful joy of being exaggeratedly bad, to the point that I can't really take him seriously despite the murdering business and all. (Like how can you? This guy can't even get the number of sins right. It's seven deadly sins, shmuck. Not six. Unless we're pulling a Se7en (1995) here and the killer is the seventh sin?!)

Yes, The Redeemer (1978) is no real gem, but it's a personal treat that keeps splitting my sides with its ludicrous ham, as well as captivate me for just how absurd it can get. Perhaps you can say I find it so bad it's good, so much so that it deserves to sit proudly next to other lovable bad trashes like ThanksKilling (2008) and Nail Gun Massacre (1985). If you see yourself a wee bit curious enough to try it out then I say, go for it! Just remember to dim the lights in your noggin and not take any of it as high art as much as possible and you'll do mostly fine!

Mostly.

Bodycount:

1 male shot on the neck

1 male set on fire with a blow torch

1 female shot with a shotgun

1 male gets a sword dropped unto his head

1 female drowned in a handwashing sink

1 male shot on the head

1 female hacked to death with a sword

1 boy seen dead from throat cut

Total: 8 

Festive Fears With The Family: Home For The Holidays (1972)

Home For The Holidays (1972)
Rating: ***1/2

Starring: Jessica Walter, Sally Field, Eleanor Parker 

On a stormy Christmas Eve, married Jo (Jill Haworth), alcoholic Freddie (Jessica Walter) and young Christine (Sally Field) are summoned back to their old country home by their sister Alex (Eleanor Parker) to help settle a disturbing family matter; their father (Walter Brennan) suspects that his current wife Elizabeth (Julie Harris) has been slowly poisoning him as she's rumored around town to have murdered her own husband the same way years ago. Paranoid and desperate to save himself, he orders his daughters to do the unspeakable: murder his wife!

With some of the sisters not being big fans of their patriarch and his condescending tongue, the women mostly scoff off his demands and see his ramblings as nothing more than senility finally getting to the old man. After one uneasy Christmas Eve dinner and an incident with Freddie getting suicidal-drunk, Jo decided to brave the storm and ride out to catch a flight back, only to be pitchforked dead by a figure in a yellow rainslicker and red gloves. It appears that there is indeed a murderer within the family, but could it be Elizabeth as their father suspected all along? Or perhaps another lunatic out to thin down the family?

As a made-for-TV proto-slasher, Home For The Holidays plays less like your standardized bodycounter filled with murdered teens and masked hulks, and more like a cozy Sunday afternoon whodunnit thriller packed with a few familiar horror tropes. Little slasher set-ups like a bonafide chase through the dark, rainy woods and the killer skulking around ala point-of-view shots do occasionally pop up, but majority of the play doesn't abide by the typical slasher trappings completely, thus the twisty surprises in its direction often come genuine and enticing, even if the story bogs down into TV soap territories more often than it needs to. Thankfully, the film doesn't overstay its welcome and gets the intrigue rolling as soon as the women are made aware of their father's plight, squeezing in Gothic sensibilities, Hitchcockian flair (Psycho (1960) screenwriter Joseph Stefano did write this) and an impressive performance from its casts to keep this murder plot exciting albeit the minimal, bloodless bodycount.

Hardly a complicated film to sit through, Home For The Holidays (1972) is a simple holiday thriller in the vein of paperback mystery novels, or at least a longer episode of Murder, She Wrote. If you fancy yourself a fun whodunnit that doesn't go all-out exploitative, this is a fair title to indulge in and enjoy during the Winter holidays or whenever it's raining outside. 

Bodycount:

1 female stabbed in the back with a pitchfork

1 female pulled into a bathtub, drowned

1 male murdered, method unknown

Total; 3

Survival and The Price Men Pay For It: Rituals (1977)

Rituals (Canada, 1977) (AKA "The Creeper")

Rating: ****

Starring: Hal Holbrook, Lawrence Dane, Robin Gammell

While some backwoods slashers tend to set themselves within campgrounds or lakeside vacation homes, a faction of them do brace the very woods itself and have their casts face on not only a psychopathic figure out for blood, but also the unforgiving savagery of steep terrains, rapid waters and forests veiling its threats in shadows at nightfall.

