directed by denny harris
denny harris inc. of california
Set in a boarding house, this film is a pretty decent example of the derive-the-killer’s-identity plotline, the basic premise of which was repeated a few years later by Unhinged, to name at least one imitator. Whereas many such films may cause one to roll his or her eyes at the revelation of the killer and how he or she relates to whomever else, the backstory eventually provided herein – though convoluted, to be sure – is at the least internally consistent. With only a few actual scares and not much onscreen killing to be had – plus some fairly obviously fake blood – this flick makes do largely with the strengths (or weaknesses) of its characters. Not enough time is given for the development of a certain psychosis that shows at the conclusion, but overall it’s an estimable effort … which apparently was a miracle of extensive post-production, as the original was deemed unreleasable. Perhaps that’s why the director remains an unknown, with no other credits to his name.
why did i watch this movie?
The lead actress played “Carol David” on Soap, one of the greatest shows in the entire history of television, and I noticed her name in the cast list.
should you watch this movie?
I feel as though I’ve said this sort of thing before, but if you’re in the mood for a throwback horror experience, it’ll ably fit the bill. It also seems to be pretty obscure, if that interests you.
highlight and low point
Some of the characters are either broadly drawn or transparently disposable, and a few minor impossibilities may nag at you. The climax is admirably suspenseful and relatively novel.
First off, this picture has the most swingin’ soundtrack you’re likely to hear for some time, vast amounts of fusion-era Miles Davis electrobop courtesy of composer Roberto Nicolosi. It also has pretty great examples of breathless, stentorian dubbing for the dialogue. (The title translates as “Eye in the Labyrinth,” if you’re wondering, but the version I watched didn’t bother with all that.) And I spent the early portion of the movie deciding to describe the heroine as “sylphlike,” before discovering at length that she’s not the heroine. Ergo, as is usual for a giallo, nothing much is coherent for most of this flick. Unusually for this type of film, however, eventually everything is explained, and even makes some sort of sense – at least in terms of the story being presented, that is, not in any identifiable reality. Unfortunately, it mostly translates into a mundane mystery. On occasion, it appears as though the cameraman (Giorgio Aureli? Maurizio Maggi?) loses control of his equipment.
For almost two-thirds of this (very) independent picture’s running time, I couldn’t stand the damn thing, mainly because the main character is completely insufferable, dampening whatever alleged “humor” I was supposed to be getting from the subpar scriptwriting. Besides which, nothing much happens during this hour, and I was getting pretty tired of looking at the hideous, dated togs sported by some of the clowns in the cast. At long last, however, the dead finally rise from their graves – this cannot possibly count as a “spoiler” – and mostly redeem things … but not for the reasons you may suppose. No, what really turned my opinion of this movie is the sound design, because as the corpses claw their way out of the earth (with suspicious ease) and start to stalk their way around the garishly designed and oddly luminescent cemetery and grounds – the film looks much the way colorized “classics” do, the effect at times almost fauvist – the soundtrack begins BLARING all sorts of unexpected, unrelenting sonic surprises. Was that a cow? I wondered. Is that a foghorn? Is this an Edgard Varèse composition? Man alive (hahaha), is it terrific. The silent final scene is great as well.
When setting out to watch this ’70s obscurity, I had no idea the sort of sleazefest I’d be enjoying. In one especially enlightening sequence, a bored and oversexed housewife emulates Of Mice and Men with the mentally challenged handyman, after which she is confronted by her daughter-in-law – the current paramour of an ex-conquest – and a breasts-exposing catfight ensues. The daughter-in-law subsequently goes to bed with the disputed boyfriend. Meanwhile, the other adult female on the premises is drinking heavily and badgering her shlump of a husband, played by Sorrell Booke. As this is happening, five deranged children who have survived a bus accident break into the secluded lodge-style home in which all of the above are weekending, and beat to death their pursuant erstwhile handler – in slow motion. This movie becomes quite unsettling as it unspools … but its creepiest component lies behind the scenes. Mid-seventies flash in the pan Leif Garrett plays one of the murderous kids (“Charlie”), as does his younger sister Dawn Lyn (“Moe”), and their mother (Carolyn Stellar) plays the sexpot, “Lovely,” who eventually is killed off, topless in the bath, by Moe. Hollywood family values – now that’s chilling.
