Book review: Papa Married a Mormon

Few people really understand the fear felt by Mormons in the genesis of the faith's flight to Utah to avoid what members perceived as severe persecution in Missouri and Illinois. In the latter half of the 19th century non-Mormons, or "gentiles" were regarded as intruders in "Zion" bent on either crushing the saints or forcibly removing them from their third homeland. In The Kingdom or Nothing, Samuel Taylor's biography of Mormon prophet John Taylor, when settlers heard rumors of a planned U.S. military "invasion" upon the Utah territory, church settlers abandoned the new Salt Lake City and trudged south to Provo, leaving instructions to a few left behind to burn everything if the soldiers assumed command of the city.

These sentiments are nearly gone, although stronger a generation ago, when Utahn John D. Fitzgerald wrote the popular novel Papa Married a Mormon.

Times have changed, and Papa Married a Mormon has been adapted to the stage many times in Utah. The novel, first published in 1955 by Prentice Hall, is easy to find at used bookstores. Two sequels followed: Mama's Boarding House, and Uncle Will and the Fitzgerald Curse.

Set in the 1880s and 90s in the fictional southern Utah towns of Adenville and Silverlode, the most unique aspect of Fitzgerald's novel is that a significant portion of it is true, albeit with a healthy dose of journalistic license, no doubt. Fitzgerald is writing about his family: His Uncle Will, who leaves Pennsylvania in disgrace to seek a life as a gambler/gunslinger; His father Tom, Sr., who obeys a deathbed wish to find Will and tracks him down, finding him a rich saloon and gambling hall owner in Silverlode, a mining town close to the Mormon settlement of Adenville, which is headed by the towns's bishop, Ephraim Aden.

Once reconciled with Will, Tom takes over the Silverlode newspaper, and gains the trust of Adenville Mormons whose subscriptions, printing and advertising provide him a means of support. All this is threatened when he meets and falls instantly in love with Tena Neilsen, the 17-year-old daughter of Mormon emigrants from Europe. After a struggle with Tena and her family, Tom wins her heart, marries her in Denver and eventually the pair return to southern Utah with Tom (and Tena) considerably less popular among the saints than they had been previously.

While the novel's chapters feature diverse tales (there's whole chapters devoted to saloon rowdies, kids's pranks, family genealogy, gun fights, and dog fights) in essence the rest of Fitzgerald's novel deals with the growth of Tom and Tena's s multi-religious family in Adenville and their slow but eventual acceptance by the Mormon majority. This subject provides the most powerful writing in the novel, as Fitzgerald portrays the suffering his mother feels, outwardly as a rejected saint, and inwardly as her Mormon conscience tears at her act of rebellion in marrying a gentile.

"Papa knew that Momma's life was very lonely. The Latter-day Saints politely ignored her because she was an apostate. They would not let her trade in Adenville; even the farmers refused to sell her eggs and vegetables. ... Two weeks before the baby was born, Papa went through a night of torture. Mama had barely spoken to him all evening. About midnight he awoke and heard Mama crying ... He put his arm around her ... Momma threw him off, 'Don't touch me,' she cried piteously."

When Tom insists that Tena explain her behavior, she admits that she doesn't feel married to him, since Mormons are married for time and all eternity. Tom goes to Bishop Aden and asks to be baptized a Mormon. The Bishop refuses to baptize Tom to placate his wife, but marries the pair outside a temple for time and all eternity. Although this would be frowned on today, it was not unusual in 18th century Utah to conduct "time and all eternity" marriages from outside a temple or endowment house. But it was certainly unusual if the groom was a Catholic.

Papa Married a Mormon is a fun read for anyone, but also a Utah history lesson. Fitzgerald writes each chapter like a separate story, so readers can jump in anywhere. One weakness is a tendency for the author to be a bit flowery in his prose, so at times romance almost becomes farce. Also, although Fitzgerald's heart is in the right place, he exhibits a condescending attitude toward Native Americans, a vice likely widespread in 1950s literature. One more thing: The novel comes with pictures of all the family members Fitzgerald writes about. It's fun to put a face to Tom, Tena and the Fitzgerald gang.

A postscript: I did some research and discovered that the Fitzgerald lived in Price, Utah, not Southern Utah. "Papa" did marry a Mormon, but he was a local financial professional, not a journalist, and also was an elected official. Author John D. Fitzgerald lived a fascinating life, with many unique jobs. He merits a biography.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Strangler of the Swamp

This is a fabulous film, perhaps Producer Releasing Corporations best, along with Bluebeard, although I have a soft spot for The Devil Bat. The 1946 film is lean, just under and hour, directed by Frank Wisbar. It's based on a French film. The atmosphere is incredible. The swamp is other-wordly, and the rural Americans seem toexist in another time and world. Charles Middleton, the gaunt, frightening Strangler, was the Emporer Ming in the old Flash Gordon serials. Rosemary LaPlanche, former Miss America, has a purity an innocence that connects to the vengeful Strangler. A young, later to be famous as a director/writer Blake Edwards, is good as LaPlanche's love interest. Rural locals in the film are well cast as well. (LaPlanche later starred in PRC's weird "sequel" to "The Devil Bat," "Devil Bat's Daughter.

Here is a small capsule review I wrote for "Strangler of the Swamp" as part of a column for The Standard-Examiner and later Plan 9 Crunch's main blog:

"Strangler of the Swamp" — Made in 1948, this atmospheric thriller involves a man, hanged for a murder he didn't commit, who returns as a ghost and assumes the role of ferryman at the swamp. Instead of ferrying passengers, he strangles locals in revenge. Finally, a young woman (Rosemary LaPlanche) prepares to offer herself as a sacrifice to get the ghost to leave. The strangler (Charles Middleton) was "Emperor Ming" in the old "Flash Gordon" serials.

As mentioned, a great 40s C genre film, better than most A productions of that time. Don't miss it!

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Wizard of Mars

I really love this 1963 David Hewitt ultra-low budget space opera. I'll say right off that one of the aliens in this film is the same "Space Monster" from the Leonard Katzman schlock-fare also called Space Probe Taurus.

Ripped off from L. Frank Baum's famous tale, The Wizard of Oz, here is the Wikipedia description of 85-minute, color "The Wizard of Mars":

The title character is portrayed by John Carradine, who gives a lengthy monologue as a projection near the end of the film. The film centers on four astronauts--Steve (Roger Gentry), "Doc" (Vic McGee), Charlie (Jerry Rannow), and of course, Dorothy (Eve Bernhardt), shown aboard ship wearing Silver Shoes--who dream they are struck by a storm and encounter the Horrors of the Red Planet (one of the film's video retitlings), and eventually follow a "Golden Road" to the Ancient City where they encounter the title character, who is the collective consciousness of all Martians.

It's that crazy. The characters are wonderful stock space opera fare: The older mentor astronaut. The sexy woman astronaut who eventually gets the hots for the stud, leader astronaut. And, of course, there's the wisecracking astronaut. There is Hewitt's signature of touch of foamy, wavy fire waves that he has used in other films. I particularly like a strange creature -- guided by offscreen hands -- that menace the astronauts while they row in a Martian canal. The creature looks like a low-rent Tingler!

The space fare is low budget and I love the asteroid showers! This is a fun film. I first became aware of it while watching Something Weird OnDemand trailers. I found it on an old VHS that was titled Horrors of the Red Planet and said Lon Chaney Jr. was in it? WRONG. I later learned that Wizard of Mars was shopped as "Alien Massacre" along with Hewitt's schlocky "Gallery of Horrors," which features Chaney Jr. Such is the life of low-budget sci-fi being peddled in the early days of VHS and even Beta!

It became almost an obsession to find this film with its original title, and Plan 9 Crunch finally did, and old 80s VHS release had it. Carradine s wonderfully bizarre spouting nonsensical dialogue as "The Wizard." Of course it's all a dream. That really doesn't make sense, but again, the film really doesn't make sense. I loved it. Watch it as a double-feature with "Space Monster" or Hewitt's better "Journey to the Center of Time." You won't be disappointed.

-- Doug Gibson

Remembering FJA

Forrest J. Ackerman died on Dec. 4 at the old age of 92, but FJA, like Dracula, Frankenstein, The Wolf Man, or Sci-Fi, the genre name he coined, will never really die. For 80 years, FJA Ackerman exemplified the horror and sci-fi genre.

The man was a part of every cycle in cult films. What more can you say about a man, who as a teen, actually went into a theater and saw Lon Chaney in the long-lost film "London After Midnight. Always a collector, FJA once had the original sound discs to James Whale's Frankenstein ... until Ed Wood chrony John Andrews allegedly stole them! FJA owned Bela Lugosi's scrapbook, until Edwards allegedly swiped that. (Despite his perfidy, John Edwards will always be loved for his priceless anecdotes about Ed Wood).

Speaking of Wood, FJA remained a friend even after the Plan 9 director had descended into porn. FJA was a friend to everyone in the genre. His "Ackermansion" was the source of many events. He put out the best genre magazine in the 50s and 60s, and late in his life offered some great "Spaceman" editions on the flip side of the late, great Cult Movies mag.

