The Devil Made Them Do It—the Three Movies that Defined the Satanic Scares of the ‘70s

 

Beginning in the late 1950s, the relaxation of censorship laws governing motion pictures, as well as an increasing sophistication on the part of audiences, a number of newer topics and themes began to be explored in American cinema, especially in the Horror genre.  One of the most popular and persistent involved Satanism, Witchcraft, and Demonology.  There were a scattering of such films between 1958 and 1968, but after the end of the Production Code in 1967, the subgenre virtually exploded, and the 1970s became, in many ways, the decade of the Devil in film. 

There were many such films produced after 1967.  A few became classics—The Sentinel (1977), Inferno (1980), The Wicker Man (1973), or Suspira (1977).  Some were okay—Race with the Devil (1975), El Diablo se Lleva los Muertos –aka— Lisa and the Devil (1974), or To the Devil a Daughter (1976).  Most were just bad.  Movies such as Ruby (1977), Abby (1974), or Simon, King of the Witches (1971), while undeniably inferior movies, still packed audiences into Drive-Ins and Grindhouses.

Three films, however, would stand out from the crowd, and be recognized as outstanding examples of filmmaking, and not just in the Horror genre.  These would be Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, released in 1968; William Friedkin’s The Exorcist, in 1973; and Richard Donner’s The Omen, from 1976.  Together, they would come to symbolize the Satanic films of the ‘70s.

While Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby wasn’t the first Horror film with satanic themes (1913’s The Student of Prague, directed by Stellan Rye, probably holds that distinction), it was one of the first to take advantage of the newfound realism of the late ‘60s cinema.  Prior to Polanski’s groundbreaking film, themes of Satanism, Devil Worship, Witchcraft, and Cults were approached with caution by Hollywood, if at all.  The Production Code, put into place by the Hays Office in 1930 in an effort by the studios to avoid official censorship, was fully in control by 1934, severely restricting the content of motion pictures.  Though depictions of Satanism or Devil-Worship weren’t specifically forbidden under the code, the major studios were generally unwilling to approach, much less push, the boundaries set by the Hays Office.

One of the last Satanically-themed films produced before the Production Code took full effect was Edgar Ulmer’s 1934 classic The Black Cat, by Universal.  With overt themes of satanic worship and implied necrophilia and virgin sacrifice, it would have been impossible to release just a year later.  As it was, studio executives ordered the film to be cut in order to lessen the violence and horror, while allowing Ulmer to slip some of the movie’s most decadent bits past them.

In 1943, working within the confines of the Code, RKO Pictures produced The Seventh Victim, directed by Mark Robson and produced by Val Lewton, RKO’s hired gun brought in to compete with Universal’s Horror franchise.  The film concerned a young woman’s search for her missing sister, and her discovery that her sister was a member of a Satanic cult.  Though in my opinion it’s the best of the Horror films Lewton created for RKO, a very ham-fisted job of editing meant that the theatrical release was a confusing mess, and it did poorly at the box office.

The Production Code was officially in place until 1967, though in reality numerous factors had been whittling away at it for many years prior to that date.  First, the code only applied to films produced in the US.  While other nations’ cinemas had their own censorship issues to deal with, those tended to be more politically, rather than morally, oriented.

The second circumstance that led to the downfall of the Production Code was that, with increasing rapidity, Courts were conferring greater and greater protection to motion pictures under the aegis of the First Amendment.  The Supreme Court, in 1915, had ruled that motion pictures were a business, not art, and thus weren’t protected speech under the First Amendment.  However, that view had been shifting since the early 1950s, coinciding with the end of the Studio System.  As local censorship laws began to be struck down, there was increasing pressure on the Supreme Court to revisit their earlier decision, to bring order out of the patchwork quilt of censorship laws which covered the nation.

Third, and most importantly, the Code was entirely voluntary.  The major studios were the only ones bothering to abide by the code, and were the least interested in fighting censorship.  That fight was left to the independent Exploitation filmmakers, those who fought a constant battle with local censors for the right to exhibit their wares.  It was they who dragged the majors, kicking and screaming, into the modern era, which rendered the Production Code an archaic afterthought.

As the code began to crack and come apart, Satanically-themed films began to appear sporadically at Drive-Ins and Conventional theatres.  One of the best of this era was a British import, based on the M. R. James novel “Casting the Runes,” and directed by Jacques Tourneur.  Night of the Demon, released in the US as Curse of the Demon, was heavily edited prior to its theatrical release (approximately twelve minutes were cut); in its original form, it was a well-written and –directed, if at times slow paced, Horror film.  Literate, mature, and intelligent, it was the framework upon which the best of the Devil-Worship films were constructed.

Ten years after Night of the Demon hit theatres, low-budget Horror producer/director William Castle brought a project he was interested in developing to Robert Evans at Paramount.  Castle had gotten the advance galley proofs of a new novel by Ira Levin entitled Rosemary’s Baby from the book’s publisher, Random House.  Evans loved the story, and could see its potential as a feature film.  His only stipulation involved William Castle.  Well aware of the latter’s reputation for camp and gimmickry, Evans said that he could produce the film, but he wanted another director to helm the project.  They gave the job to an up-and-coming Polish filmmaker who was developing a solid reputation in Europe. 

Roman Polanski, then thirty-five, had just filmed a supposed Horror-Comedy, The Fearless Vampire Killers, released in the US by MGM (I say “supposed” because in my opinion it fails at both genres).  Polanski, best known for his 1965 film Repulsion, which had drawn critical praise, seemed a good fit for Rosemary’s Baby, at its core a psychological horror similar in tone to Repulsion.  And with the increased freedom following the demise of the Production Code, Polanski had the opportunity to make the first truly serious, mature Horror film.

Despite my personal animus towards Polanski as a person, which I have written of prior to this, I will give him his due as a talented director.  And Rosemary’s Baby might be his best film; certainly his best early work.  With a cast led by Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes, Polanski crafted a slow, suspenseful build-up to a shocking ending.  Critics loved it.  Moviegoers loved it.  And Hollywood took notice, and began developing similar properties in order to cash in. 