Rituals (1997) is among the early examples of these backwoods "survival slashers", taking very strong cues from the 1972 drama Deliverance as we follow five doctors on their yearly outdoor trip, escaping the busy and stressful city life. It's clear in their banters that they've been friends for a very long while now, their little jabs at each other's professions, ethics and personal life hinted with much good terms and sly warmth that only a good tempered bond can forge, thus this little stroll down to some place called the "Cauldron of The Moon" should have been nothing more than just another hiking and camping trip for these men.

However, in the morning after, they see their first hint that something's amiss when all but one pair of their boots suddenly go missing and, later that evening, someone erected a macabre idol made out of a freshly decapitated deer head on a stake nearby their camp. Assuming these being the work of a prowler (or prowlers) who decided to terrorize them, the men choose hike out while they still can with nothing but rags wrapping their feet, while one of them with the only pair of boots volunteers to venture to a dam he spots in the map to find help. It is then that they become aware of the severity of their predicament when, during a wasp attack from a hurled hive, someone throws one of them to their death, a cold murder that's bound to happen to the rest of them should they stay in the woods any longer...

From here, Rituals (1977) shows how strong its as a survivalist thriller and I will admit with no hesitation, it is verily effective; the further our men go through nature's harshness of heavy rain, crashing waterfalls and sun-scorched trails, the more we see their necessities get taken away and they slowly lose grip on being civil as they start throwing blame around or open old wounds to pick fights, getting reduced into angry babbling messes simply struggling to survive. This direction works so well with the casts' stellar delivery of the movie's superb scripting, bearing little to no ham even if the plot progresses out of its near-realistic wilderness terrors and stalk into straight-up fantastical horror. The film's handful of striking imagery somehow works itself within the plot's theme of losing control and the unpredictable cruelty of nature, swinging in a right amount of dread and suspense upon both its characters and the audience as we path through and observe an environment that is as unforgiving and dangerous as the human threat teased throughout the movie, a strong staple of survivalist horror done right.

As a slasher in turn, Rituals (1977) may not follow the classic bodycounter rulings given its greater focus on psychological strain and devolution, it does still tackle enough from the sub-genre to be a solid early outing for the backwoods hack 'n slash-type; we do have a body count with a decently fair number, albeit it's brought upon from a more wider variety of causes not limited to the movie's eerily obscured maniac. In fact, the killer's never really completely present on screen until the hour mark where we finally catch a glimpse or two, or see things through their eyes in your typical point-of-view shot. They got through a couple of kills, yes, but they're mostly an observer, biding their time to commit their next kill or let Mother Nature take out these men for them. The motive behind their killings can be a bit loose though, silly even for how both unrelated and specific it is, but I see it as a minor gripe considering how well the rest of the movie works itself around it, especially if it all leads to a harrowingly intense climax, a hauntingly silent reveal to what's behind these deaths and misfortunes, and one last shot that's serene and cathartic at the same time.

An excellent Canuck proto-slasher, this is one title that earned its cult fave status. I strongly recommend any true horror fans to try this out and consider giving this movie a spot for their collection as a minor classic and a hidden gem. A guaranteed genre pleaser!

Bodycount:

1 male thrown down a cliff

1 male strangled to death

1 male had a leg caught on a rusted bear trap, suffers through toxic shock

1 male hacked on the chest with an axe, bled to death

1 male set ablaze

1 male shot with a shotgun

Total: 6

Curtains For The Critics: Theatre of Blood (1973)

Theatre of Blood (United Kingdom, 1973)

Rating: ****

Starring: Vincent Price, Diana Rigg, Ian Hendry 

Ah, Vincent Price. You and your enjoyable proto-slashers! We meet again!

