Archive for Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou Helps a GIRL ON THE RUN (1953)

Posted in 1950s Movies, 2013, B-Movies, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Carnival Chills, Crime Films, Dancing Girls!, Femme Fatales, Film Noir, Gangsters!, William Carl Articles with tags , , , , , , , on February 14, 2013 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

William D. Carl

This week’s feature presentation:

GIRL ON THE RUN (1953)

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Welcome to Bill’s Bizarre Bijou, where you’ll discover the strangest films ever made.  If there are alien women with too much eye-shadow and miniskirts, if papier-mâché monsters are involved, if your local drive-in insisted this be the last show in their dusk till dawn extravaganza, or if it’s just plain unclassifiable – then I’ve seen it and probably loved it.   Now, I’m here to share these little gems with you, so you too can stare in disbelief at your television with your mouth dangling open.  Trust me, with these flicks, you won’t believe your eyes.

Film noir is one of my favorite sub-genres in the industry.  With its double crossing dames, doomed heroes, dark shadowy alleys and sets, and general bad attitude, the noir genre contains the darkest mysteries in an already shrouded playing field.  Films like DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), DETOUR (1945), THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1946), and the amazing OUT OF THE PAST (1947) established the guidelines of noir, although pulp fiction books and magazines had been promoting such grimy, sordid tales for many years.

Along comes 1953, and with it, one of the grubbiest, sleaziest film noirs of all time – GIRL ON THE RUN.  This one takes place in a traveling carnival, therefore making it – what? – carny noir?  Hoochie coochie crime drama?  In any case, it’s a real find, and it’s a hoot and a half if you’ve imbibed earlier in the evening.  Which I highly recommend.

The titles roll over the strains of John Phillips Sousa, and we get a look at the carnival, complete with Ferris Wheel, funhouse (with a laughing clown that’ll give you nightmares for weeks), a merry-go-round, and, most important, a burlesque coochie dancer show!  A hen-pecked man escapes his wife and makes for the girlie show, where they gyrate with feathers sticking out of their butts like cut-rate exotic birds, with black kitty-kat masks, and sequined bras and grandma-panties.  A dwarf, Blake, (played by Charles Bolander who was also in DARK INTRUDER, 1965), runs the carnival and hangs out behind the coochie tent with the main girlie attraction, Gigi.  He discovers that a vice probe on the carnival has been suspended and the reporter who instigated the investigation has been fired and is on the run from the mob.  A beat cop also goes behind the curtain to keep an eye on things, making the little guy furious.  Turns out, the editor in charge of the paper that called off the investigation has been murdered, and the sarge thinks the young reporter who was fired did it.  The reporter, Bill Martin (played by TV’s Captain Midnight himself, Richard Coogan) and his girlfriend, Janet, luckily happen to be right behind the curtain while this conversation takes place.  He needs to hide in the carnival to prove his innocence and someone named Reeves’s guilt.  Janet is standing by her man, but she also needs to hide.  The cops are everywhere in the carnival, so they require disguises.  So, Bill becomes a boxer in the fighting tent and Janet puts on the sequined black bra and granny-panties and mask of the coochie chorus line.

The dwarf among the girls.

The dwarf among the girls.

After the show, the dancers cackle like a bunch of hens, watched over by an older woman who smokes cigars and cracks wise.  Soon, its costume changes (exposing just enough leg), and they’re out front with the barker.  “All right now folks,” he shouts, “Take yer time.  Don’t hurry.  We don’t want ya’ to hurt yourselves.  I now give you a cavity of beauty, a peerless pulchritude all set to entertain you.  A treat for the lovers of real art.  An exhibition to make the old feel young and the young feel better!  Six tantalizing morsels of loveliness from every corner of the world” (Cut to a lip-smacking bull lesbian in the crowd watching the show enthusiastically!)  “I now present to you . . . hey, this ain’t a show for boys.  This is for adults only.  All right boys, beat it.  Come back in ten years.”  We then get treated to six slightly overweight dancers trying to look exotic.  Fatima of the Veils; Dolores, who shows the boys a little rumba; as well as the horsiest face ever committed to celluloid, Miss Pineapple of 1953 aka Love on the Dole!  It’s actually a lot of fun to watch these time-capsule dancers who strut their stuff and bare just enough skin to earn a PG rating nowadays.  We finish with the star, Gigi, from Paris (Kentucky).

Bring on the dancing girls!

Bring on the dancing girls!

Reeves visits the dwarf, who’s angry at the presence of all the cops when the whole vice investigation has been called off.  Reeves is looking for Janet, who’s seen too much . . . like a murder?  Reeves starts obsessing over Gigi.  While the old woman, Lil,  who oversees the dressing and undressing of the girls, helps Janet turn into a coochie dancer.   Janet asks, “Is that all you expect me to wear?”  The old woman asks, “You ain’t deformed are you?  Put it on!”  Turns out, Janet knows about a girl from the chorus line that Reeves “got in trouble” last year and who disappeared, so Reeves is actually in charge of running the town as well as the prostitutes out of the carnival.   Lil hates Reeves as well, because she’s married to his boss, and Reeves will do anything to be Mr. Big on top of the town.

Blake the dwarf talks turkey to Boxer Bill.

Blake the dwarf talks turkey to Boxer Bill.

The dwarf, Blake, blackmails Reeves for twenty thousand dollars, because he has a lot on Reeves, although we don’t know what.  Meanwhile, Lil convinces the other girls to circle their pasties around Janet to protect her from Reeves’s prying eyes.

Bill Martin, reporter (remember him?), becomes a volunteer to fight the champ in the boxing ring, almost knocking the big galoot unconscious.  He was supposed to take a dive, but instead he becomes the new champ attraction!

Gigi goes into her dance, and we see why she’s the star of the burlesque show.  Yowza!  Wearing bat-wing veils and a leather bikini, she gyrates to a sultry sax solo.  And, hey. . . in the audience . . . is that?  Steve McQueen?  From THE BLOB (1958), THE GREAT ESCAPE (1963), THE SAND PEBBLES (1966), and BULLITT (1968)?   It is!  In fact, it was his first role in a feature.  He doesn’t say anything, but it’s freaking Steve McQueen, so the movie just got fifty percent cooler.