In the wake of the blockbuster success of Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, every studio, from the Hollywood Majors to low-budget exploiteers, wanted their own Satanic, demonic, or cult-themed film.  That’s the nature of the business; one innovates, everyone else imitates.  Within a year or two, Horror films involving witches, covens, and Devil-Worshippers were a standard trope in low-budget Horror films.  Matthew Hopkins, Witchfinder General, directed by Michael Reeves and starring Vincent Price, actually beat the Polanski film into theaters, at least in Great Britain.  Though not strictly speaking a Horror film (though it was marketed as such, especially in the US where it was retitled The Conqueror Worm, after an Edgar Allan Poe poem), it nonetheless demonstrates that such topics were beginning to permeate the zeitgeist.

1971 saw an explosion of such movies, and titles such as The Brotherhood of Satan, The Mephisto Waltz, Tombs of the Blind Dead, and The Devil’s Nightmare were popular low-budget entries into the genre.  Similar films would be released in 1972, including Daughters of Satan and Horror Rises from the Tomb.  But it would be 1973 before the majors came back to the subject of demonic movies, and when they did, it would be with a vengeance. 

In 1971, author William Peter Blatty, inspired by a 1949 case of reported demonic possession, published a novel telling the story of a young girl, tormented by such a occurrence, and two Catholic priests who fight to save her soul from a demon.  The Exorcist was a runaway best-seller in print form, and it was only a matter of time before it was adapted for the screen.  Warner Bros. purchased the film rights to the book, and chose William Friedkin, coming off directing The French Connection, winner of five Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director, to helm it. 

With a script by Blatty, the author of the source novel; a cast comprised of veteran actors such as Max Von Sydow and Lee J. Cobb, lesser-known performers like Ellen Burstyn and Mercedes McCambridge, and a host of unknowns, such as Linda Blair and Jason Miller; and armed with a budget of $12 million, Friedkin crafted the definitive movie about demonic possession, one that would earn nearly $450 million at the Box Office, as well as ten Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay.  It won two, including Best Adapted Screenplay for Blatty’s script.  It is still regarded by many to be the most frightening Horror film ever.  And every studio and independent producer wanted to duplicate it.

Seemingly overnight theaters and Drive-Ins were swamped with demons and devils, witches and warlocks.  Time magazine might have declared God dead, but Satan was alive and well and living in Hollywood.  As is often the case with efforts to capitalize on a newly burgeoning trend in Hollywood, most of these low-budget Exploitation film takes on the subject weren’t very good.  However Italian and Spanish filmmakers, with deep roots in Catholic theological tradition, generally fared better with these themes, perhaps as an expression of rebellion against the cultural domination on the part of the Church in those countries.  In particular, a Spanish director named Jesús Franco showed a marked antipathy towards the Church, so much so that the Vatican declared him, along with fellow Spaniard Luis Buñuel, the most dangerous filmmakers in the world.

Sometime in 1973, Bob Munger, a friend of producer Harvey Bernhard, suggested to the latter that a movie about the Antichrist, the son of Satan, would be good box office.  Bernhard agreed, and immediately hired David Seltzer to turn the idea into a screenplay.  Seltzer, who had gotten his start in the business with an uncredited rewrite of Roald Dahl’s script for Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, took a year to finish the assignment, but when it was completed, everyone connected with the project felt that The Omen would be a winner.  Richard Donner, an experienced film and television director, was selected to helm the project for Warner Bros.

Starring Gregory Peck, Lee Remick, and David Warner, the story concerns an American diplomat and his wife, whose adopted son turns out to be the Antichrist foretold in the Book of Revelations.  Just as Rosemary’s Baby dealt with Satan from what might be described as a secular viewpoint, and The Exorcist was a study in Catholic theological dogma, The Omen was grounded in the Protestant Fundamentalist views on Armageddon and the Apocalypse.  This becomes more noticeable when one considers that most of the Catholic clergy are depicted as being in league with the Devil, certainly a Protestant prejudice.  Though the film failed to garner the critical praise that had been heaped upon the previous two linchpins of the subgenre, it was a box office hit, earning $61 million on a budget of $2.8 million.

As the Slasher films began to dominate the Horror genre in the late 1970s, the Satanic films waned in popularity, though never completely disappearing.  In the decades since, they have remained a staple of the Horror fan’s diet, holding their own against the vampires, ghosts, aliens, and zombies that populate modern Horror films.  I don’t see that changing anytime soon—after all, the battle between Good and Evil is as old as Mankind itself.

Something Weird on the Screen: The Wild, Bizarre and Wacky World of Scare-Your-Children Movies, Exploitation Shorts and Stag Films

As I may have mentioned a time or two (or forty …) in this column, I love cheesy movies … the cheesier, the better, especially if it cost less than the price of a new car to produce.  Give me a movie that’s the celluloid counterpart of a twenty-pound block of Velveeta®, something that could put a deathgrip on King Kong’s colon, and was done on the cheap, and you have one happy Unimonster.  And from THE BLOB to BUBBA HO-TEP, no type of film does low-budget cheese better than the Genre film—specifically the five associated genres of Horror, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Fantasy, and Exploitation.

Why is it that I enjoy these types of movies so much more than their mega-buck Hollywood blockbuster cousins?  Well, one answer is lowered expectations.  When a major studio pours $180 million into a picture, it had damn well better make me stand up and cheer; anything less is just a disappointment.  Movies such as INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL, HELLBOY 2: THE GOLDEN ARMY, or THE DARK KNIGHT demand huge budgets, but the finished product is well worth the filmmakers’ investment.  But when a big-budget film flops, it’s usually a disaster of biblical proportions, sometimes ending the careers of those involved.  The best-known example of this was 1980’s HEAVEN’S GATE, the boring, bloated, Box-Office bomb that sank the career of heretofore-promising director Michael Cimino.  With a budget that ballooned to five times the original estimate, and a running time that was north of three-and-a-half hours, it was Box-Office death, earning less than three-and-a-half million on a thirty-five million dollar investment.  However, when no one expects anything from a movie, it’s hard to be disappointed.

And that brings me to another reason for my love of cheap movies … they’re so much more entertaining.  Let’s face facts—most people go to the movies to be entertained.  Not enlightened, not educated, not indoctrinated … simply to relax and have a good time.  That’s hard to do when the director is trying to beat some socially relevant message into your head; even harder when the beating lasts for three or more hours.  There are people who enjoy that sort of thing; there are also people who prefer tofu to rib-eye.  I have little use for either sort of person.