A deliciously campy romp from the legendary horror icon, Price is Shakespearean actor Edward Kendal Sheridan Lionheart! Disgraced by a group of critics who tore his performance apart, leading to him losing a prestigious award to a newcomer and driving him into suicide by jumping to the Thames from a building's height. Thought to be dead for two years, Lionheart, surviving the fall, soon returns as a madman hellbent on revenge and he has a little mob of homeless meth drinkers, as well as a mysterious man in shades helping him impose gruesome demises upon those who failed to see his genius.

Basically, Theatre of Blood (1973) is a brilliant classic proto-slasher for Price to demonstrate his ability to be both horrific and melodramatic at the highest levels of camp. He succeeds in doing this with the most over-the-top devilish persona to ever grace an exploitation piece, a shamed former actor who puts his stage skills and newfound bloodlust to use through the most entertaining revenge plot that's as cheeky as it is horrendous. There's no doubt Price adored this role seeing his twisted enthusiasm and wry delivery, perhaps one of his most entertaining characters in his acting career! He even gets to treat us with his stage play prowess reciting lines reeking in high grand, all to entertain his smelly and impressionable group of minions inside the abandoned Putney Hippodrome, adding a layer of appeal to his character.

The rest of the cast are a catch too, mainly Diana Rigg, a 60’s sex symbol and the Bond Girl in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969), playing Lionheart’s avenging daughter Edwina who willfully carries out her father's plan along his side, and Ian Hendry as Peregrine Devlin, the only likable critic who suspects Lionheart's hand on the recent deaths and putting up a good fencing fight in yet another of the movie's more memorable scenes. The pompousness of the doomed critics does rile up a good nerve to earn their ruthless yet creative dispatches, but not enough to make them overly unlikable to the matter of being unentertaining considering their sneering banter with one another provided some laughs.

And speaking of dispatches, the deaths here are another aspect of this movie that makes it a spectacular watch, perverting Shakespearean writing into decidedly gory comeuppances ranging from a delightfully messy decapitations, an ironic drowning, upsetting meat pies and a clever trick that has one of the critics getting themselves into a fate leading to death. The graphic nature of these killings contrasts fully with the light-hearted comedic tone of the script, hence making them cathartic and striking enough even if they have a twinge of dark humor in them.

In all honesty, I see very little to speak ill of about this movie as everything about it works as a comical slice of horror cinema. From Price playing dress-up multiple times to lure in or get close to his victims, to the outrageous set-pieces he and his cohorts have to work with just to get back on those who wronged Lionheart's talent and make a point, there's hardly a boring scene here. Every thing is dipped in a good amount of gloriously hilarious goodah and on a pace that flows so smoothly that its hundred minute running time feels like a satisfying breeze. The movie carries its British retro charm to a fun tee and snazz it up further by practically not taking itself too seriously, just having fun with the ridiculousness of its premise. 

Shockingly macabre yet innovatively dark, Theatre of Blood (1973) is a horror comedy in its best form, and too Vincent Price's testament as to why he's regarded as one of horror's treasured artists. Don't delay yourself from this 70s genre classic and see it as soon as you can!

Bodycount:

1 male stabbed to death by a mob of vagrants

1 male ran through with a spear

1 male decapitated in an impromptu surgery

1 male had his heart carved out with a dagger

1 male drowned in a barrel of wine

1 female smothered with a pillow

1 male implied to die in prison due to old age

1 female electrocuted with a rigged salon hair dryer

1 male choked on force-fed meat pie

1 male immolated inside a car by an incoming train

1 female dies from a bludgeoned head

1 male set ablaze

Total: 12

A Man of the Cloth. And Killing: House of Mortal Sin (1976)

House of Mortal Sin (United Kingdom, 1976) (AKA "The Confessional", "The Confessional Murders")
Rating: ***1/2
Starring: Anthony Sharp, Susan Penhaligon, Stephanie Beacham

The idea of a slasher film with a murderous pastor for a villain is always a cheeky treat for me; if done right, the irony of this concept can be deliciously juicy as an exploitation piece, as well as terrifying looking into the fact that it can happen in real life with many people in respected positions abusing their authority. Pete Walker's House of Mortal Sin (1976) is a good example of this, serving us a distressing scenario about an everyday woman being stalked by a disturbed and very repressed pastor.