The dwarf strikes an uneasy alliance with Bill, offering him a job until they get over the state line.  Bill accepts, but not before Janet has to dance semi-nude in public.  Oh, the shame!  The horror!  But she nearly pulls it off.  Reeves, however, can count, and he notices there’s an extra girl in the hoochie line.  Lil goes after Reeves with her fingernails, and he shouts, “After twenty years, you’re interfering with my life again!”  Reeves figures out Janet is the witness, and a trap is set for Bill using Janet as bait!  But the leering dwarf wants to save her . . . if she’ll do something for him.  Wink wink, nudge nudge.

The double crosses and the fights keep coming until the bodies start piling up.  Lil narcs on Reeves and his soiled past, Bill may be throwing Janet over for another dame, the dwarf seems to be lying to everyone in America, and Gigi has her own agenda.

The script by Arthur J. Beckhard (who previously wrote Shirley Temple movies for God’s sake!  CURLY TOP and OUR LITTLE GIRL, both 1935 – shame shame shame, Mr. Beckhard!) and Cedric Worth is a muddle.  The pacing is all over the place, although it never seems slow.  The dialogue is mostly hateful and bitter, which makes everything better.  The photography is suitably dark, and the carny atmosphere is sordid and grimy.  The actors all do what they can with the material, but it’s kind of a hopeless cause.

Girls girls girls!

Girls! Girls! Girls!

GIRL ON THE RUN is a really fun little carny noir that zips along for its brief 64 minute running time.  You get a somewhat complicated plot with little back story, a shooting, slimy, mustache twirling villains, catfights, rescues,  insane plot twists, and more double crosses that you can shake a scary clown at.  Whenever things get slow, they bring out the dancing girls!  And really, what’s wrong with that?  One part of Gigi’s act is so good, they show it twice.  Plus, a cameo by Steve McQueen and boxing and corrupt cops.   Now, that’s entertainment.

And did I mention it has dancing girls?

I give GIRL ON THE RUN three coochie dancers out of four.

© Copyright 2013 by William D. Carl

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Bill’s Bizarre Bijou’s TOP 20 MOVIES OF 2012

Posted in 2012, 2013, Best Of Lists, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Comedies, Drama, Horror, Musicals, Science Fiction, Superheroes, William Carl Articles with tags , , , , , , on January 3, 2013 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

Presents

Top 20 Movies of 2012

I hate admitting it, but 2012 turned out to be an exceptional year for film entertainment.  When I made out my list of favorites for the year, I was astounded to find twenty six movies listed, and these were the ones I really, REALLY liked.  So, in all fairness to the year that was, I am making a list of twenty best this year.  Please keep in mind, I have not been able to view everything released.  I still haven’t seen THE MASTER, ZERO DARK THIRTY, PROMISED LAND, and others, but I have seen the films listed below, and they were all terrific in their own way.

And now, counting backwards:

20. THE AVENGERS – A comic book movie done right!  Exciting, funny, if a  bit too long; it was always entertaining.

19. SAVAGES – Oliver Stone brings us a wickedly twisted take on Don Winslow’s great novel and gives Salma Hayek her best role ever as a Mexican drug kingpin.

18. CABIN IN THE WOODS – A hoot and a half for horror lovers, this clever film turned the viewer into an active participant.

17. MAGIC MIKE – Filmed in beautiful pastel hues, this is more than a stripper movie; it’s a rom-com with just the right bit of silliness to combat the sweet.  I hate admitting how good this is or how good Channing Tatum is in the lead.

16. THE RAID: REDEMPTION – Asian action to the tenth degree, this movie was more exciting than a hundred Hollywood blockbusters at a hundredth of the budget.

15. JOHN CARTER – Maligned by critics who never read Edgar Rice Burroughs, this is a faithful, old-fashioned and FUN film that brought out the twelve year old boy in me.

14.THE BAY – I thought I hated found footage films by now, but Barry Levinson made it fresh again with a truly horrifying take on a parasitic outbreak.  It brought immediacy to the drama without making me scream “Put down the damn camera and run!” at the screen.  Best horror film of the year.

Automatik Entertainment

13. PITCH PERFECT – Aca-hilarious!  This does for acappella choirs what BRING IT ON (2000) did for cheerleading.  A funny, wise-assed script, terrific music, and the best use ever for a John Hughes ending.  I loved this even though I knew I shouldn’t.

12. THE PIRATES! BAND OF MISFITS and WRECK IT RALPH– Who expects wit in a cartoon?  These are both full of wit and wonder, beautifully animated, funny, and better than anything Pixar has done in years.

11. THE IMPOSTER- Riveting documentary about a boy who disappeared and the young man who claimed, four years later, to be that missing kid.  Why didn’t the family report him to the police when it is so obvious he wasn’t their son?

10. LIFE OF PI – Easily the most beautiful and transcendent of the top twenty, Ang Lee’s terrifying story of a boy trapped on a life raft with a Bengal Tiger is scary and moving, opening up questions about truth and story-telling.  Every writer should watch this one.

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9. LINCOLN – Absorbing historical film with a riveting performance by Daniel Day Lewis.  Some say it is slow moving, but the scenes of Congress battling over the future of slavery are gripping and beautifully written and directed.  Spielberg’s best film since 2005’s MUNICH.

8. BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD – Nobody I know saw this lyrical, gorgeous, fascinating story of a childhood in poverty and the beauty a little girl creates within her fantasy world to block out reality.  Rectify this and watch it now.

7. LOOPER – The best science fiction movie in years.  Thoughtful, well-acted, and intense in ways most thrillers aren’t.  Welcome back to the fold, Bruce Willis. We missed you.

6. MOONRISE KINGDOM – Wes Anderson’s lovely film about childhood and how we want to protect our children from themselves.  It’s also a perfect blend of whimsy and Anderson’s perfect visual compositions.

5. SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED – A wonderful comedy that sneaks up on you and remains with you forever.  Snarkiness is rampant, but the heart of this movie is worn on its sleeve, and the ending will make you believe in love and the impossible.

safetynotguaranteed

4. DJANGO UNCHAINED – Quentin Tarantino’s homage to Italian Westerns is an incredible piece of work with numerous great performances, terrific music and songs, the best shoot-out since THE WILD BUNCH (1969), and the funniest scene ever involving the KKK.

3. ARGO – Possibly the most entertaining movie of the year with a great script, tight direction, lots of suspense, humor, and John Goodman and Alan Arkin in career bests.  This is crackerjack Hollywood filmmaking, the kind you rarely see anymore, and everything in it works.  Ben Afleck has become one of our best directors.  How the hell did that happen?

2. SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK – This is how  you make a crowd pleaser without resorting to mawkishness and pandering.  Two fragile, emotionally disturbed people meet, become friends, and help each other win a dance contest.  Sounds hokey, right?  It isn’t.  This movie is so well acted and directed that I can’t imagine anyone not being moved by it.

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1. LES MISERABLES – With all the faults of the stage play, this is still a wondrous experience in a theater.  The actors sang their songs live – something unheard of in movie musicals – with varying results, but the immediacy and emotion this brought out of the score make this the closest we’ll ever get to a live Broadway Show on film.  Plus, someone just engrave Anne Hathaway’s name on the Oscar now.  I was reduced to an emotional puddle by the end, as was the entire audience.

*****

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WORST FILM OF THE YEAR – No competition!  BATTLESHIP was everything an action movie shouldn’t be…overblown, overlong, dull, unfunny, badly acted, with the dumbest script I have ever heard.  My mouth hung ajar over this fiasco.  And not in a good, “let’s make fun of it” manner!  This snoozefest blew up everything in its path and still nearly put me to sleep.

Honestly, what a great year!

© Copyright 2013 by William D. Carl

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Something to Hold You Over Til the Reviews Come Back…

Posted in 2012, Staff Writers with tags , , , , on July 23, 2012 by knifefighter

One of the rare times that a bunch of Cinema Knife Fight staff members had a chance to get together and hang out.

(From left to right): Michael Arruda (holding black cup), William Carl (“Bill’s Bizarre Bijou”), Nick Cato (“Suburban Grindhouse Memories”), Sheri Sebastian-Gabriel (“Lady Anachronism’s Fallout Shelter”), L.L. Soares (wearing baseball cap), Peter Dudar (“Me and Lil’ Stevie”) and John Harvey.

With a few people crashing in the background.

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Bill’s Bizarre Bijou: SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTERS (1957)

Posted in "So Bad They're Good" Movies, 2012, 50s Horror, B-Movies, Bad Acting, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Mexican Horror, Monsters, Sea Creatures, Swamp Movies with tags , , , , , on July 19, 2012 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

William D. Carl

This Week’s Feature Presentation:

SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTERS (1957)

Welcome to Bill’s Bizarre Bijou, where you’ll discover the strangest films ever made. If there are alien women with too much eye-shadow and miniskirts, if papier-mâché monsters are involved, if your local drive-in insisted this be the last show in their dusk till dawn extravaganza, or if it’s just plain unclassifiable – then I’ve seen it and probably loved it. Now, I’m here to share these little gems with you, so you too can stare in disbelief at your television with your mouth dangling open. Trust me, with these flicks, you won’t believe your eyes!

We go south of the border this week for our swamp picture to complete my trilogy of swampy summer goodness. And oh boy, is this a weird one. THE SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTERS – 1957 (the final plurality of the monster(s) is almost covered up by the right edge of the screen, but everything I can find on this lost treasure is the singular SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTER), is a Mexican import from kiddie matinee guru K. Gordon Murray, who bought these things on the cheap and dubbed them on the cheaper. Murray specialized in Mexican horror movies and oddities, unleashing brain-numbing madness onto the innocent minds of Eisenhower Saturday matinee movie-goers. He brought us such wonders as THE ROBOT VS. THE AZTEC MUMMY (1958), SCANDAL IN FAIRYLAND (1957), and, of course, the unbelievable SANTA CLAUS (1959) where little children team up with Santa to kill Satan and his demons!  Oh the Christmas joy!  Well, Murray also dubbed and distributed THE SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTER aka THE SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTERS aka THE SWAMP OF LOST SOULS.

The credits, scrolled over a picture of skulls and ghosts, proudly announce that the film stars Gaston Santos and his horse ‘Moonlight’. In real life, Gaston Santos was a renowned bullfighter, who often challenged his bulls on horseback. He was also a hack actor in several Mexican cheapies such as THE BLACK PIT OF DR. M (1959) and THE LIVING COFFIN (1959). When you’re shown up by your own second billed horse, you know you just aren’t made for the movies.

The story starts with a funeral, in which a coffin is rowed across a lake (or maybe the swamp?) to a shore riddled with weeping women in black (actually a very striking image). The widow, Maria, demands a glimpse of her dead husband, and the coffin lid is raised, even though the men rowing the boat inform her he was “killed by the beast.”  Then, one of them turns around and says he may have died from some disease. Still, the widow accompanies the men across the lake, riding atop the coffin, to bury her late hubby. Her son arrives, a dashing young man on horseback, who also demands to see the corpse. When the casket is opened, the body has disappeared. Cue many furious signs of the crosses and ‘Santa Marias!’

That evening, a very sad, grade-Z CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON knock-off stalks the  grounds of Maria’s mansion. This monster is hilarious, with an oversized fish head, nearly invisible scuba gear on its back, and googly eyes. This ‘lost monster’ should’ve stayed lost; it’s really that pathetic.

Move over all you other sea monsters! The Lost Monster is in town!

The pallbearers (rowboat bearers?) are plotting something, even as Maria’s niece, the manly Julieta, tries to comfort her with their faithful servant Carmela. The dashing nephew makes a dash for the next ranch, where Gaston Santos, rancher and private detective (!) is amusing everyone with Moonlight, his amazing dancing horse. Yes, the horse does actually dance, and it’s cute, but only until the nephew drops dead at his feet, muttering something about cholera and a monster that attacked him. Well, Gaston just has to see what this is all about, so he rides along with his comedy-relief side-kick Squirrel Eyes, who’s like a Mexican Pinky Lee, lisping and singing like Al Jolson. Squirrel Eyes is attacked by the monster after he falls into the swamp because he stood up in a canoe. The whole time we are underwater with the creature, we can still hear the birds in the trees above Squirrel Eyes, who escapes the creature, who, for an aquatic beast, isn’t very fast in the water. Must be all that bulky scuba equipment strapped to its back or the baggy orange rubber costume. Squirrel Eyes must be truly terrified, because he keeps calling the monster a ‘Martian.’  Someone takes a pot shot at Squirrel Eyes but hits Gaston, who takes off after the villain in the slowest chase scene ever.

The manly Julieta is sweet on Gaston Santos!

Gaston goes to the doctor and gets bandaged up, and we see he’s certainly a strapping young man!  He’s very muscular and handsome for the time. Anyway, he goes on to Maria’s mansion, where he starts investigating the mystery of the disappearing corpse and the gruesome gill man. Little does he know, the doctor who bandaged him has a wireless Morse Code set in his desk and he alerts someone…to something.