I for one want entertainment from the movies I watch.  If I want enlightenment, I play golf.  If I want education, I read a book.  And I scrupulously try to avoid indoctrination.  All I seek from my hard-earned movie-buying dollar is a couple of hours of mindless entertainment… not a disguised thought exercise.  I don’t think I differ greatly from the average movie fan in that regard, either.  The average movie fan just wants a little something to take him or her out of their mundane, everyday existence—something that they can’t get in their normal lives.  Sometimes that’s a thrilling adventure yarn, sometimes a historical drama, and sometimes, it’s something just a little further afield.  Something strange, something unusual, something… weird.

For nearly two decades, there’s been a small company catering to those of us who share a love of the cinematic equivalent of a ripe wedge of Roquefort, movies that define the term, “So bad it’s good …”  Something Weird Video is precisely that—something weird, indeed anything weird, that has been captured on film or video.

Say you have a fondness for 1950’s vintage High School hygiene films … SWV has you covered.  You consider yourself a fan of the films of Harry Novak?  They've got what you’re looking for.  Need a Bettie Page or Tempest Storm stag reel for your next bachelor party?  Something Weird is the place for that, and virtually every other type of low-brow, low-class, and low-budget film you can imagine.

Founded in 1990 by Mike Vraney, SWV has grown into a major distributor of classic, and unusual, genre films.  They also specialize in the type of short films that collector’s love, but that every other distributor ignores.  Industrial films, propaganda films, educational films—name an obscure form of video, and chances are they have it in stock.  From a 1959 film produced by the Kansas State Board of Health on the dangers of Syphilis, to ‘60’s-vintage Police training films on how to spot signs of marijuana use, to a promotional film put out by Karo Syrup entitled THE ENCHANTED POT, virtually every taste and interest is catered to by the company.  But by far, their stock in trade is the good, old-fashioned, Exploitation Film.

Precursor to both the Grindhouse films of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, and the X-Rated adult features of the ‘70’s and ‘80’s, Exploitations became big business as the silent era transitioned into sound.  A small group of producer/distributors, part con-men, part Hollywood mogul, and with a stiff measure of carnival huckster thrown in, came to dominate the Exploitation circuits, playing in dingy downtown theaters and out-of-the-way rural Drive-Ins.  Known collectively as “the Forty Thieves”, these showmen traveled the country exhibiting their films to curious crowds, always promising the raw, uncensored, unvarnished truth about a myriad of social ills, from child marriage to the dangers of sexual promiscuity and drug abuse… and delivering just enough to keep the rubes and yokels happy.

The Exploitations were the cinematic equivalent of a traveling sideshow; talk up the crowds, get them excited about whatever symptom of moral decay was the topic of that week’s film, get them to lay down their money for a ticket, and then give them pretty much what they were expecting—a little entertainment, a little skin, a little naughtiness, all wrapped up in a package that they could regard with a sense of moral outrage and indignation—while secretly wishing that they themselves could indulge in some of that naughtiness.

The kings of the Exploitation circuits made fortunes with these films, often recycling them over and over by splicing new title cards into the prints, or by trading them to other distributors in exchange for films that had already worn out their welcome on other circuits.  Names like Kroger Babb, Dave Friedman, and Dan Sonney might mean little today, but in their era, and in their arena, they were as powerful and influential as Samuel Goldwyn, Darryl F. Zanuck, or Walt Disney.  They were the moguls of Exploitation; the men who worked beyond Hollywood’s pale, creating films no “respectable” distributor would dare touch.  In the ‘40’s and ‘50’s, they, and others like them, fought for an end to censorship of motion pictures and increased freedom for filmmakers, even if ‘mainstream’ filmmakers looked down their collective nose at them.

As the ‘50’s gave way to the ‘60’s, the Exploitations began to change.  The moral message that had been such a prominent part of the “Road Show” era of Exploitation films fell by the wayside as the courts struck down, one by one, the draconian censorship laws on the motion picture industry.  Without the need to justify their more salacious or risqué content, a new breed of filmmakers, people such as Harry Novak, Doris Wishman, and Mike and Roberta Findlay began producing a new breed of Exploitation film.

These were truly exploitative films, lacking any pretense of cultural or educational value.  From Wishman’s ‘Nudie Cuties’ to Herschell G. Lewis’ gore-filled horrors, the early ‘60’s were an explosion of new trends in movies, and those on the leading edge of those trends were the Exploitation filmmakers.  The same year that audiences were shocked by the sight of Janet Leigh dressed only in her undergarments following an afternoon tryst in PSYCHO, moviegoers in New York City’s 42^nd Street grindhouses were watching Wishman’s NUDE ON THE MOON, a Sci-Fi “epic” filmed at a Florida nudist colony.  Three years before Peter Fonda starred in the landmark film EASY RIDER, he starred in a not-so-vaguely similar movie, THE WILD ANGELS, directed by Roger Corman for American-International Pictures.

But the Exploitations would go where Hollywood dared not follow, and do so in ways that the major studios wouldn’t think of emulating.  At a time when Hollywood was still struggling to come to terms with homosexuality, racism, drug abuse, and a rapidly changing cultural landscape, the Exploitations were treating all of these topics in an open, frank manner… even if that treatment was less than honest—or flattering.  These were key themes for the “grindhouse” cinema, the infamous strip of theaters along 42^nd Street in Manhattan.  A few blocks away might be the bright lights of Broadway, but here all was darkness and shadow, and it was populated by those who shunned the light.  The grindhouses of “The Deuce,” as the strip was christened by authors Bill Landis and Michelle Clifford in their book, Sleazoid Express: A Mind-Twisting Tour through the Grindhouse Cinema of Times Square, were where the Exploitation film reached it’s zenith.  There you could find an endless variety of perversion and prurient delights… if you were willing to risk your wallet, or perhaps your life, for the experience.

While those who frequented the theaters that made up the “Deuce” profess fond memories of the experience, the truth is slightly different.  The grindhouse area was, in fact, a filthy, crime-ridden, two-by-eight block section of the city that was a breeding ground for prostitution, assault, robbery, and disease.  The only reason fans of these movies traveled to such a blighted zone was because that was the only place that you could see these films… and despite their low-quality and frequently tasteless subject matter, many of these films were worth seeking out.