Down in the dumps from a recent nasty break-up, Jenny Welch (Susan Penhaligon) opted to pour her heart out to an old friend, Bernard (Norman Eshley), who entered as a curate at their local Catholic church. When she goes to see him, though, she instead ends up wandering into a confessional box where Father Meldrum (Anthony Sharp) secretly records her confessions, including that of a secret abortion she had. The more Meldrum creepily asks her for details about her sex life, the further Jenny gets freaked out and soon books it out of there, unknowingly leaving her keys behind. 

What soon follows is tragedy upon tragedy as Meldrum starts to stalk Welch, breaking into her house to lurk around and use the confessional  recording to try blackmailing into coming back to him. Should she choose not to, or if someone gets too close to finding out his true nature and intentions, Meldrum wastes no time killing whoever gets in his way whenever he fails to lie out of trouble.

It's clear House of Mortal Sin (1976) aims for controversy by putting organized religion under criticism and showing us the possible dark side a man of the cloth would harbor within, but for its worth, it is still a darkly entertaining film with honest-to-God chills and a fairly intriguing villain.

There is no doubt that Meldrum is one key character that kept this movie alive; his obsession over one woman is just frightening for the lengths he's willing to go, all the while tormented by guilt over his urges to the point he has no problem lashing out at anyone, this includes his poor bedridden mother who has no choice but to listen to her son ramble out madness. Anthony Sharp did a wonderful job here bringing this mad pastor to life, deceiving us with his old, pompous and frail demeanor before engulfing us in toxic malice and brewing lust through hammy yet creepily uncomfortable dialogue, as well as the occasional bloodshed with everything from burning incense censers to rosary beads getting the profane treatment of being murder weapons, resulting to a few impressively brutal kill scenes.

On the other side of the poisoned communion wafer, Penhaligon played her Jenny character decent enough as a memorable and vulnerable victim of Meldrum's mania and Eshley leads a strong and rather likable liberal pastor whose decision for celibacy is tested as he starts to grow feelings for Jenny's sister, played with girl-around-town spunk by Stephanie Beacham. We also have Sheila Keith (who starred at two previous Walker movies) as Miss Brabazon, an imposing figure who looks after and tortures Meldrum's mother as a side element the film brings up from time to time. Her slice of the story, however, does come into some importance at the end where in it's revealed that Meldrum's demented disposition and Brabazon's continuing torment upon his mother are tied together.

Story-wise, House of Mortal Sin (1976) does not deviate much from its main plot, hiding little to no twists in its direction while borrowing elements from other psycho-drama and bodycount thrillers of the time. It goes through the events in an escalating manner that the stalker drama sequences that comes in between the murders felt natural and piece everything together interestingly, albeit suffering a few padding issues that's close to tedious. This remains to be the case until the last act, when the movie picks itself up agreeably before swinging a bleak ending at us that not only is littered with bodies, but broke expectations, too.

In my eyes, House of Mortal Sin (1976) is one of Pete Walker's better movies and an underrated proto-slasher that's full of inventive ideas, old-fashioned psychological horror and a shred of mischief, all meant to shock and stir. A Grand Guignol commentary on religion, there's no denying this is a unique effort worth seeing.