Several gauchos have fun throwing stuff at a wall, but their boss tells them no more games. Gaston gets into a bar brawl in town, but after he whips everyone’s butts, the boss of the ranch at the mansion arrives to take him to the widow’s house. He impresses Julieta with his suave dancing horse skills, and the girl smiles at him, exhibiting no sexual chemistry whatsoever. The actress who plays Julieta is a strange-looking woman with the face of Michael Jackson in his whitest years and a Loretta Young wig. It turns out her uncle had an insurance policy that benefits his brother, not the widow. And the bank may take her house soon!

Squirrel Eyes goes fishing and catches the body of the gravedigger. “Aye Chihuahua!”   Carmela finds out the widow Maria has second sight, and she sees that someone is going to try and kill her. She also has another secret—she’s gone blind, and she’s been fooling the villagers for months. Now, she can’t see anything, but she feels better with a gun in her hand. I’m pretty sure everyone else in the house isn’t quite so comfortable having a blind old lady with a revolver bumping into walls and shooting whenever she hears someone getting close!

The creature stalks up on the two lovebird wannabes and the monster fires a spear gun at them!  Monsters have lousy aim, however, as it misses them completely and nearly wings Squirrel Eyes (oh please let him die, please!). There’s a bit of a chase, and Gaston strips down to a red Speedo, dives into the water, and wrestles with the rubbery critter for several minutes while his obviously rubber knife wobbles and wiggles in the water. A fiesta takes place nearby…complete with a whole slew of dancing horses and firecrackers. The monster gets away, but it uses the Morse Code machine to send a message. To whom?  Some fan mail from some flounders?

Obviously, this monster is no monster!  But who is it?  Will Maria be ruined by the insurance scheme?  Will Gaston solve the mystery of the disappearing body?  Will we ever discover why he’s wearing red Speedo swim trunks under his white cowboy outfit?  Will Moonlight ever get a dancing partner?  After a weird comedic Keystone Kops-style fight with clumsily staged slapstick and another fight between the creature and Gaston (who beats the crap out of the poor beastie with a two by four), we discover all the answers.

Gaston beats the crap out of the “Monster.”

And by the way, there’s only one monster, so why is this THE SWAMP OF THE LOST MONSTERS?  And the single monster was never even lost!  This is what happens when the smartest character in the movie is the horse.

THE SWAMP OF LOST MONSTERS is a really bad movie, but somehow, the cinematography is quite good in many scenes, evoking shadowy sets and eerie swamp sets. Someone behind the camera had some talent – cinematographer Raul Martinez Solares, who also shot NIGHT OF THE BLOODY APES (1969), THE RIVER AND DEATH (1955), and numerous Mexican Lucha films starring Santo. It’s too bad it didn’t trickle down to the screenwriter, the actors, the dubbing specialists, or the director. Still, this is the kind of bad movie that’s a lot of fun, despite its lousiness. Where else are you going to get cowboys, Mexican Catholic funerals, a zipper-backed monster, fiestas, scary heroines that resemble drag queens, dancing horses, handsome, hunky heroes in Speedos, hilarious Mexican stereotypes, insurance scams, an ending right out of Scooby Doo, and more people conversing in Morse Code than two dozen boy scout troops?  With some buddies and a few dozen margaritas, this becomes a real treat for fright fans.

I give THE SWAMP OF LOST MONSTERS two and a half ‘Aye Chihuahuas!’ out of four.

-END-

© Copyright 2012 by William D. Carl

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Bill’s Bizarre Bijou Takes a Swim in SWAMP WATER (1941)

Posted in 1940s Films, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Crime Films, Fugitives, Killers, Melodrama, Swamp Movies, William Carl Articles with tags , , , , , on June 21, 2012 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

William D. Carl

This Week’s Feature Presentation:

SWAMP WATER (1941)

Welcome to Bill’s Bizarre Bijou, where you’ll discover the strangest films ever made.  If there are alien women with too much eye-shadow and miniskirts, if papier-mâché monsters are involved, if your local drive-in insisted this be the last show in their dusk-till-dawn extravaganza, or if it’s just plain unclassifiable—then I’ve seen it and probably loved it.   Now, I’m here to share these little gems with you, so you too can stare in disbelief at your television with your mouth dangling open.  Trust me, with these flicks, you won’t believe your eyes!

It’s ninety-five degrees outside as I write this, and it’s so humid you could cut the air with a knife.  Therefore, the weather is dictating my summer choice of a trilogy of swamp movie reviews over the next month.  What better time to remember the great swamp pictures than when they used to be shown at the local drive-ins, complete with terrier-sized mosquitoes (unless you bought one of those coiled smoke thingies)?

Jean Renoir was the son of famous Impressionist painter Pierre Auguste Renoir, and he was also considered France’s greatest living director in the 1930s.  He directed, and most often wrote, one masterpiece after another, films that would still be studied and adored in the next century, films like BOUDU SAVED FROM DROWNING (1932), THE LOWER DEPTHS (1936), LA GRANDE ILLUSION (1937), and LA BETE HUMAINE (1938).  In 1939, he made THE RULES OF THE GAME, a comedy of manners and a harsh indictment against the bourgeois and pretty much any other class system.  The film infuriated the French, who truly take their cinema to heart, and it also disturbed the Nazis, who occupied the country at the time, with its left-wing politics.  The film was a flop, and Renoir decided if he was going to keep making movies, he would immigrate to America, thus escaping the Nazis’ condemnation, while still retaining his director’s chair, only this time in Hollywood.  He arrived in New York City with his wife and the author of “The Little Prince,” Antoine de Saint-Exupery.  Within weeks, he was in Hollywood, signed to Twentieth Century Fox by Francophile Darryl F. Zanuck.  What would be his first film in the United States?  A great war film?  An ant-Nazi drama?  A brilliant, elegant comedy?  No, it was a swamp picture: SWAMP WATER (1941) written by Dudley Nichols, who had just had several hits like BRINGING UP BABY (1938) and STAGECOACH (1939), and based on the Saturday Evening Post pot-boiler by Vereen Bell.