New York City’s efforts to remake it’s public image led to the end of the “Deuce,” as theater after theater was razed upon the altar of ‘urban renewal’.  For the most part the fans of Exploitations weren't displeased … with the growth of Home Video and the newfound freedom to watch whatever you might choose in the privacy of your own home, why brave the dimly-lit alleyways of 42^nd Street?  And as Hollywood’s standards changed, the line between what was “mainstream” and what wasn’t began, first to blur, then to vanish altogether.  This began as early as 1969 when an X-Rated film, John Schlesinger’s MIDNIGHT COWBOY, won the Oscar® for Best Picture.  Ironically, this film examined the lives of two Times Square hustlers played by Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, and their struggle to survive as denizens of the “Deuce.”  This led to a spate of semi-respectable adult films—DEEP THROAT and BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR were two notable titles—that were shown in first-run theaters.  With Hollywood now free to explore many of the topics that were previously the sole province of the Exploitation filmmakers, many of them moved into the final stage in the life cycle of the Exploitation filmmaker—hardcore pornography—and the true Exploitation film died a slow, lingering death.  But the movies that made up the more than five decades of the Exploitation period haven’t died, though it was only the efforts of a dedicated few who kept the memory of these films alive, people like Mike Vraney, Bill Landis, Michelle Clifford, Dave Friedman, Harry Novak, and others who have worked to preserve these films, and history of the Exploitation Cinema.

While it’s easy to dismiss these movies as trashy, lewd, and without redeeming value, I believe that is far too harsh a judgment.  Yes, these films were trashy, designed primarily to titillate and tease their audiences … and to that, I say, “So what?”  Could not the same be said for most of the motion picture industry?  The goal of producers and distributors hasn't changed since Edison screened his GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY in the 1890’s—to put asses in seats—at whatever ticket price the market would bear.  If the Exploitation filmmakers hadn't given the movie-going public what they wanted, then they wouldn’t have accomplished this.  And if they hadn't accomplished the task of selling tickets, then they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they did.  Trashy—yes.  Lewd, lascivious, exploitive, prurient, pandering, coarse, vulgar, bawdy … yes, they were all of the above.

But they were also entertaining.  Sometimes that’s good enough.  Sometimes, that’s just what you’re in the mood for.  And thanks to Mike Vraney and his Something Weird Video, we can indulge that mood whenever it strikes.  And not in some run-down, flea-ridden, rat-infested den of iniquity with a movie screen, but in the comfort of our own homes.

DVD Review: THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT Unrated Collector’s Edition

Title:  THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT Unrated Collector’s Edition

Year of Release—Film:  1972

Year of Release—DVD:  2008

DVD Label:  M-G-M / 20^th Century Fox Home Entertainment

Recently, critics have been guilty of overusing the term “Grindhouse”, referencing any film about which they wish to convey a sense of excessive gore or violence.  In the 1960’s and ‘70’s, however, there were films that earned that appellation honestly; indeed films that made the Grindhouse theaters a necessity.  Perhaps the most famous such film was Wes Craven’s 1972 thriller THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT.  Filmed on the cheap by Craven and friend Sean Cunningham, their stated goal was to shock the audience with over-the-top gore and violence, as realistically as possible.  They accomplished that goal.

Though not as relentlessly abusive to the viewer as Meir Zarchi’s similar-themed I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE (1978), it’s far from a pleasant film to watch.  The plot is simple:  A group of criminals, led by Krug Stillo, (David Hess) takes two young girls captive and heads out into the woods.  Their car breaks down, and they decide it’s a good spot to finish off their hostages and dump the bodies.  After the girls are tortured, raped and murdered, the killers seek shelter at the home of the Collingwoods, the only house in the area.  What the Stillo gang doesn’t know, to their detriment, is that it’s the home of Mari, one of the young girls they just viciously slaughtered.  When the parents of the murdered girl discover what has happened, and who was responsible, they go on a rampage of violence, one that makes the murder of the two girls pale in comparison.

Given the meager budget Craven was working with, and the absolute lack of name talent associated with the film, the accomplishment is notable.  The story is direct, engaging, and original… at least, it was when Ingmar Bergman filmed THE VIRGIN SPRING in 1959.  Craven lifted the bones of the plot from the far more literate and artistic Swedish film, gave them an update, and tossed in a full measure of ultra-realistic violence and a few quarts of fake blood.  The result was a qualified success.  It certainly met Craven’s goal of a film that would shock audiences, though that task was demonstrably easier in 1972.  Where Craven failed, though perhaps that’s too strong a word, is in creating a film that works as entertainment.  The film is too graphic, too gritty, and has far too much of a Cinema Verite feel to be truly entertaining.  But it is skillfully constructed; even at this early date, Craven’s potential is obvious.  The only note that rings false is the comedy relief Sheriff and Deputy.  Comic relief has no place in a film of this type; either remain true to the darkness of the film’s subject, or lighten it up overall.

It is pleasing to this reviewer that the distributors used a very nice looking print for this release.  Those who are familiar with this film primarily from aging VHS tapes will appreciate the improved quality.  Still, when you begin with what is essentially a no-budget student film, no amount of restoration will transform it into a thing of beauty.  The biggest improvement over the VHS release, at least, the copy in the Unimonster’s collection, is the sound.  Muddy and distorted on VHS, it’s actually understandable on this DVD.

Included on this release are several special features worth noting.  Extra footage has been included in the film itself, which is the reason for the “Unrated” status.  Nothing that really alters the film, just serves to lengthen and intensify the violence… as though it needed that.  Two features that are needed, and are very interesting, are a pair of documentaries featuring director Wes Craven.  Craven, who in the decades following the release of LAST HOUSE… has become the most influential horror director extant, discusses both the making of the original and the 2009 remake, directed by Dennis Iliadis.  Also included is an unfinished short film by Craven, TALES THAT WILL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT.

While this will never be the first film I’ll take off the shelf for a relaxing evening’s viewing, it is an important film that every Horror fan should be familiar with, and every Craven fan should own.  I suggest a definite rental if you’re the former; a buy if the latter.