Bodycount:

1 female threw herself off a bedroom window

1 male bludgeoned to death with incense burner

1 male found killed

1 female poisoned with tainted communion wafer

1 female strangled with a rosary, neck crushed

1 elderly female poisoned with tainted communion wafer

1 female found with throat cut

Total: 7

Eastwood vs The Vigilante System: Magnum Force (1973)

Magnum Force (1973)
Rating: ****1/2
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Hal Holbrook, Mitchell Ryan

When Dirty Harry (1971) came out in theaters back in the days, audiences saw the birth of a future pop culture icon Inspector Harry Callahan, a cop who gets assigned to "every dirty job that comes along" and handling them through means crossing professional boundaries, all in the name of his own vision of justice. In that movie, Callahan went bullet-to-bullet with an insane sniper going by the moniker Scorpio and as impressive it is as a movie (perhaps one of the best action flicks ever) it doesn't really challenges you to ponder on whether or not you should empathize with its villain.

Scorpio was a heartless, manipulative psychopath who demands money under the false pretenses that he'll stop his killings should he get his ransom, so it's no deal-breaker that we'd root for him getting the hot leaded end of Callahan's controversial yet well deserving sense of justice, but what will the inspector do should he face someone who lives by the same brand of antiheroism, set to the extreme? This is where Magnum Force (1973) comes in.

The first sequel of many following the further high caliber cop adventures of "Dirty Harry", it starts with mobster Carmine Ricca being acquitted of a mass murder on a legal technicality. Smugly driving away from the court with his cohorts, Ricca and company soon got the attention of a motorcycle cop and asked to pull over in an isolated road due to some traffic violation. Unbeknownst to them, this is all just a foil as the cop proceeds to execute all of them with gunfire.

Among the many to respond to this eventual crime scene is none other than Inspector Callahan, alongside his partner Earlington "Early" Smith. Although supposed to be on stakeout duty, the Inspectors have no qualms sticking their noses in this circus, though their superior Lieutenant Neil Briggs thinks otherwise and would rather have the two take down other baddies instead, including a couple of plane hijackers and a gang of pharmacy store robbers.

However, it seems the cop-gone-rogue is far from done being judge, jury and executioner as San Francisco's underworld continues to thin down. Hoping to end the threat as soon as possible, the city's police department have no choice but to assign Harry on homicide to help with the investigation, leading him to suspect the vigilante is someone within the department after one too many coincidences concerning the deaths and a particular new recruit.

The whole film is practically a cop drama with a small slice of proto-slasher action as the scenes involving the vigilante cop strongly resembles the stalk-and-kill style of later slasher villains, only with a handgun. The vigilante cop is shot mostly from the neck down whenever they appear on screen at the early half of the film, an obscuring technique used for plenty of horror movie killers, and the executions they bring have this focused build-up that often ends with brutal results. All of this working its way to a climactic cat-and-mouse chase between Callahan and the vigilante-type inside an abandoned harbor bay, not so unlike the slasher finales between a masked killer and the final character.

Cleverly, these scenes are incorporated into the story with a rather thought-provoking take as while the killings only target those criminal types at first, it gradually starts to include those that just happens to be in the way the further the plot goes. This gives both our main casts and the audience new grounds to cover regarding grey area characters, identifying with them regarding their goals but also questioning where exactly do we draw the line, an exceptional and intriguing position to put the likes of someone who isn't that big of a fan of the law as "Dirty Harry". Even more noticeable is that while not out riding through the city of San Francisco looking for hoodlums to kill, the rogue is a rather likable individual, particularly during the times they're just shooting the breeze in vigorous zeal with the then-unknowing Callahan.

In the midst of this, Magnum Force still doesn't forget its run-in-the-mill shoot'em up thriller roots, fortunately, so while this concept of grey shade law enforcement is tackled, the film is no short of the random misadventures of inspector Callahan thrown here and there to pad time, establish a tone and/or keep the main mystery exciting. Some of them works, others are cheesy for how odd they are, but they're there to entertain and entertain they did.

It also helps Callahan in this sequel is portrayed to be less angry than he is in Dirty Harry (1971), keeping it chill and even smiles a lot more despite getting the bad end of the stick or receiving a mouthful from Lt. Briggs or any higher officials. He takes his time to calculate his moves and even isn't shy on hinting a genuinely calm and humorous demeanor underneath his tough as nails personality.