I'm looking through FJA's filmography. He was in almost 50 films, from The Howling, to Dracula v. Frankenstein to Amazon Women of the Moon, the 76 King Kong, Return of the Living Dead 2, Kentucky Fried Movie, Queen of Blood and to The Vampire Hunters Club. What a thrill it was to watch David Hewitt's low-budget space opera The Wizard of Mars and see FJA as "technical adviser!" You bet FJA was a techical adviser -- when it came to these films, he was the best.

Rest in Peace, FJA, those of us who love to be scared are forever in your debt!

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Black Dragons

Black Dragons is probably Bela Lugosi's oddest C-movie cheapie, and let's face it, the competition is fierce. But, oh, how I love these old '40s gems. It's a Monogram film, made under its Banner Productions. I'm sure it played in LA and NYC street theaters and smaller cities and towns, perhaps paired with an East Side Kids flick?

But I digress: Black Dragons, 1942, directed by William Nigh, runs 64 B&W minutes and stars Lugosi as Dr. Melcher and Monsieur Colomb. He's a sinister guy who pops up just as a bunch of American industrialists are getting mysteriouslybumped off. There is also pretty Joan Barclay as the niece of a Dr. Saunders, who is all mixed up in whatever is going on. It's also fun to see future Lone Ranger Clayton Moore as an FBI agent.

Now, we have mysterious deaths, we have Lugosi. It's all set to be a horror, right ... ahem, no. This is 1942, the U.S. is at war with the Axis, and Monogram head honcho Sam Katzman saw money to be made by creating a combination thriller/WW2 propaganda anti-Japanese film. So that's what Black Dragons is, and it makes the film an interesting historical curio piece.

You see, these U.S. industrialists are Japanese spies, created through plastic surgery to look like the American industrialists. Lugosi was the Nazi-like surgeon who did all this in Japan ... and then was doublecrossed and thrown in prison. Somehow -- the film sort of glosses over this -- Lugosi escaped Japan and headed to the U.S. to get his revenge on the spies.

As I mentioned, I love these time-capsule films. Monogram was famous for its bizarre intricate plots that its ultra-low budgets just could never keep up with. They dissolve into fun nonsensical action. Lugosi is Lugosi in this film. He's wonderful, whether he's coyly flirting with starlet Barclay or cleverly and calmly dispatching his victims. And there's also that wonderful, ubiquitous menacing, Monogram music.

The boom of video and DVD plus public domain has made Black Dragons easy to find. It's often in the $1 DVD bin at Wal-Mart or in the 20- to 50-set public domain offerings. Those with broadband Internet can watch it free on the Net. Buy it and enjoy an hour's diversion into a different filmmaking existence.

-- Doug Gibson

Book review: The Road to Los Angeles

The Road to Los Angeles, by John Fante, Black Sparrow Press, 164 pages, 1985. Originally written in the 1930s.

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John Fante's first novel, The Road to Los Angeles, sat in the trunk for more than 50 years, finally to be published after his death. It's a brilliant, manic, energetic, wild at times almost incoherent novel of a pretentious well-read 18 year old, Arturo Bandini, trying to sow his oats in Depression-era Southern California. If Holden Caulfield had been on drugs, he might have resembled Arturo Bandini.

The subject matter might have scared away 1930s publishers. Arturo, is to put it mildly, quite eccentric. He masturbates to photos of women who he develops fantasy relationships with, then executes them by tearing the pages apart. He scorns religion, mercilessly teasing his devout mother and sister. He's a thief, a vandal, and he delights in killing crabs and other small critters. He has a vivid imagination, and manages to write a novel in a week. He also has ups and downs, and frequently maims himself and thinks of suicide.

What keeps The Road to Los Angeles at a fast pace is the vivid imagination of the author Fante. At times the novel seems written in a stream of consciousness, so quickly do ideas, mad, cruel or otherwise, flow from the mind of the character Bandini. One of the high points of the novel is Fante's description of fish canneries, where Bandini works. They are putrid, choking, grotesque factories where employees are paid 25 cents an hour and rewarded with a smell that no bath can wash away.

Fante's spare, fast-paced prose, with short sentences, was an inspiration for Charles Bukowski, who regarded Fante as his idol. Fante eventually gravitated to Hollywood and wrote mostly screenplays. One Full of Life, was also made into a movie. However, hard living and untreated diabetes left him lame and blind. He was living in obscurity in the mid 1970s when Bukowski sought out his idol, and eventually stirred re-interest in Fante's work.

-- Doug Gibson

Book review: Death of a Transvestite

Death of a Transvestite, by Ed Wood Jr., 172 pages, Four Walls Eight Windows Press, 1999. Originally published by Pad Library in 1967 under the title Let Me Die in Drag.

Besides making some of the most ridiculous ... and unique films ever produced, the infamous Ed Wood produced a lot of writing. He may have written more than 100 novels, and perhaps 1000 short stories. Friends recall that the prolific Wood could wake up, sit down in front of a typewriter and finish an entire screenplay by the evening. Wood's second career writing novels and stories, however, took off in tandem with his alcoholism. He wrote exploitation novels for the cheap paperback market, receiving only a few hundred dollars a book and no royalties. Many of his books have pseudonyms, and by the end of his life, he was writing mainly pornography.

In Nightmare of Ecstasy, Rudolph Gray's excellent oral biography of Wood, the author points to Killer in Drag and Death of a Transvestite as Wood's strongest literary efforts. He's probably right. Death of a Transvestite, a sequel to Killer in Drag, was written before Wood had more or less entirely gravitated to porno. It's a sleazy but entertaining tale of Glenn, a hit man for the Mafia who is also a transvestite, albeit a heterosexual one. The story begins with Glenn in prison, facing execution, relating the story of his life to the warden. In return, the warden will allow Glenn to be executed in drag.

It's actually better than it sounds. Wood was too lazy a researcher to produce a great book, but he captures the underbelly of the characters and settings. Cliches, sleazy prose, sex scenes, violent deaths and hyperbole abound in Death of a Transvestite, but the novel has heart. You root for Glenn. Try to imagine Elmore Leonard producing a first draft of a novel written in a couple of days without spell checks and, presto, you have Death of a Transvestite.

Most of Wood's books are out of print of course, and they command a very high price (in the hundreds of dollars) when an original can be found. However, Four Walls Eight Windows Press, a publisher with offices in New York and London, has reintroduced a few of Wood's novels. (Some were introduced in England in the late 80s) Death of a Transvestite and Killer in Drag can be found at most bookstores, and another Wood re-release, an earlier previously unpublished novel called Hollywood Rat Race, can be purchased via Amazon.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter

Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter, 1966, Embassy Pictures, 88 minutes, color. Directed by William Beaudine. Starring John Lupton as Jesse James, Narda Onyx as Dr. Maria Frankenstein, Estelita as Juanita Lopez, Cal Bolder as Hank Tracy/Igor, and Jim Davis as Marshall MacPhee. Rating: Three and one-half stars out of 10.

In the mid-60s Embassy Pictures produced an odd duo: Billy the Kid versus Dracula and Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter. THEY WERE NOT COMEDIES, for which we should be thankful for, since they are much funnier as straight western/horror melodramas. Billy the Kid (also reviewed on this site) is a little better, primarily because John Carradine overacts in a campy manner as the vampire. I doubt that these films played beyond the Saturday matinee level, if at all. Any web surfers know?

Except for the many chuckles at the horrendous dialogue and ultra-cheap special effects, Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter is a pretty wretched film. The plot? Dr. Maria Frankenstein and her cowed brother Rudolph are hiding out in the Wild West trying to resurrect the dead without success. They are, however, scaring the entire countryside, which seems to consist of only an aging Mexican diva named Juanita (Estelita) and her stereotypical parents. Soon arrives James (Lupton) and his big sidekick Hank Tracy (Bolder), whose been wounded. They're on the run, and Maria agrees to help Hank, but she plans on using him as a guinea pig for an artificial brain. Maria at first tries to seduce Jesse, but he rebuffs her so she tries to have him killed. After Hank becomes the monster, she changes his name to Igor, and has him kill her brother. Somewhere in this mess Jesse and Juanita fall in love and Maria is foiled in her plans.

If this film was black and white and had more unique dialogue, you'd swear it was an Ed Wood film. The laboratory in the film rivals that which was used in Bride of the Monster for bargain basement props. The acting is horrendous. The dialogue is all cliches, conveyed with eye-rolling melodrama. However, the one bright spot is Onyx as Dr. Maria Frankenstein. She plays her role with a kind of mad gleefulness. Her expressions, particularly her eyes, are those of a full-fledged loonie. She was born for this role. Bolder as Jesse's sidekick Hank turned Igor is portrayed as am imbecile, although it's debatable as to whether that was the script's intention or the result of Mr. Bolder's acting skills.