These are a Few of my Favorite Things (and neither The Sound of Music nor Julie Andrews is on the list) by the Unimonster

When writers spend a great deal of time on one topic, whether it is Horror films, or food, or sports, they tend to focus on things that annoy or upset them.  It’s natural; most people are predisposed to complain, rather than to praise.  Speaking for myself, I often find it easier to make clear what I didn't like about a movie, than to explain what I did.  Ask me what was wrong with the Nicholas Cage version of The Wicker Man, and you’d better have a sizable hole in your schedule.  Ask me why Robin Hardy’s original film was so good, and while I could go on just as long, I can also sum it up in one sentence: “A director’s perfect vision, perfectly executed by the perfect performers for their roles.”

Occasionally however, it is nice to highlight those movies, objects, or people that make Horror and Sci-Fi fandom such an enjoyable hobby.  There’s a reason millions of people go to see the latest slasher films, or buy their eighth copy of Army of Darkness just to make sure they have every video release, or attend Horror conventions to get a treasured poster signed by someone who was essentially an extra in their favorite film.  They, like the Unimonster, love this hobby, and seek their own ways to express that love.  These are some of mine.

 

1.)  American Horror Story:  While AMC’s The Walking Dead is without a doubt the best Horror series on television, my personal tastes have always leaned more to the supernatural forms of horror.  Yes, gut-munching zombies are fine, and no one does a better job of bringing them to life than Greg Nicotero, but for pure horror on the small screen, the three seasons of AHS—Murder House, Asylum, and Coven—are far more effective.

2.)  Horror Hosts:  Though the heyday of the Hosted Horror show is forty years in the past, there are a dedicated groups of fans that refuse to let those days fade completely from the scene, and a corps of corpses (figuratively speaking, of course) who are just as dedicated to carrying on the tradition of visiting us in our homes through the airwaves (well, Wi-Fi at least), and guiding us through the night with classic, and not-so-classic, horror films.  Svengoolie, Karlos Borloff, Penny Dreadful, and Count Gore De Vol are just a few of the many who help us celebrate the memories of days gone by.

3.)  Epic Rap Battles of History:  Okay, I know that this is a weird one, even for me, and some might wonder just what comedic rap battle videos on Youtube have to do with the world of Horror and Science-Fiction.  However, when you have such battles as Back to the Future’s Doc Brown rapping against Doctor Who, Batman vs. Sherlock Holmes, and an epic trilogy featuring Darth Vader taking on Adolf Hitler, well … it’s both genre-related, and hilarious enough to have me rolling on the floor in laughter.  Considering the new ‘season’ just kicked off with Rick Grimes battling Walter White, it seems safe to say that ERB will continue to be one of my favorites.

4.)  Conventions:  While our hobby is usually centered on the glowing phosphors shining out from our living room televisions, there’s much to be said for gathering in large numbers with like-minded people, in the fellowship of Horror / Sci-Fi fandom.  The chance to see old friends, to experience new areas of fandom, and to score new collectibles celebrating your favorite films, all are great reasons to seek out and participate in Horror conventions.  For the Unimonster, it means a time to recharge my batteries, to renew my love of everything Horror.  Oh, and new books and T-shirts … it’s not a successful con unless I leave with at least one new reference book and one new horror tee!

5.)  Kaijû:  While I love giant bugs and monsters in general, the Kaijû of Japan’s Toho studios are by far my favorites.  Godzilla, Ghidorah, Rodan, Mothra, and the rest have been friends and companions of the Unimonster almost from infancy.  Near constant exposure during the late ’60s-early ‘70s completely inoculated me with a love of foam rubber monsters stomping miniature Japanese cities to rubble.  Forty years on, that love is still going strong, and with new offerings such as last year’s Pacific Rim and Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla [see review below] scoring huge at the box office, it’s apparent that I’m not the only one who feels that way.

6.)  Comic Book Movies:  Comic books have always been a passion of mine, and the fact that Hollywood is now embracing them as well, combined with the technology that allows filmmakers to convincingly create worlds as diverse as Asgaard, Oa, Krypton, and Sin City, makes this the best era ever for the Comic Book Movie.  And with the upcoming Batman / Superman film set to go head to head against the second Avengers film, things can only get better.

7.)  1970s Exploitation Film Pressbooks:  Collecting ephemera (advertising paper, posters, lobby cards, etc.) from our favorite films can be a great way to celebrate and display your love of movies, but it can be expensive.  An original 1954 one-sheet poster for Universal’s Creature from the Black Lagoon is worth about $25,000, and a Frankenstein Meets the Wolf-Man lobby card approximately $10,000.  Pressbooks, however, can generally be had for a fraction of that, around $30-50.  And what, you may ask, are pressbooks?  Pressbooks are the advertising circulars the film distributors sent out to theaters and drive-ins giving them the information they needed to properly promote the films they would be exhibiting.  From the pressbook, they could select which posters and lobby cards to order, select newspaper ads, and order radio and television spots.  They are fascinating documents, a look behind the screen, so to speak, into the world of the motion picture business.  My personal favorites are from the 1970s, the pressbooks of the exploitation films that fed drive-ins and grindhouses with the movies that kept the fans coming back.  My collection may be small, but it’ll continue to grow … without wiping out my meager budget.

There are many more things I could add to this list, but this will do … for now.  At least, until I find something new that becomes a favorite of mine.

Unimonster's Drive-In Classics - Roger Corman’s Cult Classics—Nurses Collection Box Set: Candy Stripe Nurses; Night Call Nurses; Private Duty Nurses; The Young Nurses

Title:  Roger Corman’s Cult Classics—Nurses Collection Box Set: Candy Stripe Nurses; Night Call Nurses; Private Duty Nurses; The Young Nurses

Year of Release—Film:  1974; 1972; 1971; 1973

Year of Release—DVD:  2012

DVD Label:  Shout! Factory

Reviewer:  Unimonster

Anyone who is a fan of the CBS comedy series How I Met Your Mother is familiar with the theory expounded by Barney Stinson, played by Neil Patrick Harris, that in every era there is a profession towards which hot young women naturally gravitate.  In the early 1970s, there were two such professions—stewardesses (not flight attendants, that would come later), and nurses.  And true to form, both professions were frequently the subject of Exploitation films.