All in all, whether you see it as an action flick or a potential proto-slasher, this is a movie that does little wrong but isn't guilty of missing an opportunity or two; some characters are introduced that could have been expanded (Harry's neighbor Sunny, who has the hots for the rugged cop, more or less just steps in to make love and almost be a victim of vigilantism) and the plot has its moments of simplicity in its approach that it's almost readable in its direction, but as a sequel, Magnum Force (1973) strives to move its predecessor further from being a sort-of fascist law enforcer flick and it succeeds to reasonable levels. Clint Eastwood shines well in this action-filled cop mystery, armed with his trusted .44 Magnum to put an end to a humongous killcount for our viewing pleasure!

Bodycount:
4 males shot to death
1 male shot
6 males and 5 females gunned down with a submachine gun
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 female poisoned with a drain cleaner
1 male shot to death
1 male shot
1 male shot to death
1 male shot to death
1 female repeatedly shot, crashes and falls off a building
1 male shot to death
1 male shot with a shotgun
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 male shot
1 male crashes his car through a crane, killed
1 male decimated by an explosive
1 male killed in vehicular collision
1 male had his throat beaten repeatedly
1 male tossed out of his motor bike and into a bay, drowned upon fall
1 male decimated by an explosive
Total: 38

Night Of The Swamp Things: Bloodstalkers (1976)

Bloodstalkers (1976) (AKA "The Night Daniel Died", "Blood Stalkers")
Rating: ***
Starring: Ken Miller, Toni Crabtree, Jerry Albert

Hicksploitation horror flicks have been out as early as the concept of evil rednecks touched the gritty reels of grindhouse cinema, with movies as gruesome as Herschell Lewis' Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964) and as intense as Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) molding it as a staple horror trope. Thus, it shouldn't come as a surprise that we often get dime a dozen of evil redneck movies until this day, with most of these good (or at least, watchable) hicksploitation flicks setting themselves from the bad ones by how it often breaks expectations.

Bloodstalkers (1976) is a decent example of this as it starts out with your typical backwoods horror trope; a pair of city folk couples driving to the stix for a weekend getaway, the locals either giving them the stink eye or warning them to drive back unless they want to get attacked by something called "Blood Stalkers". Spooky stuff, but the couple scoffs it off as nothing but yokel talk and drives down anyway to a lake cabin deep in the country woods, unaware that something horrid is skulking around and now eyeing them the moment they step foot in its turf.

After spending a large run of its time focusing on character interactions and the casts mucking around ala beer guzzling, canoodling and skinny dipping, it wasn't until nightfall when something strong, huge and feral decided to siege the cabin, forcing our city slickers to cower, fight back and then try finding ways to survive the night against what could be our titular "Bloodstalkers".

A definite proto-slasher, Bloodstalkers (1976) lacks the refine stalk-and-chase actions one would normally expect in a forest-set bodycounter despite having the grounds and set-up to be one. Instead, the movie dwindles around on being one part siege film, one part creature feature and then, without spoiling much, a backwoods revenge flick, the latter being the strongest time the movie touched the slasher-style kill count, racking up dead bodies by all means sharp and pointy.

It's far from a smooth production sadly, as not only does the editing and direction made some of the supposedly intense scenes look laughable and feel padded, but there's also barely any lighting from its night scenes, really showing the budgetary restraints this movie's roped in. Also, the uninteresting four main casts didn't help make the film any more memorable than what it is. Albeit far from horrendously bad, these characters are still as cookie cutter bare as the next drive-in grade horror victims would be. Nevertheless, Bloodstalkers (1976) still manages to be watchable for the little good things it did; with most of its first half centered between the two couples and their interactions, there's a workable slow burn to the tone and atmosphere that once the onscreen violence makes its show, the variety of kills and their okay-ish special effects made the wait well worth the time, especially when it comes with an insanely hammy reveal to what these "blood stalkers" really are and motive behind them.