This film if seen, is best viewed as a midnight offering at a party. It will provide some laughs. Some trivia: Estelita died of influenza soon after the film was completed. Lupton, who played Jesse James was a veteran character actor who played mainly TV roles. He was on several Gomer Pyle USMC episodes playing various officers.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: House of Dracula

House of Dracula, 1945, Black & White, Universal, 67 minutes. Directed by Erle C. Kenton. Starring Onslow Stevens as Dr. Edelman, John Carradine as Count Dracula (aka Baron Latos), Lon Chaney Jr. as Lawrence Talbot, Glenn Strange as the Frankenstein monster, and Skelton Knaggs as Steinmuhl. Schlock-meter rating: Seven stars out of 10.

House of Dracula is a guilty pleasure. Filmed just as WW 2 was ending, it and its companion piece, House of Frankenstein, signaled the permanent slide of Universal horror films as second-billed B movies. The sets are cheaper, plot explanations are often ignored, and the direction is quick and economical. Still, these films are a lot of fun and boast much higher production values than their competitors of the time from Monogram and PRC.

The plot is quite bizarre. Both Dracula (Carradine) and Talbot the Wolfman pop up at an eerie castle run by the famous doctor Dr. Edelman (Stevens), who seems to exist there only with his deformed nurse and beautiful daughter. Nearby is a village full of stock rural Europeans that Universal always seemed to provide as a backdrop to these films. Anyway, both Dracula and the Wolfman seek cures via a combination of psychiatry and medicine, a theme that was explored in Dracula's Daughter. Edelman seems rather unperturbed by all this, and goes about helping the two. However, Dracula can't keep his lips off the doctor's beautiful daughter's neck, and Talbot the Wolfman somehow escapes from his self-imposed prison while a wolf and discovers the Frankenstein Monster hiding in a cave. Edelman manages to kill Dracula, but not before the Count contaminates Edelman's blood with his own. Much to the doctor's horror, he transforms often into a dreadful creature, unable to control a desire to kill, and another to bring back the Frankenstein Monster to life.

Viewers, just sit back and relax. Let this goofy but fun plot unfold and enjoy a handful of Universal monsters fight it out on the screen. Carradine is better than expected. He plays his role in a subtle manner, which is smart because he lacks Lugosi's passion. Chaney is a contrast of self pity and ferocity, depending on whether the moon is full. Strange has little to do as the Frankenstein Monster but wave his arms wildly. Stevens' transformation to madman is chilling at times. He casually has his faithful nurse murdered. Veteran creepy character actor Skelton Knaggs adds atmosphere as a villager who whips up the town against the doctor. All in all, House of Dracula is worth a midnight rental.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Sammy and Rosie Get Laid

Sammy and Rosie Get Laid, 1988, British, Miramax, 98 minutes, color. Directed by Stephen Frears. Screenplay by Hanif Kureishi. Cast includes Shashi Kapoor as Rafi Rahman, Frances Barber as Rosie Hobbs, Claire Bloom as Alice, Ayub Khan-Din as Sammy, Roland Gift as Danny/Victoria, Wendy Gazelle as Anna, Meera Syal as Anna, Suzette Llewelly as Vivia, Badi Uzzaman as Cabbie/The Ghost. Rating: Eight stars out of 10.

Sammy and Rosie Get Laid is a film that defines the end of a generation. It's the mid-1980s and the sexual and political revolutions of the 1960s still flourish, but definitely as a counter-culture. The ideas, as Rosie puts it, of "Freedom plus commitment" is being rejected by a British society that has embraced Margaret Thatcher and the ideals of strict conservative morality and capitalism. Still, in a pocket of color within London, Sammy, an immigrant accountant and his wife Rosie, a social worker, thrive. They are in love and have lovers. Sammy is currently having an affair with Wendy, an American artist with Ws tattoed on both buttocks. As Anna explains, everytime she bends over it spells WOW. Rosie will soon bed an attractive black squatter called Victoria (played by Fine Young Cannibals singer Gift) by those who like him. Sammy and Rosie like their life. They spend weekends at plays, essays, classes, and walking through their city, London. As they exclaim, they are Londoners, not Brits. An eclectic crowd surrounds them of gays, homeless, artists, council (public housing) dwellers, squatters, immigrant shopkeepers, scared, vicious police, and riots. However, life is changing. Sammy and Rosie's part of London is beginning to percolate as racial tensions and injustice bubble to the surface. The police kill a black woman who thought her home was being invaded. Before the film is over, the neighborhood will at times begin to resemble 1980s Beirut.

Critic Roger Ebert describes Sammy and Rosie as a film about London, and writes that those who love London will appreciate director Frears and screenwriter Kureishi's efforts to bring London to its multi-cultural life. Many different scenes of London are displayed: Sammy's office, an artist's studio, a wealthy woman's home, Sammy and Rosie's apartment, a council flat, a squatter's settlement, London parks, the airport, a riot in the streets, and a lot more. Kureishi's films have brought many Asian actors to mainstream audiences, and in Sammy and Rosie, the famous Indian actor Shashi Kapoor stars as Sammy's father Rafi, a former high political figure in his native country (It is never made clear what the country is) who has a reputation as a torturer and murderer of thousands. Rafi returns to England to see his son and visit an English woman, Alice -- played by Claire Bloom -- whom he loved and abandoned 30 years ago. Rafi also confides to Sammy that he is on the run from potential assassins, and that he wants to give his fortune to Sammy.

Rafi is suffering though. He continues to see a ghost of a man with one eye and a bandage over his head, who first appears as his cabby at the airport. This ghost will eventually lead Rafi to a terrifying experience. Rafi also finds the sexual lifestyle of Sammy and Rosie disturbing, but remains tolerant to a degree. However, his hopes to live a peaceful life with his son and daughter-in-law are threatened when details of his past as a torturer are slowly revealed. Rosie cannot accept it, and her lesbian friends are ready to kill Rafi. He also receives a deserved comeuppance from spurned lover Alice, who at times resembles a modern-day Miss Havershim.

Rafi's visit eventually brings Sammy and Rosie to a realization that perhaps they aren't as open minded as they thought. The tragedy of his time with them brings a disagreement --- Sammy can't abandon his dad, and Rosie can't forgive and forget what he's done. Eventually, his presence leads to a break-up. Sammy and Rosie Get Laid is a witty, at times touching film with an honest ending that portrays racism and oppression without blinders. There's no happy ending because it doesn't exist yet.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Barfly

Barfly, 1987, Color, 100 minutes, Cannon. Directed by Barbet Schroeder. Screenplay by Charles Bukowski. Starring Mickey Rourke as Henry Chinaski, Faye Dunaway as Wanda Wilcox, Alice Krige as Tully Sorenson, Jack Nance as Detective, and Frank Stallone as Eddie. Bukowski appears as an extra in a bar scene. Rating: Seven and one-half stars out of 10.

Perhaps almost as interesting as the film Barfly is the story of how it was OKd as a film project. Director Barbet Schroeder, who had spent years trying to Charles Bukowski's semi-autobiographical script made into a film, barged into the head of Cannon's film division and threatened to cut off his finger with a chainsaw if the film was not financed. The suits backtracked, and Barfly was made into a pretty decent film, bolstered by very strong performances from stars Rourke and Dunaway.

As mentioned, Barfly was written by the late Bukowski, a prolific writer who abused his body terribly with bravado but produced great novels, short stories and poems, that chronicled the life of the poor and drunken. Los Angeles was the setting for most of his work. Most of Bukowski's work was autobiographical, and he frequently used the name Henry Chinaski. In Barfly, drunken, acclaimed writer Chinaski meets an older, once pretty woman named Wanda Wilcox, played by Dunaway. Wilcox is based on the great love of Bukowski's life, Jane Cooney Baker, who died of drink in 1961. Dunaway captures Bukowski's seediness so well that the author later claimed he was never that scruffy. Rourke later commented ironically that it was probably tough for the screenwriter to see himself as he really was. Dunaway may have been too attractive to play Chinaski's aging faithless, alcoholic lover, but despite's Bukowski's dislike for her performance, she captures the part perfectly. She's a mixture of anger, passion, bitterness, love, defeat, vulnerability and violence. The scene where she beats up a rich young admirer/lover of Chinaski (Krige) while Rourke smiles with whimsy is a highlight of the film. Stallone as a bullying bartender who fights Chinaski is above average. Real barflies from downtown Los Angeles were used as extras to add flavor to Barfly.

The film did mixed business in the U.S., but was a big hit in Europe, where Bukowski is arguably more famous. He later wrote a very funny novel, Hollywood, based on the making on the film. Bukowski's other novels include Post Office (his best), Factotum (a homage to Down and Out in Paris and London), Women, Ham on Rye and Pulp. He was a prolific poet, so much that his publisher, Black Sparrow Press, continued to publish new work years after his death in 1994.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Haunted Palace

The Haunted Palace, 1963, 85 minutes, American International, directed by Roger Corman. Starring Vincent Price as Charles Dexter Ward/Joseph Curwen, Debra Paget as Ana Ward, Frank Maxwell as Ian/Dr. Willett, Lon Chaney Jr. as Simon Orne, Leo Gordon as Edgar Weeden/Ezra Weeden and Cathie Merchant as Hester Tillinghast. Schlock-Meter rating: 7 stars out of 10.