Roger Corman, the master of the low-budget movie, was never one to miss a trend, and often initiated them.  Such was the case when his newly formed New World Pictures chose as its first release in 1970 The Student Nurses, directed by Stephanie Rothman.  The movie did well enough to lead Corman to produce at least four more such films, and in 2012 these four were released in another of Shout! Factory’s excellent series of Roger Corman’s Cult Classics DVD sets.

Corman’s formula for these films was a simple one—take three or four beautiful young nurses, give each a plotline to follow, which would typically be something trendy or politically topical.  One girl would be the sweetheart, either innocent or slutty, looking for Mr. Right, or just Mr. Right Now.  One would be highly intelligent, usually more so than the doctors, and anxious to prove it; and the third girl would be the radical, representing the liberal feminist and racial themes that were close to both Cormans’—Roger and his wife Julie, who was producer on these movies—hearts.  Stir in generous helpings of sex, nudity, and action, and these movies were guaranteed box-office gold.

Private Duty Nurses (1971)

The earliest film in the set (one wishes that The Student Nurses had been included); this was the weakest of the four films, in my opinion.  It lacks many of the elements that one would expect to find in this kind of movie, namely copious amounts of female nudity, some measure of humor, and any semblance of a coherent plot—much less three of them.

Written and directed by George Armitage, what story there is in the movie is focused on the male counterparts to our three leading ladies—Spring (Kathy Cannon), who gets involved with a Vietnam vet with a death wish; Lynn (Pegi Boucher), who falls for a married ambulance attendant whom she meets when she finds a dead body on the beach; and Lola (Joyce Williams), who is dating a black doctor who’s the victim of discriminatory practices at the hospital where the girls work.

In the hands of a more competent director, there’s enough meat on these bones to flesh out a decent movie.  However, the women in the cast are given little to do except stand in the background, look pretty, listen to the men speak their lines, and (not nearly enough to save this movie) take their clothes off.  Not only does the lack of focus on the titular leads hurt this movie, but it’s by far the most political of the films, with the viewer constantly pummeled by the big three of the early 1970s causes—Vietnam, Racial Unrest, and the Environment.  That couldn't have been very entertaining in 1971; it definitely isn't now.

Night Call Nurses (1972)

Following on the heels of Private Duty Nurses, Jonathan Kaplan’s Night Call Nurses corrected some of the flaws present in the earlier film.  Kaplan, who was recommended to the Cormans by Martin Scorsese, was given a great degree of freedom by Corman.  He was allowed to rewrite the script, cast the movie, and edit the finished product—a massive amount of responsibility for a 25-year-old making his directorial debut.  The only part that was cast when Kaplan came on board was that of Janis, to be played by Alana Collins, the future former Mrs. George Hamilton and Rod Stewart—not at the same time.

Barbara (Patti T. Byrne), Sandra (Mittie Lawrence), and Janis are nurses in a psychiatric ward at an inner-city hospital.  Innocent young Barbara, under pressure from her boyfriend to conquer her sexual hang-ups and consummate their relationship, is seeing a sex therapist (Clint Kimbrough, who a year later would direct The Young Nurses) who has an unprofessional interest in the girl.  She soon becomes aware that she is being stalked—by a mysterious figure in a nurse’s uniform.

Janis, meanwhile, has become infatuated with a truck driver who has been in the hospital treating his addiction to amphetamine.  He claims that he only takes it in order to do his job, and that without it he can’t meet his schedules.  She takes him under her care—in more ways than one.

While this has been taking place, Sandra has been approached by a black militant seeking to get a message through to the leader of his movement, currently in the hospital’s jail ward after an alleged suicide attempt in prison.  At first resistant, Sandra soon becomes embroiled in a plan to free the prisoner.

Narrowly losing out to Candy Stripe Nurses as the best of Corman’s ‘Nurse’ films, despite having a weaker cast and script, the movie’s quality, what there is of it, can be ascribed to Kaplan’s ability as director.  The only one of the four featured in this set to have success as a mainstream filmmaker, Kaplan directed Jodie Foster in her Best Actress Oscar-winning role as Sarah Tobias in 1988’s The Accused.

The Young Nurses (1973)

When the first camera shot post-opening credits is a lovely young blonde sunning herself topless on a sailboat, you know that whatever else The Young Nurses is going to be, a thought-provoking, sensitive, intellectual study of the day-to-day lives of medical professionals it isn’t.  Directed by Clint Kimbrough, a long-time member of Corman’s stock company, The Young Nurses is pure exploitation; what plot exists is there solely by chance, and is for the most part too convoluted to engender any interest on the part of the viewer.

Three young nurses (despite there being four women on the poster, there were only three female leads … Corman’s ‘Nurse’ posters always featured an extra nurse) work at the only hospital to seemingly have an attached marina.  Kitty (Jean Manson), the beautiful blonde mentioned above, rescues then falls in love with a young man who managed to fall overboard from his boat while ogling her sunbathing.  Joanne (Ashley Porter), a brilliant nurse, believes she knows more than half the doctors on staff—and doesn’t hesitate to act like it.  And Michelle (Angela Gibbs) is hot on the trail of pushers who are flooding the streets with a deadly new drug.  That’s it … that’s the script.  The rest is filler—nurses getting naked on cue, the obligatory bumbling doctors, actors who either overplay or underplay every scene, and just enough nudity, sex and action to make it all fun.

The only bright points in the film are the performance of Allan Arbus as Dr. Krebs, and the final on-screen appearance of Mantan Moreland (billed as Man Tan Moreland) in a cameo role.  Arbus, best remembered as Dr. Sidney Freedman, the wise-cracking psychiatrist from the TV series M*A*S*H, is clearly the only member of the cast present for his acting ability.  Moreland, whose career began in the era of segregated films in the 1930s, had his most memorable role as Birmingham Brown in the series of Charlie Chan movies produced by Monogram Pictures in the mid-1940s.

All that being said, The Young Nurses does what it’s supposed to do.  It just doesn’t go overboard doing it … I know, I apologize.

Candy Stripe Nurses (1974)

The end of Corman’s ‘Nurse’ cycle was also the best of the series, Alan Holleb’s Candy Stripe Nurses.  Providing just the right balance of sex, plot, action and humor, and starring the queen of sexploitation films in the early ‘70s, Candice Rialson, Candy Stripe Nurses manages to be entertaining on a number of levels.

