directed by herb freed
american general pictures/entertainment services international
An oddity, this number is mostly a small-town slice-of-life crime thriller until its misleading, byzantine conclusion. Apparently issued on DVD without restoration, it looks terrible, and I was amused to find out its washed-out palette was allegedly purposeful. Aldo Ray as the sheriff is believable in his role, but anything else that’s noteworthy here merely relates to the presentation of a time and a way of life that are both long gone. Its weary, lived-in 1970s feeling kept it interesting for longer than was probably warranted. By the time the goings-on start getting sorted out, they get tangled up again, and you will have lost your patience by this point, particularly with the main character. She’s being stalked! Or maybe she isn’t. The local Casanova is a rapist, perhaps worse! Or IS he. “Better not book him just yet, we got the killer cornered down at the sawmill,” one character telephones. But what of the local parson, the uncle, the goat? The ending, like much of the rest, is a muddle.
why did i watch this movie?
Well, it should have been entertaining.
should you watch this movie?
If you are fascinated by forgotten stars of yesteryear, the requisite also-rans and the never-weres, you may appreciate it.
highlight and low point
This feature flaunts a flashback format that is supposed to give its audience some insight into what is happening – presumably, anyway – but said flashbacks are too fragmented to supply much information. Furthermore, what little can be gleaned from them is more or less shunted aside by what is shown more directly, so nothing is gained. An amusing scene in the local watering hole serves little purpose in the story structure and stands out for that reason alone.
Rather preposterously set in a “high school” (none of the major student roles is played by anyone under 18, or particularly close), this picture presents an extremely convoluted resolution to an otherwise straightforward, standard horror movie. Sure, as you watch, you know you’re being set up for the SHOCKING ending – hell, the filmmakers tease you with various false reveals along the way – but even so, once all the layers are peeled away, you feel a little incredulous. Skeptical, even. I mean, it all seems like WAY too much trouble for a touch of retribution. The red herrings from the production team combine with similar trickery from the characters themselves to create a film that overall is a bit too intricate. It’s also a bit too long. And in spite of all that, to pull off the ruse, they still had to cheat.
The first thing I noticed about this movie, the sophomore effort from Bob Clark following Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things, is how vastly improved in every aspect of filmmaking it is in comparison to that initial offering. Script, lighting, camerawork, acting, pacing, makeup effects – everything is better. It’s as though Clark and head writer Alan Ormsby made a serious study of their inaugural production in order to make a more professional showing with their next film. Whatever the explanation – the budget was almost 400% larger, nearly $240,000! – it worked, because altogether this little horror picture is nearly excellent. The emotional impact of the small-town boy returning from a foreign war and the many repercussions of his impaired condition – to describe it as benignly as possible – are powerfully depicted, and the creeping sense that something is very wrong is deftly developed. Inspired by the W. W. Jacobs story “The Monkey’s Paw,” this saga sure seems to have been bastardized within S. King’s 1983 novel Pet Sematary in the tale of Timmy Baterman. (PERHAPS coincidentally, late in this flick, the action veers into a graveyard identified on its iron gates by a sign bearing the misspelling “Cemetary.”)
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.
More or less a Twilight Zone episode at feature length, this entertaining trifle never gets particularly scary, although a few of the death scenes certainly qualify as unpleasant enough. One might quibble that there’s an underlying plot hole for which it is particularly hard to suspend one’s disbelief – it of course involves the SHOCKING twist near the end, and I had been anticipating its revelation with mounting dismay for quite some time before it came to pass – but let’s face it, this is a horror movie, and demanding credibility could render the whole genre nonexistent. Outlandish characters are depicted with gusto and that old chestnut, the Small Town with a Secret, is given the right insider’s feel. The fact that the absurdist conclusion threatens to tip the scales to outright humor – if it doesn’t succeed, that is – doesn’t detract much from the overall effect. Fun, if not exactly crucial.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 