This is a better-than-average Vincent Price AIP 1960s offering. It offers chills, atmosphere and good direction from movie legend Corman. The story concerns a mild mannered man (Price), who moves to the mysterious town of Arkham with his wife (Paget) to inhabit a creepy castle, or palace. The townspeople, a forbidding, brooding, suspicious group except for one doctor (Maxwell), react in panic after they discover Price's character (Charles Dexter Ward) resembles an evil ancestor (Joseph Curwen) who was executed by Arkham residents long ago.


It isn't long before Price begins to take on the personality of his evil ancestor, much to the terror of his lovely wife, whom he begins to treat very roughly. With some assistance, the now evil Price (possessed by Curwen) spends much of the film extracting revenge from the descendents of the townspeople who killed him, and trying to resurrect to life a long-dead love (Merchent).
The film boasts a lot of atmosphere. Including aging horror great Lon Chaney Jr. was a casting coup for Corman. As an evil henchman of Price, he doesn't have much to do, but he lends a spooky credibility to the film just with his presence.


The title The Haunted Palace is from Edgar Allen Poe, but there's no resemblance to the story. Indeed the plot is from an H.P. Lovecraft short novel, The Strange Case of Charles Dexter Ward, but even then, the story only touches briefly on Lovecraft's plot. As is often with a Lovecraft tale, the sinister town of Arkham is the setting. Fans of Price will really enjoy this film. He's at his best. Others will find it an excellent sample of AIP's 60s horror offerings.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Black Scorpion

The Black Scorpion, 1957, 88 minutes, AMEX Productions, B&W. Directed by Edward Ludwig. Starring Richard Denning as Hank Scott, Mara Corday as Teresa Alverez, Carlos Rivas as Artur Ramos, Mario Navarro as Juanito and Carlos Muzquiz as Dr. Velazco. Schlock-Meter rating: 5 and 1/2 stars out of 10.

This tale of giant scorpions is a mostly dull programmer that is enhanced a bit by superior stop-motion special effects of giant scorpions attacking humans, animals, cars, trains and each other. Despite the better-than average fx for this low budget, the film is marred by repeated close-up viewings of a giant black scorpions' face. It's a sort of silly looking, staid puppet-like image that drools, and will draw a few chuckles.

Here's the plot: Mexico is suffering a spate of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. This unleashes a whole group of giant black scorpions from the bowels of the earth that crawl out at night and ravage the countryside. A pair of geologists (Scott and Rivas) help the police and scientists try to find the creatures' weak spots. The climatic battle takes place in a huge soccer stadium in Mexico City.

The acting is pretty blah, and the plot recycled fatigue. We have a dull love tale between Scott and Corday, an annoying stereotypical, nosy boy (Navarro) who you wish a spider would kill, and some unfunny, tasteless jokes. But scenes of the scorpions attacking a train, fighting each other in a volcano's cave, and one terrorizing Mexico City are fun to watch. According to a writer at the Internet Movie Data Base, the fxs were prepared by Willis O'Brien, the creator of the stop-motion effects for King Kong.

The Black Scorpion has much better fx than Earth Versus the Spider, another '50s cult film, but it's uninspired story and dull stretches rate it lower as a cult film than than the gleefully inept Spider. Worth renting only for the effects, and keep the fast-forward on your remote handy.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Mad Monster

The Mad Monster, 77 minutes, Producers Releasing Corporation, B&W. Directed by Sam Newfield. Starring George Zucco as Dr. Lorenzo Cameron, Johnny Downs as Tom Gregory, Anne Nagel as Lenora Cameron, Glenn Strange as Petro/the monster, and Sarah Padden as the grandmother. Schlock-meter rating: Five stars out of 10.

The first time I watched this vintage PRC cheapie, I gave it a couple of stars and compared it to later dogs like Beast of Yucca Flats and The Creeping Terror. However, during my second viewing I warmed a little to the film. It is, as one reviewer has said, so bad it fascinates. I agree. The plot: Mad scientist Lorenzo Cameron (Zucco), rebuffed by his peers, injects wolf blood into a simpleminded handyman (Strange) turning him into a well-dressed dog/wolf man. Ostensibly, the crazy doc plans to create warriors to defeat the Nazis and other enemies with his injections, but he eventually uses the monster to kill his enemies. The plot, which is recycled pulp, includes a backwoods country swamp setting, a beautiful daughter, her reporter boyfriend, and the cops.

The bottom of the barrel budget hampers Mad Monster, but there are scenes of high camp that are bizarre: The opening sequence involves the mad Zucco injecting Petro in the laboratory with blood from a snarling creature in a cage. During the scene, the doctor hallucinates a debate with his scientist colleagues (who appear as misty personages). I guess low-budget director Newfield was trying to show Zucco is mad, but it seems like he's on an LSD trip. Also, some filter is used to make the country swamp seem dank and foggy, but it just looks like the air is filled with cheesecloth.

The film lags often and should have been trimmed to an hour. There are several scenes where actors, who have nothing to do, sit and wait for the camera to stop rolling. Despite the budget and bad script, Zucco, a veteran of low-grade horrors, does a capable job. PRC starlet Nagel is pretty, and has a voice that is a dead ringer for Judy Garland. Unfortunately her reporter/boyfriend Gregory has a squeaky voice. Strange, who later would play the Frankenstein monster in a few films, is terrible. As the dim-witted Petro, he's a fourth-rate imitation of Lon Chaney Jr's Lenny in Of Mice and Men. In fact, he seems to have a far better personality as the monster. In a small role, Padden is creepy as a cackling backwoods grandma. The film ends, as was often the style 60 years ago, with the young lovers embracing in front of a burning house. It's worth a rental if you like C and B movies from the 30s and 40s.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman

Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman, 1943, Universal, directed by Roy William Neill, starring Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr., Patric Knowles, Ilona Massey, Maria Ouspenskaya, Lionel Atwill, Dwight Frye. Schlock-Meter rating: 8 stars out of 10.

Frankensten Meets the Wolfman is a fun movie that classic horror film lovers will enjoy. It's not quite at the level of the 1930s Frankenstein tales, and it's a little short -- or perhaps it just ends too abruptly for this reviewer. Nevertheless, it has three stars of the genre (Lugosi, Chaney Jr., Frye), a gorgeous female lead (Massey) and the reliably sinister Atwill and Ouspenskaya.

The plot involves the wolfman (Chaney Jr.) desperately trying to find a way to die so he can stop killing when the moon turns full. He's on the run, with gypsy Ouspensakaya helping him, when he encounters Dr. Frankenstein's granddaughter (Massey). From her he seeks the secret to ending an immortal life. Eventually, they stumble upon the frozen Frankenstein monster (Lugosi)within a decaying castle. A doctor who wants to take the cursed Chaney Jr. back to an asylum falls under the Frankenstein obsession and revives the monster to full strength. The full moon rise, and, you guessed it: We have a climatic monster battle royale.

The film is hampered by Lugosi's weak performance as the Frankenstein monster. He shambles around in a pathetic manner with his arms akimbo, looking every bit the 60 years of age he was during filming. In fairness, however, the original script called for Lugosi to be blind and included a speaking role for him. That was scrapped by Universal, and as a result Lugosi looks a little silly to unaware audiences. Still, he portrays very little menace as the monster, even despite the sabatoge by Universal.

Chaney Jr., as the cursed Larry Talbot, is very good. The first half of the film, as he makes his way to the Frankenstein castle, is very chilling and atmospheric. Knowles as the obsessed doctor fails to inspire, but the attractive Massey adds to the film. Old horror hands Atwill, Frye and Ouspenskaya add atmosphere. As mentioned, the final fight scene between Lugosi and Chaney Jr. is too brief, but it's good while it lasts. It's a pity both needed stunt men to finish the scene.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The original Dracula

Dracula, 1931, 75 minutes, Universal, black and white. Directed by Tod Browning. Starring Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula, Helen Chandler as Mina Seward, Dwight Frye as Renfield, David Manners as Jonathan Harker and Edward Van Sloan as Dr. Van Helsing. Schlock-Meter rating: 9 and 1/2 stars out of 10.

As a film, Dracula too often appears like a stage play. Most of the actors aren't particularly strong, and the climax of the film (Dracula's death) foolishly takes place off screen. Nevertheless, thanks to Bela Lugosi -- and to a lesser extent Dwight Frye -- the film remains a classic, a true cult film that brings viewers back for repeat visits to Transylvania, foggy London and Carfax Abbey, the lair of the Count. The plot: Dracula prepares for a move to London. He drives Renfield (a Londoner in Transylvania to help him move), mad, and then arrives in London. He soon ingratiates himself with the Seward family, and lusts for the blood of two ladies. He is foiled when a family friend (Van Sloan) suspects he is a vampire, and pretty Mina Seward (Chandler) is saved when Dracula is destroyed.