In the Okefenokee Swamp, 700 miles of marsh and cypress, Dana Andrews (LAURA – 1944 and CURSE OF THE DEMON – 1957) is Ben, a young man who loses his dog, Trouble (uh-oh, foreshadowing?) while searching for a couple of missing trappers on the edge of the swamp.  Not finding him, he returns home to his father Thursday (Walter Huston of THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE – 1948 and THE FURIES – 1950) and his stepmother Hannah, played by Mary Howard (LOVE FINDS ANDY HARDY – 1938 and ABE LINCOLN IN ILLINOIS – 1940).  Trouble hasn’t returned home, but when Ben says he’s going into the swamp to find Trouble, his Pa goes plumb crazy, shouting and telling him if he goes into the swamp he shouldn’t ever come home again.  He would be disinherited (from what, I wonder, the old shack they live in?)  On his way, he runs into Mabel, his girlfriend, a high-falutin’ woman who yearns for a better life, played by Virginia Gilmore of THE PRIDE OF THE YANKEES (1942).  He gets supplies at the general store, where we meet the rest of the town . . . Marty, who owns the store (the great Russell Simpson of THE GRAPES OF WRATH – 1940 and SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS-1954), two nasty characters, the Dorson Brothers, on their way to drown a bag of kittens (!) played by Ward Bond (IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE – 1946 and THE SEARCHERS – 1956) and Guinn Williams (a heavy in many Westerns, including THE ALAMO – 1960) and a beautiful, wild young woman, the ward (or slave) of the shopkeeper.  Played with a great naiveté by Anne Baxter (ALL ABOUT EVE -1950 and THE TEN COMMANDMENTS- 1956), Julie is a wildcat, a girl abandoned by her father: a convicted murderer who fled into the swamp and is presumed dead.   It’s a rough bunch.

The haunting opening shot from SWAMP WATER (1941)>

Our hero goes on his search for his missing dog into the heart of the swamp, and Renoir actually filmed this on location, unheard of in a film of this time.  The cypress trees, the algae, the water, the sweat, the alligators, and the beautiful play of light on everything is simply gorgeous and stifling.  I can almost feel the fecund air until Ben comes across, who else, Julie’s father, the escaped killer Tom Keefer, played by three time Oscar winner Walter Brennan (STAGECOACH – 1939 and THE WESTERNER – 1941.)  Trouble, it seems, has taken a shine to old Tom, who is hiding out in the deep swamp from the law, but the old man can’t let Ben go back to civilization and reveal where he is.  He ties the boy to a tree and prepares to kill him, but he’s bitten in the face by a cottonmouth, and he falls unconscious.  Ben decides to bury the man, the only proper thing to do, when the old escapee revives.  “If I’da let them things kill me,” he says.  “I’da been dead a long time ago.”  For the young man’s kindness, Tom shows Ben the way out of the swamp.

Fugitive Walter Brennan hiding in the SWAMP WATER.

Meanwhile, local horndog Jesse Wick, played by John Carradine (hundreds of movies) is hitting on Hannah while her husband’s looking for Ben.  His father beats the hide off of him, so Ben takes up in a shack near the general store, where he starts to become closer to the wildcat Julie and makes a living by trapping furs in the Okefenokee.  This, of course, infuriates Mabel, who decides to go to a dance with a Dorson Brother.  Ben accompanies Julie, who cleans up really well!  Ben informs her that her father’s alive, so she starts keeping house for him.

Jesse tries to rape Hannah, but is almost caught by Thursday, who blames his wife.  She can’t say who it is, because she knows Thursday will kill him and she doesn’t want the guilt.  Thursday goes on a quest to find out who his wife is protecting.

It doesn’t take long before the wicked Dorson Brothers and the jealous Mabel get Ben in a headlock and try to drown him, until he tells them Tom is hiding out in the Okefenokee.  Turns out, they know more about the murder than anyone thought, and they go into the swamp to kill Tom Keefer and shut him up.  They’re followed by the sheriff and a posse as well as Ben and Jesse.  The manhunt through the darkened swamp is creepy and quite terrifying.  Will Ben get to Tom in time to warn him?  Will Tom believe the young man or blame him for the men tracking him through quicksand and gator nests?

I won’t give away the ending, but after ninety minutes of dark drama and suspense, it comes out of left field to please wartime audiences.  Zanuck didn’t think anyone would want to see a realistic ending, so he tacked on a sunny bit that seems awfully unrealistic, but it does still work.  Zanuck must have known what he was doing.  Despite his tampering and Jean Renoir’s dissatisfaction with his whole Hollywood experience, SWAMP WATER was one of the five top grossing movies of the year.  Renoir would return to some of the same themes in THE SOUTHERNER (1945 ) and get nominated for an Oscar.

Even with all the cornpone dialog, SWAMP WATER is filled with terrific performances, especially the luminescent Walter Brennan, who just owns every scene he’s in and Anne Baxter, who plays the feral Julie in a way that makes you want to protect her yourself.  Dana Andrews is a bit hopeless at the beginning as an innocent young man, but he evolves into a full grown adult whose heart is too big for the small town he lives in.  The transformation is subtle, but quite wonderful.  John Carradine turns in a performance full of terror and shame, a man who can’t help what he is and is too frightened of life to change.

Dana Andrews comes across an angry Walter Brennan in SWAMP WATER.

The photography is brilliant black and white, with long depths and wavering firelight or dappled sunlight on everything.  Cinematographer J. Peverell Marley (HOUSE OF WAX-1953 and THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES-1939) uses Renoir’s trademark long takes and constantly moving camera.  As beautiful as it is, Marley was a replacement for original photographer Lucien Ballard (THE WILD BUNCH and TRUE GRIT – both 1969), who was fired.  It looks like an art film but it has the Tobacco Road plot of a Southern exploitation hit, so SWAMP WATER is an odd flick, but extremely moving and beautiful piece of Faulkneresque Southern gothic.

Twilight Time has released a limited edition Blu-Ray of this classic swamp picture, and it’s a lulu.  You can see every bead of sweat on every characters mug, every bug flying near the fires in the swamp, every grain of wood on the sad-looking shacks.  It’s a magnificent restoration, and you can even isolate the musical score by David Buttolph (KISS OF DEATH -1947 and THE BEAST FROM 20,000 FATHOMS – 1953), which samples the haunting Red River Valley.  They only made 3,000, so if you want one, you need to hurry.

I give SWAMP WATER three and a half kittens in a bag out of four.