For what it is, Bloodstalkers (1976) marginally works as a creature feature/hicksploitation hybrid that's flawed but is still an interesting watch, particularly within the fact that it sets some stepping stones to what would become our classic backwoods slashers. Not a solid recommendations, but if you get the chance to see it, treat yourself with some ham and cheese and enjoy the shlock!

Bodycount:
1 dog shot dead
1 female found hung upside down, throat slit
1 male found with a sickle through the neck
1 female found hacked on the chest with an axe
1 male shot with a shotgun
1 male hacked on the neck with a bowie knife
1 male impaled through the neck with a sickle
1 male hacked on the gut with an axe
1 male killed, method unknown
Total: 9

Dust Clod All Over Lost Gold: The Intruder (1975)

The Intruder (1975)
Rating: *1/2
Starring: Chris Robinson, Mickey Rooney, Yvonne De Carlo

Summoned to an island mansion by a host named Henry Peterson, relatives of Axel Luben were to secretly discuss with Peterson about splitting some gold he found from a plane that reportedly went down in Bogota, Columbia with Luben. The problem, however, is that Henry is nowhere to be found.

Understandably skeptical about the whole shindig, the ten people who turn up decided to keep a watchful eye on the place until their boat returns, believing that Peterson and/or a possibly still-living Luben are hiding in island somewhere and out to kill them all to keep the gold for themselves. True enough, someone is skulking around the island, murdering their only ride home and propping up the bodies of their victim to drive them insane. It isn't long before the group begins to suspect one another, go for each other's throats and the kill count rises the longer they stay in the island.

Basically a play on Agatha Christie's influential novel And Then There Were None, The Intruder (1975) sadly lacks any real excitement as a horror movie as this California-lensed lost film has lackluster mostly written all over itself. In fact, the only thing for me that sparks any sense of interest is the story behind the film's recovery, with its reel and title found some years back from a storage facility housing forgotten and abandoned film prints by Garagehouse Pictures’s Henry Guerro who, along with the rest of the world, never even knew its existence despite boasting Mickey Rooney, Yvonne De Carlo and Ted Cassidy as parts of its casts.

That and a random kung-fu fight at the middle of the movie, involving a rotund karate master and some other guy who's life and occupation failed to strike me as interesting.

As a proto-slasher, its hand-tossed mystery barely has any life in it, sleepily pacing its way through the running time and uninspired murders with much cheesy acting, over-dialogue and absence of vigor. It occasionally woos in some gothic atmosphere echoing Christie's book, though it hardly helps matter that the kills are also insipid, generally bloodless and tame all the way, thus still making the hobble a tiring and stale ride. Any good points left can be found within the film's posh cinematography and the insane level of cheese in its last act, this including the aforementioned kung-fu brawl out that ends hilariously in death and multiple twist reveals, one of which head-scratchingly coming out of nowhere.

Less a full blown slasher flick and more of a low-budget murder mystery, I really wanted to like The Intruder (1975) as a lost gem but the major play of the movie feels so much like a low-end production that I can't help but feel like burying the damn thing back into obscurity. Not a lot else to say about this; the story behind its resurfacing is a fun tidbit trivia for horror enthusiasts but the film itself can lay and rot in the Mojave desert for all I care.

Bodycount:
1 male had his head smashed against a window, body later found submerged in water
1 female found with throat cut
1 male found murdered
1 male found with throat wound, body hung upside down
1 male strangled, thrown off a window
1 male drowns in a lake
1 female drowned in a tub
2 males fall unto a pitchfork, impaled
1 male electrocuted via current
1 female falls off a speeding boat, drowned
1 male shot with a rifle
Total: 12

Saucy Jack: Hands Of The Ripper (1971)

Hands of The Ripper (United Kingdom, 1971)
Rating: ****
Starring:  Eric Porter, Angharad Rees, Jane Merrow

Lo and behold, the very movie that took my Hammer Films virginity!