Lugosi's performance is magnificent. He is truly the Count, with his urbane charm, his sly humor (I never drink ... wine.), his greedy eyes sighting blood, his melodramatic answers to questions, and his artful fencing with vampire hunter Van Helsing. However, few critics capture another personality of Lugosi's Dracula: His desire to die. In a poignant scene at an opera, Dracula expounds in melodramatic fashion the peace of death. One realizes in that scene the Count wants to die, that he's as much a prisoner of fate as his victims. He simply lacks the will power to end his long existence.

Frye's Renfield is marvelous. He succeeds in convincing viewers that the secret of the Count -- discovered first hand -- is so horrible that it would drive anyone insane. His mad chuckles when discovered on a deserted ship are chilling. Frye also conveys terror and adoration when pleading with Dracula late in the film. Manners and Chandler are barely adequate as two lovers threatened by Lugosi's Dracula, but Van Sloan is pretty strong as Van Helsing. He manages a sense of humor despite the seriousness of his task, and reminds me of Donald Pleasance's slightly crazy psychiatrist who pursued monster Michael Meyers in Halloween.

Lugosi's eyes, used to seduce victims, are hypnotic. He knew this character -- he'd played Dracula on Broadway. Director Browning conveys atmosphere early in the film with scenes of a coach in the wilds of Transylvania and a ship tossed at sea. Unfortunately, the last two-thirds of the film is often too static and talky. But every scene with Lugosi is a pleasure, and he turns an ordinary film into a classic of the genre.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Dracula (Spanish version)

Dracula (Spanish-language version), 1931, 104 minutes, Universal, black and white. In Spanish with subtitles. Directed by George Medford and Enrique Tovar Avalos. Starring Carlos Villarias as Conde Dracula, Lupita Tovar as Eva Seward, Pablo Alvarez Rubio as Renfield, Barry Norton as Juan Harker, Carmen Guerrero as Lucia, Jose Soriano Vioscia as Dr. Seward and Eduardo Arozamena as Professor Van Helsing. Schlock-Meter rating: 8 and 1/2 stars out of 10.

Universal's Spanish-language version of Bram Stoker's tale was shot at the same time the Bela Lugosi classic was filmed. The same sets, props and backdrops were utilized. As the story goes, the Spanish-language version was shot late at night, after other Dracula director Tod Browning's cast and crew shot during the day. This version was out of circulation in the United States for decades before being rediscovered. The film is wonderful, and only the talent of Bela Lugosi prevents it from rating as high as the "conventional" Dracula. In fact, in many ways, this longer, more gothic, version is an improvement on director Browning's too often stagey version.

The Spanish-version Dracula is a very sensual movie. However, unlike Lugosi -- who is the sexual creature in Browning's film -- it's the women in the Spanish-language Dracula who radiate sexuality. Unlike the buttoned-up, Victorian-like Helen Chandler's Mina Seward in Browning's version, Lupita Tovar's Eva Seward (the same character) is a sexual creature whose erotic awakening is brought on by Conde Dracula (Villarias). She's shy and virginal at first, but, late in the film, in a low-cut nightgown which shows a surprising amount of cleavage for a 1931 film, she rises from her bed under Dracula's spell, eager to meet the night. Carmen Guerrero, as Dracula victim Lucia, is also sexier than her counterpart in Browning's version.

Also, the Spanish-speaking version of Dracula is much longer than Browning's version. Sometimes this hurts -- occasionally the film will lag as scenes go on to long -- but mostly it's an improvement. Characters like the mad Renfield, Eva Seward and Professor Van Helsing are more developed, and viewers will care more about their fate. Also, there are wonderfully spooky scenes that are missing in Browning's version. They include: Dracula walking through a spider's web without disturbing it; Renfield's horror at watching Dracula commanding a door to open; the terror of sailors battling a storm who see Dracula on their ship; shots of rats and bugs as Dracula's had reaches out of his coffin; and Renfield repeatedly assuring Dracula that no one knows of his trip to his castle in Transylvania. There is a wonderful scene -- not in the Browning film -- where Renfield, politely relating the history of his life to Van Helsing, calmly stops to catch a fly. Also, Renfield's death at the hands of Dracula is captured in a more brutal shot than in Browning's film. Finally, Tovar's Eva Seward is much more aware of her fate and the possessive spell Dracula has over her. In a memorable scene, she begs Professor Van Helsing to kill her after Dracula is finished with her.

The weakest link is Barry Norton's Juan Harker. He's as mediocre as David Manners in the Lugosi film. Villarias as Conde Dracula does a good job, but he pales in comparison to Lugosi. But in fairness, who can compete with Lugosi? Lugosi is sinister and charming. Villarias is forbidding and creepy. Also, Villarias will occasionally mug too much for the camera, a problem that Renfield's Rubio (who also does a good job overall) has as well. Rubio's madness is a bit more forced that Dwight Frye's Renfield. Instead of Frye's calculating, horror-filled mad chuckles, Rubio periodically breaks into hysterical screaming, which is annoying. Arozamena's Van Helsing is good, but also fails to rise to the level of Edward Van Sloan's Van Helsing in the Browning film. His delivery is a little too forced, and his character lacks the subtle wit that Van Helsing utilized while verbally sparring with Dracula. Vioscia is adequate as Dr. Seward.

However, if you're a Dracula fan, you'll love this film. It's a must for any cult film collector and today can be easily found (Amazon sells it online). As mentioned, the story is richer (viewers of this film now know what Browning cut from his Dracula) and Villarias, while no Lugosi, is still better than 90 percent of the rest of the Draculas of filmdom. Also, the "I never drink ..... wine" line is as great in Spanish as it is in English. Co-director Medford was a veteran of many silent films.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Mummy's Ghost

The Mummy's Ghost, 1944, Universal, 61 minutes, B&W. Directed by Reginald Le Borg. Starring Lon Chaney Jr. as Kharis, John Carradine as Yousef Bey, Ramsay Ames as Amina Mansori, Robert Lowery as Tom Hervey, Frank Reicher as Prof. Matthew Norman, Barton MacLane as Inspector Walgreen, and George Zucco as Andoheb, High Priest of Arkan. Schlock-Meter rating: Eight stars out of 10.

The Mummy's Ghost is pulp horror at its finest. I confess to loving this lean, mean never-a-wasted-minute B programmer from Universal. There's no excess fat to trim from this film. It's like watching a good comic strip -- every scene is key to the horror tale. The film never takes itself too seriously, but at the same time does not descend to camp level. It's a damn good hour's entertainment. Film students who want to see how a good B film could provide fun to 1940s movie-goers should make The Mummy's Ghost required viewing. It would have been great to view this in a theater with say, House of Frankenstein.

Here's the plot: Egyptian cult disciple Carradine is commanded by a high priest (Zucco, in a wonderful small part)to revive mummy Kharis and find the long lost princess Ananka, Kharis' love who was taken from his tomb. This leads them to a small university community (Mapleton) where a professor of Egyptology revives Kharis with boiled leaves of tanna. The professor is murdered for his troubles, and soon Kharis and Carradine narrow their search to a pretty coed (Ames) with Egyptian blood, who it is suspected, is the reincarnated Ananka. Her boyfriend (Hervey) tries to protect her from both the mummy Kharis and suspicious townfolk who suspect she's part of the latest round of mummy murders. The ending is dark, which is surprising for a horror film of that era, but still very effective.

The Mummy's Ghost is one of a several-part Universal 1940s offering that featured the mummy Kharis and his search for revenge and his lost love. Ghost was the second-to-last of the series. Chaney was Kharis in all but the first film, The Mummy's Hand (in which Tom Tyler was an effective Kharis). Surprisingly, Chaney is the weakest link in this otherwise tight, effective thriller. He shambles around awkwardly and inspires few shivers. Carradine and especially Zucco are very good as cult disciples. All in all, a great little film and definitely worth owning as an example of entertaining by-the-numbers B-movie filmmaking.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Cat People (1942)

Cat People, 1942, 73 minutes, B/W, RKO Radio Pictures, Directed by Jacques Tourneur, produced by Val Lewton, Starring Simone Simon as Irena Dubrovna, Kent Smith as Oliver Reed, Tom Conway as Dr. Louis Judd and Jane Randolph as Alice Moore. Schlock-Meter rating: 8 and 1/2 stars out of 10.

Val Lewton's Cat People is a horror film that only works if a viewer uses his or her imagination. Those who are too lazy to think while watching a film will go away unimpressed with Cat People. Others, who use their intellect, will be pleased. The scare scenes are deliberately underplayed, and mood, tension and film noir is used to create a creepy sensation of dread and terror in this tale of a young beauty who turns deadly beast when her passion, or anger, is aroused.