© Copyright 2012 by William D. Carl

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Bill’s Bizarre Bijou Experiences TERROR IN THE JUNGLE (1968)

Posted in "So Bad They're Good" Movies, 2012, 60s Movies, Animals Attack, Bad Acting, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Campy Movies, Cannibals, Drive-in Movies, William Carl Articles with tags , , , , , , on June 7, 2012 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

William D. Carl

This Week’s Feature Presentation:

TERROR IN THE JUNGLE (1968)

Welcome to Bill’s Bizarre Bijou, where you’ll discover the strangest films ever made.  If there are alien women with too much eye-shadow and miniskirts, if papier-mâché monsters are involved, if your local drive-in insisted this be the last show in their dusk till dawn extravaganza, or if it’s just plain unclassifiable—then I’ve seen it and probably loved it.   Now, I’m here to share these little gems with you, so you too can stare in disbelief at your television with your mouth dangling open.  Trust me, with these flicks, you won’t believe your eyes!

PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE (1959), THE CREEPING TERROR (1964), EEGAH! (1962), and SHOWGIRLS (1995) are all laugh-filled, so-bad-they’re-good films that entertain even as they astound us with their ineptitude.  Allow me to introduce you to TERROR IN THE JUNGLE (1968), a practically home-made tale of schlocky adventure and horror in which every scene contains multiple mistakes, atrocious acting, inept editing and directing, and the funniest script that a group of hacks ever thrust in front of an unbelieving audience.  You think I’m kidding?  Let’s get to the plot.

We begin our story on a beach front, split level home where the worst child actor ever (Jimmy Angle, who thankfully never worked again) portrays Henry Clayton Jr.  The tow-headed tyke, barely four years old, is about to embark upon his first airplane ride ever to see his mother.  Clutching his stuffed lion, Henry gets on the plane along with dozens of hilarious stock characters.  There’s Mrs. Sherman, draped in furs, who is attacked by reporters asking if she really killed her husband and hid the bank robbery money.  There are two nuns, accompanying their dead Mother Superior in a wooden coffin.  There’s a bombshell actress, Marion, played by Fawn Silver (ORGY OF THE DEAD-1965!).  She is heading for Rio to film a musical, and she’s played by a gushing brunette who tries unsuccessfully to fill her lines with Jayne Mansfield-esque sexual innuendo.  There’s a trio of musicians in terrible wigs followed by screaming teenage girl fans.  They take their instruments on the plane with them.  Something tells me the guitars wouldn’t fit in the overhead compartments!  Henry Jr., meanwhile weeps and cries incessantly, “Daddy.  Daddy.  Daddy.”

Suddenly, a card pops up over the action stating that this picture was filmed on location in Peru, and the producers would like to thank the wonderful people of Peru for their hospitality.  Now, back to our story.

During the flight, we get to know our stock characters better.  The actress slinks up to Mr. Keyes, a millionaire who flirts with her in a smarmy manner.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she says.

“No more than any other attractive young lady disturbs me,” he says, showing her a magazine.  “Your presence is much better than this.  If there’s anything worse than pornography, it’s badly written pornography.”

As a come on line, it works!

Little Henry is still crying, and his stuffed lion has miraculously turned into a stuffed tiger.  One of the nuns gives her newspaper to Mrs. Sherman, who is greeted with the trumpeting headline “Ruth Sherman Set Free!  Money Still Missing!”  Mrs. Sherman then yells at the nun in fury, “I expected this from the others, but not from a nun!”  An older red-headed woman talks about the lost Incas in Peru and the Jivaros who live as cannibals.  The band immediately pulls out their guitars and plays a request for their song, “Soft Lips:”

“You’ve got what I want, babe.
You got what turns me on.
Soft lips, soft lips, really really really really  soft lips,
I really want you!”

Women dance in the aisles, the nuns rock out, and the plane enters a storm, I think (it’s hard to tell, because the picture goes to a blue screen every time we see the exterior of the plane.)    The pilots struggle with the controls and decide to crash land in the jungle, near the Amazon River.  They first try to get rid of any excess weight, so everyone gives up their suitcases or their instruments.  In the process, Mrs. Sherman’s case flies open and money swirls all around the cabin, while she has a nervous breakdown.  One of the nuns gets sucked out of a door in the clumsiest fall out of a cardboard hatch ever.  As the plane approaches the ground, everyone seriously puts on their life jackets, and the plane crashes, I think.  It’s still hard to see anything other than that darn blue screen and some wispy clouds.  Meanwhile, annoying little Henry’s toy tiger is once again a toy lion!  It’s good to focus on the toy, since the kid can’t even remember his lines.

The crash is actually brutal and swift, with people’s heads bashing into windows and blood flying everywhere.  One woman’s gilded canary cage is thrust into and through her face.  The actress dies in the millionaire’s arms.  “No more promises.  No more … argh.”  Only a few people are left alive, and they jump out of the sinking plane into a river, where alligators immediately attack them.  The remaining cast is devoured in front of the screaming little boy’s eyes!  One at a time, every character that’s been introduced is eaten alive.

The terrible plane crash in TERROR IN THE JUNGLE!

But, poor little Henry Jr.!  He can’t swim.  Luckily, the stewardess and pilot spot the nun’s coffin.  They dump the sister’s body out, put the kid in the coffin, and send him down the river just as the plane explodes killing the last of the survivors.  The entire cast is dead except for the little boy with the magical morphing stuffed toy, who floats on the river while alligators hiss at him from the shores and bump into his boat.  In fact, he floats for what seems like seven hours while sobbing, “Daddy!  Daddy!” and more alligators go after him.

Meanwhile, back in the states, Henry Sr. gets the news that he put his son on a doomed flight, and he heads for Rio to find out more about the missing boy.  Henry Jr. eventually gets out of the water and has the time of his life playing with monkeys.  A Peruvian rescue flight spots his red jacket, and the toy becomes a tiger again.  The stupid rescuers are attacked by Jivaros Indians (remember that mention on the plane?) with blow guns, and abandon the kid.  One pilot is hit by a dart, and his buddy gets him to the safety of a mission, headed by a Peruvian priest who has lost his faith.  Despite his ministrations, the pilot dies.

Luckily, the natives believe Henry Jr. is some sort of god because he has blond hair.  They take the weeping wonder to their village and set him up on a throne.  “Daddy!  Daddy!”  They believe he is the son of their god, Inti.  We know this because the missionary priest can interpret their drums and conch shell calls.

On an impressive Incan Temple set, Henry Jr. is treated to a big dance production number performed to Les Baxter’s jazzy music (didn’t know they had saxophones and xylophones in the jungle.)  Dozens of native women perform a ballet in colorful headdresses and costumes, Martha Graham-style.  Hey, what’s a jungle picture without a perfectly choreographed native-girl dance number?  The music is pretty cool, and … yes, the damn toy has now turned into a spotted leopard.