One of the more perverse films you’re ever likely to see outside of niche porn, this notorious Greek exploitation picture revels in sadistic glee – often focusing directly upon said glee on the protagonists’ faces. One can only wonder the distasteful levels director (Nico) Mastorakis could have reached had this film been lensed in modern times. As it is, however, more than a few of the catalogue of murders depicted here may be somewhat difficult to stomach – literally, in the instance of the victim forced to drink paint. Honestly, as the perpetrators’ acts escalate, it sometimes feels as if the director had a list of moral or criminal offenses that he wanted to portray. [Editorial note: I just found this on IoD‘s official website: “After listing the most depraved sexual acts he could conceive, Mastorakis wrote the script in a week.”] The movie does have a working framework, however, along with an admittedly dark sense of humor, and never relents. All told, an accomplished feature debut. (Being reviled internationally IS an accomplishment.)
With all the makings of a cult classic, it’s a shame that this plodding soap opera can’t deliver the horror equivalent of, say, Reefer Madness. It does have a dippy drug subplot, though. This turgid melodrama also is in possession of outlandish, dated dialogue that probably felt just as forced and inauthentic then as now, along with a Californian Korean War vet with a British accent and an incestuous relationship, a runaway hippie chick, an Afro-sporting reporter for an underground newspaper called Young People’s Press, a steadfast law ‘n’ order sheriff and his deputies, an aging stripper and a death scene featuring a meat cleaver. Oh, and presumable cannibalism. Despite such an enviable list, this curio fails to keep one’s attention for long. One surmises it may have been intended to Make a Statement about Issues of the Day. The tearjerker ending is unexpected.
FINALLY, a movie that will permit me to use the term “amanuensis” correctly. One that is basically a softcore flick with a few dodgy killings thrown in the mix, along with some largely meaningless flashbacks. Linda Hayden plays Linda Hindstatt, the amanuensis to a bestselling author, and it seems somebody has some shady secrets, or something. (Also, sex.) Various characters get “murdered” by a knife slashing at the camera or eliminated via shotgun; neither method is convincing. This potboiler was nearing its portentous conclusion by the time I realized the amanuensis was being portrayed by the very same actress who appeared as the naked teenage consort of the demon in The Blood on Satan’s Claw – which I probably shoulda realized sooner – so that was pretty exciting. The ending of this picture is not only a letdown and a cop-out, but uncreditable for various reasons, not the least of which being the immediately preceding action.
Remember how you lived in fear of those kids at your high school who went, uh, hang gliding? You know – the ones who pushed everyone around and trashed the library. Oh, and tried to rape those weird hippie girls, and so forth. (Boy, that one kid had the grooviest custom van, though, didn’t he.) It was just such a shame about the poor kid, and the deaf one, and the fat one. Well, turns out what your school needed was a good allegory, as this excellent teensploitation film proves. A precursor to other films – scenes and characters herein must have served as inspiration for such celluloid classics as Heathers – and a predictor of symptoms of cultural decline (a kid in a TRENCH COAT perpetrates most of the mayhem in the latter half ), this production never fails to entertain. You may wonder how that’s possible at times, much as you may find the motivation of a few of the characters inscrutable, but ridiculous or not, it’ll hold your attention. Possibly its metaphorical qualities deserve the credit. 
This title might seem a misnomer, as this mild-mannered British production does not provide its audience much in the way of chills or thrills. For characters in the movie, I suppose the moniker may be more apt, but many of the emotions on display are too restrained for such easy classification. Some anger is displayed, sure, and the young lass played by Susan George spends much of her screen time FREAKING OUT – her mewling, whimpering, sobbing, puling and so forth obscuring her Saxon patois till it’s all but incomprehensible at times – but all this really accomplishes is to annoy the living hell out of certain viewers, such as this one. This film actually is more or less a rumination on various mental states, and does not convey the sensation one reasonably might expect. It does, however, contain a few oddities. The police are depicted as almost comically inutile, seemingly by design, and a thought-provoking sequence involves one of them getting “the gun” out of its secure locked storage. Cultural differences! In addition, one of the characters is a toddler who seems sedated throughout much of his screen time. Overall, the picture feels rather disjointed and haphazard.
Tracking a serial killer who seems to be an amalgam of Ted Bundy and one of the Hillside Stranglers, a tough, no-nonsense cop consults a psychologist, who concocts a profile he shares with a cop buddy from a different jurisdiction. Meanwhile, trouble at home. And all these hitchhiking young girls keep turning up dead. Then some cat-and-mouse. A dangerous gambit. Finally, tough decisions; rough justice. More of a police procedural than a horror flick and largely lacking graphic detail – albeit with a scene involving nudity that seems spliced in from a different movie – it’s kind of hard to tell what was the target venue and/or audience for this one. It plays like a made-for-TV movie for the most part. The obligatory Gruff Police Captain sports some interesting haberdashery.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 