Here's the plot: A bachelor architect named Oliver (Smith) becomes infatuated with a shy Serbian-born beauty named Irena (Simon). They first meet at a zoo, where she's sketching a panther. They fall in love and are married. There's just one hitch. His young bride refuses to make love with him, or even kiss him. Also, animals seems to hate her. At first, Oliver bears this with the patience of a saint. However, the lack of intimacy leads him to a romance with Alice (Randolph) a co-worker and longtime friend. In an effort to help Irena overcome her fear of intimacy, a semi-creepy psychiatrist (Conway) is hired to help treat her.

Simon as Irena is a talented actress who manages to convey helplessness with her fate with a sinister malice when aroused by anger. In what is definitely the most chilling scene, Irena -- angry at seeing Alice and Oliver together, follows Alice to an indoor pool. In the dark natatorium, Alice hears the growls of a panther. She dives into the pool, and eventually shrieks in terror as snarls and ripping sounds are heard. When others come to help and the lights are turned on, there is only the petite Irena, with a look of satisfied menace on her face. Also, when the psychiatrist Dr. Judd tries to seduce Irena, it leads to fatal results.

Cat People is not a perfect film. The extramarital romance between Oliver and Alice seems rushed and forced. If these two have worked together for years, why didn't the sparks fly earlier? Also, Oliver doesn't seem to try very hard to enjoy conjugal pleasures with his pretty bride, despite her protests. Not enough background is provided to Irena's previous life in a Serbian village which supposedly led to her present state of woman/animal.

Still, this is a must see for cult film fans. It's strength is what it leaves to the imagination, rather than what it provides on the screen. It's far superior to a 1980s re-make-in-name-only that bathed viewers in sex and gore. A sequel, Curse of the Cat People, was released in 1948.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Son of Dracula

Son of Dracula, 1943, Universal, B/W, 80 minutes. Directed by Robert Siodmark. Starring Lon Chaney Jr., Louise Albritton, Robert Paige, Evelyn Ankers, Frank Craven. Schlock-Meter rating: 8 stars out of 10.

Son of Dracula is an enjoyable old-time horror flick with a suitably creepy if miscast Lon Chaney Jr. as Count Alucard (spell it backwards) visiting the American South in hopes of forming an unholy alliance with Kay, a woman (Albritton) obsessed with the occult. There are some above-average special effects. The Count is finally foiled by his confederate (Albritton) as she helps her confused one-time fiance Frank (Paige) destroy the Count's daytime resting spot, thereby destroying him. However, at the end, Frank -- unable to bear what Kay has become ot share her wish to be "undead" -- burns her in her coffin. Several stock characters (family doctor, visiting Hungarian professor, old Hungarian gypsy woman, dopey sheriff) also match wits with the Count.

As mentioned, this film is a winner and worthy of a rental. It's fast-paced, has a unique plot and always keeps the viewer's interest. But here are some quibbles. First, Chaney is a weak Count. He provides no charm of sinister finesse like a Lugosi, for instance. Instead, he comes across as an intimidating brute. In fairness to Chaney, however, the script is very unkind to his character.

This is the first Dracula who fails to hold control over the woman he has added to the ranks of the undead. In fact Albritton's character is the bigger villain in the film. She uses Count Alucard to gain immortality, marries him and then plots quickly to kill him and replace his space in the coffin with Paige. I often wondered why Bela Lugosi was passed up for this role. After seeing Count Alucard's role, I'm not surprised. Lugosi can play many roles, but a cuckolded Count is not one of them. Seriously, Lugosi's star had already faded a lot at Universal and he was lucky to get the Frankenstein role that same year in Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman.

Although the film seems like an A production for its time, you can also see the beginnings of the Universal monsters' slide into B moviedom in Son of Dracula. There are characters (a judge) and Kay's sister Claire (Ankers) who are introduced and then remain undeveloped and fade away. There are stock black servants which are dated and racist today. Also, although it seems there is a town somewhere in the set, it never seems to be seen.

On the plus side, Paige is very good as the bewildered fiance and Albritton makes a charming villianess. It's a great Universal early horror and well worth 80 minutes of any cult movie fan's time.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Corpse Vanishes

The Corpse Vanishes, 64 minutes, Monogram, 1942, B&W. Directed by Wallace Fox, Starring Bela Lugosi as Dr. Lorenz, Luana Walters as Patricia Hunter, Tristam Coffin as Dr. Foster, Elizabeth Russell as Countess Lorenz, Minerva Urecal as Fagah, Angelo Rossitto as Toby and Kenneth Harian as Keenan. Schlock-meter rating: Seven and one-half stars out of 10.

I love this film, while recognizing that the production values are virtually nil and the script leaves 1,000 plot holes and makes all the heroes seem like ninnies for not solving the crime early in the film. I have a soft heart for Bela Lugosi cheapie productions in the 1940s and this Monogram C movie is a hoot. The plot is sufficiently bizarre: Brides are dropping dead at the altar and their corpses are later whisked away before the real morticians alive. The only clue is that flowers are delivered to the victims minutes before they die. Neither the press or the police have a clue (although you'd think they could at least prevent the stealing of the corpse!) The public is up in arms, although there are still many weddings.

Enter nosy cub reporter Patricia Hunter (Walters). Prodded by her sexist editor, she tracks the flowers to the mysterious Dr. Lorenz (Lugosi) who resides with his crazy wife (Russell, in a wild performance) haggish sister, and her two sons, one a midget and the other a large simpleton. It turns out (of course) that Lorenz is the mad scientist, causing a death-like state to the wannabe brides, taking them to his laboratory (dig the fake brick walls!), withdrawing youth serum from the young ladies, and injecting it into his elderly wife to keep her youthful. (Another wonderful plot hole never explained is why Lorenz' wife is roughly 30 years older than him!). Hunter, aided by a lovesick doctor (Coffin), eventually foils Lorenz' evil plot, and of course, the pair are married (safely) at the end. The print I viewed did not reveal the fate of the sleeping brides --- perhaps Monogram lacked the budget to add a final scene?

The Corpse Vanishes is full of atmosphere. Lugosi, Urecal, Rossitto (who plays the midget) were all veterans of 1940s cheapies. Lugosi gives his usual great performance, and is aided by Russell, who acts truly crazy as his aged wife. Urecal provides a creepy atmosphere as well. This film is definitely worth a rental, and for those who are interested in Hollywood's history of B and C films, is worth a purchase.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Glen Or Glenda

1952, 67 minutes, B&W, Screen Classics Productions. Directed by Edward D. Wood Jr.. Starring Bela Lugosi, Daniel Davis (Ed Wood), Lyle Talbot, Dolores Fuller, Timothy Farrell, Tommy Haines, Charles Crofts, Conrad Brooks, Captain DeZita. Schlock-Meter rating: 9 stars out of 10.

I first saw Glen Or Glenda? when a copy of the video arrived as part of the press kit for the mid-90s film "Ed Wood." The copy was murky, very dark and difficult to understand. It also ended abruptly without any final credits. As a result, I wasn't too impressed. However, I learned later there were better versions available with more of the film so I invested $10 and purchased Rhino Home Video's print. I saw a much different film that is a must for Ed Wood fans and an excellent addition to any cult movie library.

Like any other Ed Wood film, it's a ridiculous story, incomprehensible at times and very poorly acted. However, like any Ed Wood film, it is unique and the actors surprisingly inspired. The plot: A transvestite commits suicide while in drag. A cop talks with a psychiatrist, who tells the cop that society must seek to understand transvestites and those who seek to change their sex. The psychiatrist tells the cop two stories: One is of a secret tranvestite (Davis/Wood) who wants desperately to wear his fiance's (Fuller) angora sweater. The other tale recounted is of a WW 2 war hero (Haines) who wants a sex change operation. All of this is sort of overseen by a spirit (Lugosi) who sits in a chair covered with fishing net and ominously spouts nonsense like "snips and tails and puppy dog tails," "pull the string," and "the story must be told."

The acting is just awful. Wood's girlfriend Fuller doesn't rise to the level of an eighth grader playing Juliet. The scene of her expressing her mental torment when Wood asks to wear her sweater is pure camp. Throughout the film the uninhibited Wood strolls through Hollywood dressed in drag looking in store windows. The dialogue is atrocious: "Give this man satin undies ... and he can be a credit to his community and his government." Like many micro-budget productions, much of the film utilizes voice-over narration.

Still, it's a great cult fim and merits its nine stars on the schlock-meter. Wood's creative chaos is in full force and it makes for deliriously entertaining scenes. Stock footage just swirls throughout this fun film. There are shots of buffalo stampedes, steel mills pushing out hot metal, military battles, kids playing ball and more. Wood's frenetic energy keeps the pace fast. Indeed, the only time the film slows down is a few moments of cheescake semi-bondage scenes of women in underwear (not directed by Wood) that producer George Weiss added for the "raincoat" crowd.
Cult movie fans will love the montage scenes where Glen dreams of telling his fiance of his secret. He's attacked by all his friends including the devil, delightfully performed by DeZita.