Henry Sr. arrives in Peru.  After a bit of sight-seeing, he visits a monastery, where he is informed that the red jacket was seen, and he is given the address of a Father Bates who will take him to the mission in the jungle.  So much work to find a kid any parent would be happy to ditch in the wilderness!  That’s probably why he takes time out from his search to watch an entire festival parade go by, and he even tours the local architecture before bothering to get to Father Bates.

Meanwhile, back in the jungle, the Jivaros witch doctor is jealous of the attention Henry Jr. is getting, and he tells the tribe that the boy is the reason the sun has been hidden behind clouds for a week.  Plans are hatched to kill the little boy, all in subtitles with a fake Indian language that sounds exactly like “Ungu bungu banga bunga.”  Thank goodness, the missionary priest overhears the plot, and he sets off to free the little brat.  Henry Sr. arrives just in time to join him on the rescue of his son.

Henry Jr. is tied to an altar made of green bananas, clutching his tiger and, of course, crying his eyes out.  It makes you wonder how they got this little punk to cry so much.  Were they constantly pinching him?  Taking his toy away?  Forcing him to watch the dailies?  In any case, a rival tribe sets the village huts on fire, everyone stabs everyone with long spears and knives in bloody fights, the sun comes out, and Henry Jr.’s stuffed animal turns into a real live leopard that saves him from the evil witch doctor.  Yes, you read that right.  The toy saves the kid, and not even in its lion or tiger form, but in the handy stock footage that was available at the time and a real stuffed immobile leopard.  Deus ex machine, my ass!

Henry Jr. doing what he does best – CRYING!

Then comes the giant snake.  Then, the quicksand.  Then, the piranha attack.  This kid just can’t get a break.

The film is aided by good, if hysterically inappropriate, music by Les Baxter, including “Peru, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, you’re calling, calling, calling, my Peru.” a Tom Jones-style number.  Baxter wrote music for more than a hundred movies, including gems like BEACH PARTY and BLACK SABBATH (1963), HOUSE OF USHER (1960), and THE BEAST WITHIN (1982).

TERROR IN THE JUNGLE’s plane sequences were directed (Ha!) by Tom DeSimone, who began his career editing children’s matinee movies and instructional films.  This was his first feature.  In two years, he would adopt the moniker Lancer Brooks and direct and produce dozens of X-rated gay films like CONFESSIONS OF A MALE GROUPIE (1971), SWAP MEAT (1973), and THE HARDER THEY FALL (1977).  That year, he moved into more straight-forward exploitation drive-in hits, like the hilarious talking vajayjay movie CHATTERBOX (1977), the Linda Blair slasher flick HELL NIGHT (1981), ANGEL III (1988), and REFORM SCHOOL GIRLS (1986), with the great Wendy O’Williams.  He later moved to television, where he directed many episodes of FREDDY’S NIGHTMARES, SWAMP THING, and SUPER FORCE.  Hey, I guess he was always working.

The jungle scenes were directed by Andrew Janzack, who was the cinematographer on such baddies as THE CREEPING TERROR (1964) and THE UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS (1966).  Meanwhile, Alex Graton helmed the spectacular dance sequence at the Incan Temple.  Interestingly, Graton was the producer of UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS, under the name Alejandro Gratton.

How these three men met and made this film will probably forever remain a mystery.

If you love terrible movies, and I mean movies so bad they’ve gone around the curve and emerged as superbly entertaining, then you simply must see TERROR IN THE JUNGLE.  It’s crammed with laughable dialog, atrocious acting, long stretches of Peruvian tourism, bad special effects, stock footage, continuity errors, swinging Sixties fashions, crazy scenes that just seem randomly strung together, the song “Soft Lips,” and the funniest plane crash ever.  All this plus a kid yelling for his Daddy several thousand times.  TERROR IN THE JUNGLE is easily one of the worst/best movies ever made.

I give TERROR IN THE JUNGLE four lions, no leopards, and no tigers out of four.  A true classic of bad cinema waiting to be rediscovered!

© Copyright 2012 by William D. Carl

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Bill’s Bizarre Bijou: FACE OF TERROR (1962)

Posted in 1960s Horror, 2012, Bill's Bizarre Bijou, Foreign Films, Mad Doctors!, Spanish Horror, Surgical Horror, William Carl Articles with tags , , , , , , on May 10, 2012 by knifefighter

Bill’s Bizarre Bijou

William D. Carl

This Week’s Feature Presentation:

FACE OF TERROR (1962)

Welcome to Bill’s Bizarre Bijou, where you’ll discover the strangest films ever made.  If there are alien women with too much eye-shadow and miniskirts, if papier-mâché monsters are involved, if your local drive-in insisted this be the last show in their dusk till dawn extravaganza, or if it’s just plain unclassifiable—then I’ve seen it and probably loved it.   Now, I’m here to share these little gems with you, so you too can stare in disbelief at your television with your mouth dangling open.  Trust me, with these flicks, you won’t believe your eyes!

The “mad plastic surgeon attempting to make scarred chicks beautiful again no matter who they kill” (a.k.a. MPSATNSCVANMWTK)  is a genre staple that just doesn’t want to die.  Starting with the brilliant EYES WITHOUT A FACE (1960), moving through dozens of tacky European examples like CIRCUS OF HORRORS (1960), THE AWFUL DR ORLOFF (1962), and FACELESS (1987), to last year’s brilliant Pedro Almodovar film THE SKIN I LIVE IN (2011) the mad plastic surgeon has indeed lived again and again.  One of the lesser known films in this genre is FACE OF TERROR, a 1962 Spanish movie from Futuramic Releasing.  This twisted little flick is a bit different from most MPSATNSCVANMWTK films.

Fernando Rey (THE FRENCH CONNECTION-1971, SAVING GRACE-1986, VILLA RIDES-1968, THE DISCREET CHARM OF THE BOURGEOUSIE-1972, and more than 200 other films!) stars as Dr. Charles Taylor, who has a new method of fixing scarred and damaged skin.  As he tells the Madrid Institute of Mental Health, he can form a synthetic plastic skin that can be connected to any tissue, but the technique has yet to be tested on human beings.  He wants patients from the insane asylum to become human guinea pigs.  The board of the hospital denies him access to any patients, but who is that woman in white watching through the window?  Why it’s a patient, and she sneaks into the good doctor’s car backseat riding all the way to his home.  Dr. Taylor somehow doesn’t notice her, even though she’s wearing white hospital duds.