The film follows the exploits of three ‘candy-stripers’, young women who volunteer as nurses at a big city hospital.  Each girl has her own motives for volunteering:  Sandy (Rialson) simply wants to be close to her doctor boyfriend (as well as several of her patients); Dianne (Robin Mattson) sees it as the first step on her way to becoming a doctor; and Marisa (Maria Rojo), was ordered to volunteer as a consequence of attacking a teacher at her school.  The trio each finds a challenge to their talents, medical and otherwise.  Sandy works her way into the hospital’s sex clinic as a receptionist, a position which she uses to meet up with a famous rock and roll star who’s suffering, in the pre-Viagra 1970s, from an embarrassing lack of, um … enthusiasm, for his groupies.

Dianne falls in love with a basketball player who was admitted with what she believes were the symptoms of a drug overdose, but no one believes her, especially when the blood test comes back negative.  And Marisa takes up the cause of a young man in the prison ward, charged with robbing a gas station.  Only he swears to her that he is innocent.

The three plots are well-managed, and Holleb keeps things from becoming too tangled and confusing.  It’s not high art, but then what Corman film is?  It does the job, providing an hour and twenty minutes of mindless entertainment while munching popcorn.  That’s what it was intended to do in 1974, and it still does it today.

Something Weird on the Screen: The Wild, Bizarre and Wacky World of Scare-Your-Children Movies, Exploitation Shorts and Stag Films

  

[Ed. Note]  The Unimonster wishes to express his heartfelt gratitude and appreciation to Bobbie Culbertson of www.junkyardfilms.com, without whose knowledge and assistance this article would not have been possible.  As I stated many times during the writing of this piece… Thanks Bobbie, you’re the best!

As I may have mentioned a time or two (or forty …) in this column, I love cheesy movies … the cheesier, the better, especially if it cost less than the price of a new car to produce.  Give me a movie that’s the celluloid counterpart of a twenty-pound block of Velveeta®, something that could put a deathgrip on King Kong’s colon, and was done on the cheap, and you have one happy Unimonster.  And from THE BLOB to BUBBA HO-TEP, no type of film does low-budget cheese better than the Genre film—specifically the five associated genres of Horror, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Fantasy, and Exploitation.

Why is it that I enjoy these types of movies so much more than their mega-buck Hollywood blockbuster cousins?  Well, one answer is lowered expectations.  When a major studio pours $180 million into a picture, it had damn well better make me stand up and cheer; anything less is just a disappointment.  Movies such as INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL, HELLBOY 2: THE GOLDEN ARMY, or THE DARK KNIGHT demand huge budgets, but the finished product is well worth the filmmakers’ investment.  But when a big-budget film flops, it’s usually a disaster of biblical proportions, sometimes ending the careers of those involved.  The best-known example of this was 1980’s HEAVEN’S GATE, the boring, bloated, Box-Office bomb that sank the career of heretofore-promising director Michael Cimino.  With a budget that ballooned to five times the original estimate, and a running time that was north of three-and-a-half hours, it was Box-Office death, earning less than three-and-a-half million on a thirty-five million dollar investment.  However, when no one expects anything from a movie, it’s hard to be disappointed.

 

And that brings me to another reason for my love of cheap movies … they’re so much more entertaining.  Let’s face facts—most people go to the movies to be entertained.  Not enlightened, not educated, not indoctrinated … simply to relax and have a good time.  That’s hard to do when the director is trying to beat some socially relevant message into your head; even harder when the beating lasts for three or more hours.  There are people who enjoy that sort of thing; there are also people who prefer tofu to rib-eye.  I have little use for either sort of person.

I for one want entertainment from the movies I watch.  If I want enlightenment, I play golf.  If I want education, I read a book.  And I scrupulously try to avoid indoctrination.  All I seek from my hard-earned movie-buying dollar is a couple of hours of mindless entertainment… not a disguised thought exercise.  I don’t think I differ greatly from the average movie fan in that regard, either.  The average movie fan just wants a little something to take him or her out of their mundane, everyday existence—something that they can’t get in their normal lives.  Sometimes that’s a thrilling adventure yarn, sometimes a historical drama, and sometimes, it’s something just a little further afield.  Something strange, something unusual, something… weird.

For nearly two decades, there’s been a small company catering to those of us who share a love of the cinematic equivalent of a ripe wedge of Roquefort, movies that define the term, “So bad it’s good …”  Something Weird Video is precisely that—something weird, indeed anything weird, that has been captured on film or video.

Say you have a fondness for 1950’s vintage High School hygiene films … SWV has you covered.  You consider yourself a fan of the films of Harry Novak?  They’ve got what you’re looking for.  Need a Bettie Page or Tempest Storm stag reel for your next bachelor party?  Something Weird is the place for that, and virtually every other type of low-brow, low-class, and low-budget film you can imagine.

Founded in 1990 by Mike Vraney, SWV has grown into a major distributor of classic, and unusual, genre films.  They also specialize in the type of short films that collector’s love, but that every other distributor ignores.  Industrial films, propaganda films, educational films—name an obscure form of video, and chances are they have it in stock.  From a 1959 film produced by the Kansas State Board of Health on the dangers of Syphilis, to ‘60’s-vintage Police training films on how to spot signs of marijuana use, to a promotional film put out by Karo Syrup entitled THE ENCHANTED POT, virtually every taste and interest is catered to by the company.  But by far, their stock in trade is the good, old-fashioned, Exploitation Film.

Precursor to both the Grindhouse films of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, and the X-Rated adult features of the ‘70’s and ‘80’s, Exploitations became big business as the silent era transitioned into sound.  A small group of producer/distributors, part con-men, part Hollywood mogul, and with a stiff measure of carnival huckster thrown in, came to dominate the Exploitation circuits, playing in dingy downtown theaters and out-of-the-way rural Drive-Ins.  Known collectively as “the Forty Thieves”, these showmen traveled the country exhibiting their films to curious crowds, always promising the raw, uncensored, unvarnished truth about a myriad of social ills, from child marriage to the dangers of sexual promiscuity and drug abuse… and delivering just enough to keep the rubes and yokels happy.