Glen or Glenda? as silly as it is, was actually a fairly courageous topic for Wood to tackle in 1952. It's pomposity and lack-of-tact direction made it a cult film rather quickly. Indeed, it was haunting midnight movie houses in New York by the 1970s.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Dracula's Daughter

Dracula's Daughter, 1936, Black and White, Universal, 71 minutes. Directed by Lambert Hillyer. Starring Gloria Holden as Countess Marya Zaleska, Otto Kruger as Dr. Jeffrey Garth, Marguerite Churchill as Janet Blake, Edward Van Sloan as Professor Van Helsing, Gilbert Emery as Sir Basil Humphrey and Irving Pichel as Sandor. Schlock-meter rating: Nine stars out of 10.

Dracula's Daughter was not a box office success when released in 1936. It seems that a lady villain who sucked blood failed to grasp audiences. That was the 1930s' loss. Dracula's Daughter is a magnificent sequel. It can even be argued that it is superior to the original Dracula. Gloria Holden, as the doomed daughter of the Count, radiates feral sensuality. She bemoans her fate, yet eagery succumbs to its temptations. Her mannerisms, her facial gestures, all her personality are filled with the needy arrogance of a vampire. Still, like her father, she longs to be free of the undead curse. Holden's countess is a lonely woman. Her eyes do a wonderful job of expressing that lust for companionship.

Here's the plot: Dracula's death has been discovered. Van Helsing is under suspicion by London's finest. Countess Zaleska (Holden) arrives to take the Count's remains, claiming to be his daughter. With her is a creepy servant named Sandor (Pichel). Zaleska rejoices, believing that Dracula's death has freed her from vampirism. She is wrong, of course, and continues to seek blood from the living. In one scene, she bleeds a young prostitute named Lili. Many critics claim there's strong overtones of lesbianism in that scene. While the scene is slightly erotic, I doubt that was in the minds of the filmmakers.

Zaleska soon seeks help from Dr. Jeffrey Garth, a semi-irritable psychiatrist. This belief that vampirism could be cured through medicine and psychology was a theme of several 1940s Universal horror films. The countess receives little help from psychiatry, but gets the hots for the doctor. He rebuffs her advances, so she takes off for Transylvania with his fiance (Churchill). The doctor, Van Helsing and policeman Sir Basil Humphrey (Emery) take off in pursuit.

I haven't said much about Pichel's role as Sandor, Zaleska's evil servant. He is brilliant, with his white pasty face, eerie accent, and silent grin that seems to know more than he's supposed to. He knows the countess is doomed to continue her undead existence and subtly taunts her throughout the film. Old horror film fans will love this movie, and it's worth owning.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Evil Dead 2: Dead By Dawn

1987, Color, 85 minutes (less in some foreign versions). Directed by Sam Raimi. Cast includes: Bruce Campbell as Ash, Sarah Berry as Annie Knowby, Dan Hicks as Jake, Ted Raimi as possessed Henrietta Knowby, Denise Bixler as Linda, and John Peaks as Professor Raymond Knowby. Schlock-Meter rating: Eight stars out of a possible 10.

So many reviews like to call Sam Raimi's Evil Dead 2 a comedy, or a tribute to the Three Stooges, and there are some great "gross-out" gags, as well as my favorite comic scene, where Bruce Campbell's Ash, minus his possessed hand, traps it by piling a copy of Hemingway's "A Farewell To Arms" on a container holding the hand. Yes, this film contains a lot of comic parody, and after the first half Campbell plays his part mostly for laughs. And it's true that Raimi's very fast-paced, boom-boom-boom "I'm going to jar the viewer every 30 seconds" seems a tribute to Stooge-like filmmaking. And the excessive gore does desensitize the viewer after a while.

But let's not forget that Evil Dead 2 is a very scary, suspenseful thriller that throws out just about every horror/action plot element that exists. Most work. There are only a few clinkers, and the result is a cinema gem. Critic Roger Ebert pegged it best when he wrote that the film was not in bad taste, but about bad taste. Evil Dead 2 is sort of remake of Raimi's micro-budgeted Evil Dead, but with a little more plot and a twist ending that set up another, even more comic sequel, Army of Darkness. The plot: Ash and his girl Linda (Bixler) decide to squat for a night at a cabin in the Michigan woods. Once there, Ash turns on a tape recorder where a professor, who lives in the cabin, invokes a chant from The Book of the Dead that sends a demon to the cabin. From that point on, all hell breaks loose. Eventually, Ash and a few later arrivals, including the professor's daughter (Berry), are forced to fight it out with the demons.

The film is so fast-paced that you just marvel at the speed and special effects in the film that you forget the plot is pretty light. Director Raimi was destined for bigger assignments (A Simple Plan, Quick and the Dead). He's thrifty and economical. I suspect many minutes were spliced out of the final cut of Evil Dead 2 to maintain the fast pace, horror shocks and, yes, comic timing. Most of the cast is mediocre, except for Campbell, who is outstanding. For the first half of the film, he is largely responsible for carrying the flow of the film, and he uses the right amount of fear, fatigue, anger and outrage to pull it off. There are great visual effects, including a twisted, ominous looking bridge over a high drop, a dancing headless woman-demon, a human snake, a psychopathic hand, a woman being attacked by a tree, a demon's eyeball flying into a screaming mouth, and the most chilling, Ted Raimi's possessed Henrietta Knowby, a thoroughly gruesome old demon hag who hangs out in the cellar.

By all means rent or buy Evil Dead 2. It's well worth the price. However, while it is funny, expect more shivers than chuckles. Also, those who leave the room for a snack will miss several shock scenes. They happen so fast.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Die Monster Die!

1964, 80 minutes, color, American International Pictures. Directed by Daniel Haller. Starring Boris Karloff as Nahum Witley, Nick Adams as Stephen Reinhart, Freda Jackson as Letitia Witley, Suzan Farmer as Susan Witley, Terrence De Marney as Merwyn and Patrick Magee as Dr. Henderson. Schlock-Meter rating: 4 stars out of 10.

Die, Monster, Die! is one of the more lackluster of AIP’s 1960w Poe/Lovecraft adaptations. The film is supposed to be based on a H.P. Lovecraft’s story Color of Our Space, but really bears no resemblance. There’s virtually no suspense in this slow-moving clinker, but a lot of unintentional laughs as mumbling Nick Adams arrives in England from America to visit his English girlfriend (Farmer) at her forbidding castle with her creepy parents (Karloff and Jackson). It seems that Father Witley (Karloff) has been conducting experiments with radioactive stones, with disastrous results.

The movie starts out with promise. Adams arrives in a small town and can find no one in a tiny English village who will take him to the Witley house. In fact, these villagers are downright rude to old Nick! So, he takes a long walk to the house, and there’s some good atmospheric scenes as Adams passes decayed forests, creepy fences, gates, and is watched by a specter in black. At the house, he’s greeted coldly by a forbidding Karloff, playing his role in a wheelchair.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, appears the bubbly Farmer, looking like she just stepped out of an AIP beach movie. She’s totally wrong for the part (there’s no way this vivacious blonde would be the daughter of the dour Karloff) and her presence kills the atmosphere and hope of sustained suspense. Director Haller, who does a competent if uninspired job, tries to substitute shocks for suspense, but even those are weak. Viewers are treated to a black, homicidal specter, hanging objects in the castle that are supposed to be scary, lots of fog, mutant plants, and radiation-mutated humans, including Mother Witley (Jackson) who for no reason turns maniac late in the film.

he best scene in the film shows a mutated tree attempting to encircle a surprised Farmer in his branches, but even that was done a lot better two decades later in Evil Dead.

Adams is also wrong for the part. He reminds me of a Marlon Brando wannabe. He would seem more comfortable battling Johnny Friendly on a loading dock than matching wits with mad scientist Boris Karloff. Karloff is fine, but isn’t really given much to do. He’s in a lot less scenes than Adams and he mostly whines, threatens or talks of his need to see his wife. The final scene, where a green, ringing, radioactive Karloff rises from his wheelchair and goes after Adams and Farmer is pure camp and will inspire a lot of chuckles from viewers.

Be forewarned: There’s no scares in Die, Monster, Die!, but if you are a fan of AIP horrors or Karloff, it will hold your interest, barely.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Isle of the Dead

Isle of the Dead, 1945, RKO Radio Pictures, 71 minutes, black and white. Directed by Mark Robson, Produced by Val Lewton. Starring Boris Karloff as General Nikolas Pherides; Ellen Drew as Thea; Marc Cramer as Oliver Davis; and Katherine Emery as Mrs. St. Aubyn. Schlock-Meter rating: 8 stars out of 10.

The mid 1940s was the beginning of a transition period for thrillers. The great Universal monsters were now B pictures, and soon to be relegated as fodder for comedy teams. The terrors of the nuclear age to come would bring a new type of horror star, Godzilla and various over-sized insects crawling across movie screens. But in between that change came several great horror films from Val Lewton, who knew how to exploit the supernatural and make the spines of World War II movie-goers chill.