Once he’s home, he participates in some sexually-laced banter with his assistant (and sometimes lover) Alma, played by lovely Concha Cuetos (SLUGS-1988 and THE POD PEOPLE-1983).  After Alma leaves, the mental patient confronts the doctor, and she’s a horribly scarred woman with a face like half a pepperoni pizza.  She tells Dr. Taylor she was about to jump off a bridge, and if he doesn’t operate on her right this minute, she’ll kill herself, because “women are far more susceptible to psychological damage due to disfigurement.”  The monster-faced girl is played by the gorgeous (and actually talented) Lisa Gaye (ROCK AROUND THE CLOCK-1956 and more television shows than you can shake a remote at, including such 60s fare as THE BOB CUMMINGS SHOW, SEAHUNT, and HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE).  Of course, when the Doc gets a good look at Norma’s face, he decides to take a chance and perform the procedure.  Cue operating montage followed by waiting in a mummy-like, bandage-wrapped state montage.

Soon, the bandages are off, and she’s even more beautiful than we suspected.  In the meanwhile, we discover this woman, Norma, who escaped to the good doctor’s home/office, is a psychotic killer who is very violent.  She’s “a sick woman, and a very dangerous one.”  The police are notified, and after they see her gruesome head-shot, they decide she’ll be easy to track down.  Anyone with that face would be easy to find.

Dr. Charles Taylor (Fernando Rey) about to take off the bandages of his latest patient, Norma (Lisa Gaye) in FACE OF TERROR.

Norma, infatuated with her new glamorous puss, wants to leave the lab.  Dr. Taylor gives her a formula that will keep her skin from tightening too much or drying out and flaking off (uh-oh!)  Taylor goes to his office and chastises himself, “Body temperature.  I never figured on body temperature!”  When he later coaches her, he discovers the tag on Norma’s wrist that identifies her as a patient at the mental hospital.  He says he’s taking her back, that the operation was illegal because the hospital said he couldn’t use patients.  As he dials the phone, Norma begins to lose it, screaming and shaking, and she finally beans the doctor with a huge chemical bottle.  Norma believes she’s killed her savior, and she escapes, taking the formula with her as well as all his money.  Alma arrives back at the laboratory and finds her lover on the floor in a coma.  He’s taken to a hospital, where he eventually awakens…with amnesia!

Here’s where FACE OF TERROR veers off into its own crazy film, steering clear of the usual clichés of the MPSATNSCVANMWTK sub-genre.  The plastic surgeon is the good guy and the woman he’s experimented upon is the evil creature with a new face, a mental patient and homicidal maniac.  We have the “monster” running around with a brand new face, nothing like the photos of the disfigured girl the police possess, and the doctor can’t recall what she even looked like when he was done with her.  And he’s suffered nerve damage!

Norma buys a stylish wardrobe and gets a job at a nightclub where men are soon prowling after her like horny wolves in heat.  The want-ad states ‘Waitress, Enjoy Beautiful Vacation-Land, Must be young, attractive, & personable.’  Well, that fits her to a ‘T’.  Soon, the manager of the place is pawing her, a patron won’t take no for an answer, and Norma’s face requires a lot of touch-ups with the formula.  The flaking plastic skin effect is truly icky and effective, and every time it happens, Norma gets a little crazier.  Soon, she kills one man in a fit of rage, but she also knocks over her bottle of magic skin formula.

She returns to Dr. Taylor, now recuperating at home in a wheelchair.  Demanding more of the formula, Norma throws a hissy-fit that would make any two-year-old child proud.  “You did this to me,” she screams.  “I came to you for help, and you did…this…to ME!  Don’t tell me what I should have done!  Give me that fluid!  You’re against me!  Everyone is against me!  I hate you all!”  She grabs a bottle of acid (isn’t there always a bottle of acid in every mad plastic surgeon’s lab?  Just in case?) and she chases the doctor in his wheelchair around the office.  Then, Alma comes back and quite a cat fight ensues.  The doctor is crawling across the floor to find a weapon…

Will Norma kill the doctor and his lover?  Will she disfigure Alma?  How many other men will die while the totally ineffective cops sit in their office and discuss what could possibly be happening out there in the real world?  You’ll have to watch to find out.

One of the truly odd features of FACE OF TERROR is the fact that it was filmed in English even though it was made in Spain.  All of the actors read their lines phonetically, and most of them come off as idiot savants or as escapees from mental ward’s themselves.  It lends a surreal air to the whole film, raising it to a whole new level of strangeness.  As if FACE OF TERROR needed to be stranger.

After her surgery, Norma (Lisa Gaye) finds out she has quite a way with men, in FACE OF TERROR.

FACE OF TERROR was written by Monroe Manning, who supposedly directed the classic 1961 sexploitation film THE TOUCHABLES (although this isn’t certain).  As well as writing this sicko black and white wonder, he also supervised the American version of FACE OF TERROR and was also the art director!  Later, he went on to write most of the episodes of the television shows LASSIE and FLIPPER!  Such a diverse career deserves a round of applause.

FACE OF TERROR was co-directed by Isidoro M. Ferry and William J. Hole Jr., who also directed THE DEVIL’S HAND (1961), SPEED CRAZY (1959), and the wonderful GHOST OF DRAGSTRIP HOLLLOW (1959).  All exploitation classics.

The cast, especially the luminous Lisa Gaye and the stodgy Fernando Rey (only a few years away from respectable roles in major films), is fine, even when phonetically mumbling their lines or getting dubbed in what sounds like a bell chamber.  The production values are all fine, and the black and white cinematography by Jose F. Aguayo is very nice.  Aguayo also lensed such foreign classics as Luis Bunuel’s TRISTANA (1970) and VIRIDIANA (1961), so the man knew what he was doing, and the whole film looks crisp and quite beautiful.

Throw in a rock ‘n’ roll number; a rushed wedding, complete with flaking skin; a car chase; a flamenco dance scene; someone pushed down an elevator shaft; and another gory murder, and you have a wildly entertaining MPSATNSCVANMWTK.

I found FACE OF TERROR on the Creepster TV Network, but Sinister Cinema also sells a pretty good DVR of it.

I give FACE OF TERROR three plastic skin grafts out of four.

© Copyright 2012 by William D. Carl

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