The Exploitations were the cinematic equivalent of a traveling sideshow; talk up the crowds, get them excited about whatever symptom of moral decay was the topic of that week’s film, get them to lay down their money for a ticket, and then give them pretty much what they were expecting—a little entertainment, a little skin, a little naughtiness, all wrapped up in a package that they could regard with a sense of moral outrage and indignation—while secretly wishing that they themselves could indulge in some of that naughtiness.

The kings of the Exploitation circuits made fortunes with these films, often recycling them over and over by splicing new title cards into the prints, or by trading them to other distributors in exchange for films that had already worn out their welcome on other circuits.  Names like Kroger Babb, Dave Friedman, and Dan Sonney might mean little today, but in their era, and in their arena, they were as powerful and influential as Samuel Goldwyn, Darryl F. Zanuck, or Walt Disney.  They were the moguls of Exploitation; the men who worked beyond Hollywood’s pale, creating films no “respectable” distributor would dare touch.  In the ‘40’s and ‘50’s, they, and others like them, fought for an end to censorship of motion pictures and increased freedom for filmmakers, even if ‘mainstream’ filmmakers looked down their collective nose at them.

As the ‘50’s gave way to the ‘60’s, the Exploitations began to change.  The moral message that had been such a prominent part of the “Road Show” era of Exploitation films fell by the wayside as the courts struck down, one by one, the draconian censorship laws on the motion picture industry.  Without the need to justify their more salacious or risqué content, a new breed of filmmakers, people such as Harry Novak, Doris Wishman, and Mike and Roberta Findlay began producing a new breed of Exploitation film. 

These were truly exploitative films, lacking any pretense of cultural or educational value.  From Wishman’s ‘Nudie Cuties’ to Herschell G. Lewis’ gore-filled horrors, the early ‘60’s were an explosion of new trends in movies, and those on the leading edge of those trends were the Exploitation filmmakers.  The same year that audiences were shocked by the sight of Janet Leigh dressed only in her undergarments following an afternoon tryst in PSYCHO, moviegoers in New York City’s 42^nd Street grindhouses were watching Wishman’s NUDE ON THE MOON, a Sci-Fi “epic” filmed at a Florida nudist colony.  Three years before Peter Fonda starred in the landmark film EASY RIDER, he starred in a not-so-vaguely similar movie, THE WILD ANGELS, directed by Roger Corman for American-International Pictures.

But the Exploitations would go where Hollywood dared not follow, and do so in ways that the major studios wouldn’t think of emulating.  At a time when Hollywood was still struggling to come to terms with homosexuality, racism, drug abuse, and a rapidly changing cultural landscape, the Exploitations were treating all of these topics in an open, frank manner… even if that treatment was less than honest—or flattering.  These were key themes for the “grindhouse” cinema, the infamous strip of theaters along 42^nd Street in Manhattan.  A few blocks away might be the bright lights of Broadway, but here all was darkness and shadow, and it was populated by those who shunned the light.  The grindhouses of “The Deuce,” as the strip was christened by authors Bill Landis and Michelle Clifford in their book, Sleazoid Express: A Mind-Twisting Tour through the Grindhouse Cinema of Times Square, were where the Exploitation film reached it’s zenith.  There you could find an endless variety of perversion and prurient delights… if you were willing to risk your wallet, or perhaps your life, for the experience.

While those who frequented the theaters that made up the “Deuce” profess fond memories of the experience, the truth is slightly different.  The grindhouse area was, in fact, a filthy, crime-ridden, two-by-eight block section of the city that was a breeding ground for prostitution, assault, robbery, and disease.  The only reason fans of these movies traveled to such a blighted zone was because that was the only place that you could see these films… and despite their low-quality and frequently tasteless subject matter, many of these films were worth seeking out.

New York City’s efforts to remake it’s public image led to the end of the “Deuce,” as theater after theater was razed upon the altar of ‘urban renewal’.  For the most part the fans of Exploitations weren’t displeased … with the growth of Home Video and the newfound freedom to watch whatever you might choose in the privacy of your own home, why brave the dimly-lit alleyways of 42^nd Street?  And as Hollywood’s standards changed, the line between what was “mainstream” and what wasn’t began, first to blur, then to vanish altogether.  This began as early as 1969 when an X-Rated film, John Schlesinger’s MIDNIGHT COWBOY, won the Oscar® for Best Picture.  Ironically, this film examined the lives of two Times Square hustlers played by Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, and their struggle to survive as denizens of the “Deuce.”  This led to a spate of semi-respectable adult films—DEEP THROAT and BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR were two notable titles—that were shown in first-run theaters.  With Hollywood now free to explore many of the topics that were previously the sole province of the Exploitation filmmakers, many of them moved into the final stage in the life cycle of the Exploitation filmmaker—hardcore pornography—and the true Exploitation film died a slow, lingering death.  But the movies that made up the more than five decades of the Exploitation period haven’t died, though it was only the efforts of a dedicated few who kept the memory of these films alive, people like Mike Vraney, Bill Landis, Michelle Clifford, Dave Friedman, Harry Novak, and others who have worked to preserve these films, and history of the Exploitation Cinema.

While it’s easy to dismiss these movies as trashy, lewd, and without redeeming value, I believe that is far too harsh a judgment.  Yes, these films were trashy, designed primarily to titillate and tease their audiences … and to that, I say, “So what?”  Could not the same be said for most of the motion picture industry?  The goal of producers and distributors hasn’t changed since Edison screened his GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY in the 1900’s—to put asses in seats—at whatever ticket price the market would bear.  If the Exploitation filmmakers hadn’t given the movie-going public what they wanted, then they wouldn’t have accomplished this.  And if they hadn’t accomplished the task of selling tickets, then they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they did.  Trashy—yes.  Lewd, lascivious, exploitive, prurient, pandering, coarse, vulgar, bawdy … yes, they were all of the above.

But they were also entertaining.  Sometimes that’s good enough.  Sometimes, that’s just what you’re in the mood for.  And thanks to Mike Vraney and his Something Weird Video, we can indulge that mood whenever it strikes.  And not in some run-down, flea-ridden, rat-infested den of iniquity with a movie screen, but in the comfort of our own homes.