A period horror flick set in the old Victorian times, we start off with none other than Jack the Ripper, chased by an angry mob wielding pitchforks and torches, giving his pursuers a slip by hiding inside a house after outrunning them. The home's occupants, in an early twist, turns out to be his own family, with his wife worriedly telling him that ole' ripper strikes again. She, however, soon puts two and two together when she finds her husband's hands covered in blood and sadly becomes another victim for the killer, stabbed in front of their own infant daughter, Anna.

Forwarding fifteen years later, we now see that Anna was orphaned after the ordeal and adopted by Mrs. Goldling, a "medium" who uses the girl to voice the spirits she supposedly conjures up, as well as use her to earn extra incomes via paid trysts from older clients. One of the latter services goes awry one night when Anna, seemingly triggered by something from the past, goes berserk and manages to impale Goldling through a door after she heard a ruckus.

The murder is quickly looked into but finds itself on a bind due to lack of proper witnesses as Anna herself has no memory of the incident. She is eventually rescued from prison and taken in by a Dr. John Pritchard, who was present during one of Goldling's seances and believes that Anna is suffering from Schizophrenia, taking this as an opportunity to both study and help her.  Of course, with an unstable trigger taking hold of her now and then, it isn't long before Anna murders as an empty void of violence, leaving a trail of bodies on her wake while Dr. Pritchard tries his hardest to remove her from the deaths and find a way to cure her condition before it is all too late.

Made and released around the time Hammer Films was experimenting with their horror movies in terms of sleaze and gore, Hands of The Ripper comfortably walks between the lines of gruesome exploitation and atmospheric realism, with a few hops around classic Gothic imagery the studio's quite known for. What works best for the movie, though, is its strong narrative delving in the topic of science against paranormal with the doctor Prichard character spending most of his time pondering on the possibility that Anna is suffering from a (in this movie's timeline) still being studied mental condition of schizophrenia. This interest in figuring out the psychosis soon grows increasingly concerning for the character as he eventually faces the dilemma of covering up or just flat out walking out on the increasing death toll his new ward is causing for the sake of making Freud proud and figure out why she does what she does, much to the concern of his colleagues and, at the end, his son and his future daughter-in-law.

This psychoanalytical and moral high ground-questioning angle cleverly gave way for the movie to exploit the severity of Anna's shattered psyche as a few maids and some prostitutes savagely gets the sharp end of things with a lot of blood work and some cheesy set-pieces that often clashes with the serious tone of the more medically-inclined scenes. These kills, nevertheless, showcase some of the best murders from a proto-slasher, many of which violent and pleasingly graphic in detail, and direct the story to some fairly suspenseful scenes that may or may not go along the way you expected.

I guess any real drawbacks here would be the few times that the movie took itself a little too seriously and borders into period drama, messing up the already imbalanced mix of ham and sophistication a tad further only to be remedied by either a good kill or good writing within its solid supporting casts, giving the story that right amount of plausibility. Production-wise, Hands of The Ripper is just amazing to look at with its superb old Victorian sets perfect for back-dropping murder mysteries such as this, highlighting the lavish good of high end bringing, the gloomy desperation of slum work and the grey area between the two. Add a downbeat last act with an even saddening finale (fittingly and wonderfully scored by a then-unknown Christopher Gunning if I may further concur), the movie just ties and presents itself quite nicely as an early jab on the slasher sub-genre, one horror fans could sought for.

My final verdict? Hands of The Ripper (1971) is a fine film for the horror market that deserves our attention for the fair goods it delivers, from budget-surpassing production work to unrelenting streaks of violence. A seemingly near-forgotten gem overshadowed by the Dracula and Frankenstein titles Hammer horror films are known for, its high time we give this movie about Jack The Ripper's estranged daughter a chance for a view or even a spot for our collection.

Bodycount:
1 female stabbed on the gut with a dagger
1 female found impaled through a door with a firepoker
1 female had her throat cut with a broken hand mirror
1 female stabbed on the face with hat pins
1 female stabbed on the gut with a pair of lorgnettes
1 female jumps to her death
1 male dies from a sword-stabbed side
Total: 7