Isle of the Dead is about our worst fears, death, the plague and being buried alive. Producer Lawton and director Mark Robson are old hands at slowly building a story, creating unease, and then slamming the viewer with a terrifying climax. There is a scene, about two-thirds of the way through, that takes this film from suspense to terror. An invalid woman (Katherine Emery) fears being buried alive. It's a legitimate fear since she suffers from spells where she appears dead. She suffers a spell and is presumed dead and put in a coffin. In a crypt, the camera pans to her coffin. She screams, and desperate clawing is heard inside. It's a scary payoff to a well-made chiller.

The plot involves a dour Greek general (Karloff) and an American reporter (Cramer) who visit an isolated island near the front of a war. They spend the night with an anthropologist and his several guests (all of whom have been forced to the island to avoid the war). A British guest (veteran cult actor Skelton Knaggs) is discovered dead. A doctor decrees it to be the plague. The general orders everyone confined to the house. One by one the plague starts to claim its victims.

As mentioned, the film drips in atmosphere. The first scenes show Karloff and the reporter walking through a battlefield strewn with the bodies of dead soldiers. There's a creepy sight of suffering soldiers hauling away wagons full of the dead for disposal. As Karloff explains, it must be done immediately to avoid the plague. The house on the island has a claustrophobic feel, none of the rooms are too large. The island is dark, foggy and creepy, the crypt dark and forbidding.
Karloff does a very capable job as a villain who can still inspire some sympathy. The heartless, but courtly Greek general who places "rule of law" over mercy is a study of extremism from two sides. When the plague starts, Karloff's general scorns the superstitions of an elderly Greek maid, preferring to put his trust in the doctor. But when the plague claims the doctor, a disillusioned Karloff switches beliefs. Still the extremist, he allies with the maid, and with frightening intensity, believes a young woman named Thea (Ellen Drew) is possessed with an evil spirit. They plot to kill Thea.

Today very few horror films rely on atmosphere to turn suspense into horror. Most try to use foreground shots (like John Carpenter's Halloween) to create tension. Some succeed. Most don't. Too many filmmakers err by throwing away characterization, thinking that a quick knife killing serves as a payoff to a lazy viewer. Val Newton's Isle of the Dead is a reminder that creating a scary film is a gradual process that takes time and care.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: What! No Beer?

What! No Beer? 1933. B&W, MGM, 70 minutes. Directed by Edward Sedgwick. Starring Buster Keaton as Elmer J. Butts, Jimmy Durante as Jimmy Potts, Phyllis Barry as Hortense, Edward Brophy as Spike Moran and Charles Giblyn as Chief. Schlock-Meter rating: Four stars out of 10 stars.

What! No Beer? is a curio, a relic from the past. The plot of the mostly unfunny comedy deals with prohibition and efforts to repeal it, an issue which dominated headlines nearly 70 years ago. It was a box office winner due to its stars, Keaton and Durante, but is generally regarded as one of the unfunniest comedies of the 1930s. It was the pair's last film together. Keaton's drinking problem and absences from the set caused the studio to fire him even before the film was released. It was the start of a spiral into film oblivion for Keaton, and his career did not surge again until television began to thrive two decades later.

The plot: Jimmy Potts (Durante) is a barber and Elmer J. Butts (Keaton) is a luckless businessman. Potts, incorrectly thinking prohibition has been repealed, convinces Butts to invest his money in a long-closed brewery. The stone-faced Butts moons over a pretty gangster moll named Hortense (Barry). He wants to be a millionaire so he can win her love. Seeing no other way to earn the million bucks, he agrees to get into the beer business. Police quickly raid the brewery and arrest the pair, but discover there's no alcohol in the brew. Later, a hobo at the deserted plant confesses he was once a great brewer and real beer is made, which is a big hit. Soon the police and the mob muscle in on Potts and Butts.

The film is as unfunny as it sounds. Durante, in particular, is just pathetic. He bellows and brays and cracks unfunny jokes. It's painful to watch him flop on the screen. Although he is clearly half-bagged in many of the scenes, the best part of the film is comic great Keaton. His talent for physical comedy is on display in several scenes, and his naivete and trusting demeanor leads to misunderstandings that bring laughs, particularly a scene where gangsters, sent to muscle him, interpret his bland replies as extreme coolness under pressure, and leave impressed. What! No Beer? is not a good movie, but it's worth a rental to see an early sound Keaton offering.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: The Dark Horse

The Dark Horse, 1932, 75 minutes, B&W, First National Pictures, directed by Alfred E. Green. Starring Guy Kibbee as Zachary Hicks, Warren William as Hal S. Blake, Bette Davis as Kay Russell, Vivienne Osborne as Maybelle Blake, Hal's ex-wife, Berton Churchill as William A. Underwood and Frank McHugh as Joe. Rating: 7 stars out of 10.

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A quick note: "The Dark Horse" is one of those wonderful 1930s programmers that would sit neglected in a film library (or perhaps sit seldom seen in a Bette Davis film collection DVD) if it wasn't for Turner Classic Movies. Film-lovers are in debt to TMC, which daily offers an invaluable history lesson of cinema with its offerings.

Now, on to "The Dark Horse." This is a delightful satire of politics that proves that, even 76 years ago, we weren't fooled by the absurdities of the political arena. Veteran actor Guy Kibbee plays, Zachary Hicks, a bumbling fool of a man who is accidentally nominated by his "Progressive" Party to be governor of an unnamed state after the two front-runners are deadlocked.

A party secretary, Kay Russell, (a very young Bette Davis) recommends that a fast-talking, charming cad of a man Hal S. Blake (forgotten leading man Warren William) be bailed out of jail -- where's he sitting due to unpaid child support -- to run Hicks' campaign. Blake does a masterful job, all while trying to stay one step ahead of his scheming, vindictive ex-wife (Vivienne Osborne) and romancing wary secretary Russell.

The key to the film, though, is the dumbness and naivete of 50sh Hays, thrust out of nowhere. Kibbee is perfect in the role. He provides understated humor in his misunderstanding of situations and constant "yes ... and maybe no" to any question. William's political operative is uncannyingly on-target, you could almost picture him spinning on cable news shows today. Davis hasn't much to do but viewers can sense her screen presence that would lead her to stardom. A fun, fast-paced film that still has relevance today, it's well worth watching when it's on TCM.

Notes: Kibbee was a very much in demand character actor and B-film starrer in the 30s and early 40s. He is best known as the corrupt governor controlled by Jim Taylor in Frank Capra's 1939 classic "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." He also starred in the only sound version of Sinclair Lewis' tale "Babbitt." Kibbee is great as Babbitt in that seldom-seen 1934 film, which aired recently on TCM. Frank McHugh, who played William's political sidekick, is best known as Father Tim Dowd in the 1944 Bing Crosby classic "Going My Way."

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Frankenstein Conquers the World

Frankenstein Conquers the World, 1965, Toho, Color. Director: Ishiro Honda; Cast includes Nick Adams, Kumi Mizuno, Tadao Takashima and Kuji Furuhata. 87 minutes in most prints. Seven out of 10 stars on the Schlock-Meter.

This is a fun film that doesn't fail to deliver cheesy thrills with a fast-growing boy Frankenstein (Furuhata) eating everything in sight and battling a monster named Baragon at the end. Scientists (Adams, Mizuno and Takashima) battle to save the boy monster so he "can be studied."

The FXs are cheesy, with the boy Frankenstein looking pretty silly on miniature sets and with overhead camera shots. The battle scenes are fake but fun, with a rubber monster flipping around a lot. The dubbing is as bad as expected. The most campy dubbing involves a German scientist, who sports an accent so bogus that even "Hogan's Heroes" would be ashamed to use it.

The bizarre plot is as follows: Late in World War 2, the heart of the Frankenstein monster is stolen from the lab of Dr. Frankenstein by Axis soldiers. It makes its way to Japan, where it survives the atomic blast in Hiroshima. It then somehow attaches itself to a small boy who survives the Hiroshima blast. He grows and grows and grows. There are a lot of twists on Mary Shelley's legend: Frankenstein can never die, and if you cut off a limb, it grows again!

This film, corny as it is, can be at times compelling. It takes place in Hiroshima and the horror of the Hiroshima bombing hangs over the plot. Star Adams's doctor is an American so horrified by what happened in Hiroshima that he's chosen to travel across the world and treat those still suffering. Frankenstein Conquers the World, while a misleading title, is a silly film, but it's a cut above its genre. The wild plot and classic Toho effects make it worth a rental and a tape if you can catch it on TV. I saw it on American Movie Classics.

Notes: According to an article in Cult Movies magazine, stars Adams and Mizuno had a brief affair; The film was released in the USA by Henry Saperstein's UPA company; There was more than one ending filmed (the ending for this review has the monster sinking into the earth); Toho made one more film with the Frankenstein monster, War of the Gargantuas, starring Russ Tamblyn.

-- Doug Gibson