Join me as I attempt to watch 2,500 movies on DVD and Blu-Ray, including films from all around the world and spanning as many genres as I can muster. Check back often...new movies are posted daily!
Don’t Deliver Us From Evil doesn’t waste any time, introducing us to the twisted thinking of lead character Anne (Jeanne Goupil) immediately after the opening credits.
It’s nighttime at a Catholic boarding school. A nun makes her way past the sleeping girls. Anne, however, is not actually asleep.
The nun walks behind a drawn curtain and undresses as Anne, now turned onto her side, watches. The curious young girl then hides under her covers and grabs her journal, where she makes the following entry:
“Friday, 29th June… a good day. Celine Crespin got the blame for me fooling around in class. She’ll be kept in on Sunday. I confessed two sins of impurity that I hadn’t committed. That really gave me a thrill. Lore and me get such pleasure when we do something wrong. To sin has become our chief aim. Let the other idiots live their lives doing good. We shall dedicate our lives to Satan, our lord and master.”
And with that, this 1971 French film by first-time writer / director Joel Seria is off and running.
Anne and her best friend Lore (Catherine Wagener) get into all sorts of mischief, which they manage to hide from their teachers as well as their parents. Doing everything from collecting eucharist hosts and stealing a chalice from the sacristy (both of which they intend to use in an upcoming Satanic ritual) to antagonizing the farmer’s son Emile (Gerard Darrieu), the girls delight in the chaos they create.
It isn’t long, however, before their friendship leads them to bigger crimes, including arson and even torture.
For Anne and Lore, flirting with older men and spying on their teachers is nothing more than good fun. Until the night they take things a bit too far, an incident that could bring their entire world crashing down around them.
Based in part on the Parker – Hulme murder case in 1950’s New Zealand (the very same killing that inspired Peter Jackson’s excellent 1994 film Heavenly Creatures), Don’t Deliver Us From Evil is, at times, a shocking movie, both in the sexually explicit behavior of its two leads (though they portray teen girls, both actresses were nearly 20 when the movie was made) and the lengths (and depths) they go to in proving themselves worthy of a life dedicated to Satan. Perhaps the movie’s most chilling scene comes when Anne and Lore sneak into the room of Leon (Michel Robin), a caretaker at Anne’s estate, and poison his pet canary (the camera lingers on the poor creature as it convulses and then dies).
Not even the near-miss of Lore being raped by Emile (after playfully showing off her body to him) is enough to slow them down. To get back at Emile, they visit his family’s farm one night and set fire to the haystacks in the field as well as all the hay in the barn.
There are moments scattered throughout Don’t Deliver Us From Evil in which director Seria takes aim at what he sees as the rigid morality of the Catholic faith, and the effect it can have on stirring up rebellion; at one point Anne and Lore, who have snuck into the convent, hide from two nuns running down the hall, giggling. The two sisters eventually make their way to a secluded room, where Anne and Lore, peering through the keyhole, see them kissing one another. This comes just after a scene in which the priest, during mass, delivers a stern sermon on lust, and how it is the most deadly of the seven sins (in a humorous scene, Anne has a fantasy of the priest delivering his homily naked, and being laughed at by the parishioners).
Don’t Deliver Us From Evil is not an easy movie to sit through. It was banned in its native France and given an “X” rating in Britain (it also never played theatrically in the United States). But if you can look past some of its more troubling aspects (the on-screen death of an animal is never pleasant), it is a well-made, well-acted film, relating a story of friendship that crosses into obsession, and of two girls who have discovered a unique and horrific way to stave off the boredom of their restrictive lives. Rating: 9 out of 10
Prior to today, I had seen three of director Serguio Martino’s Giallos: The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh from 1971; Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key from 1972; and 1973’s Torso. All rank among my favorites of this particular subgenre, weaving intriguing storylines into a narrative style that is as sexy as it is visually engaging.
Now, I can add The Case of The Scorpion’s Tail, also released in 1971, to this amazing list of movies.
When her wealthy husband dies in a mysterious airline explosion, London resident Lisa Baumer (Ida Galli) learns she was the sole beneficiary of his life insurance policy, worth one million dollars.
Soon after flying to Athens to collect the money (which she took entirely in cash), Ms. Baumer is brutally murdered in her hotel room, and the chief suspect in her slaying is insurance investigator Peter Lynch (George Hilton), who was tasked with looking into possible irregularities in her case.
As more people associated with the Baumers turn up dead, both police inspector Stavros (Luigi Pistilli) and John Stanley of Interpol (Alberto De Mendoza) become convinced that Lynch is, indeed, behind this sudden rash of murders. To prove his innocence, Lynch teams up with (and romances) French reporter Clea Dupont (Anita Strindberg), in the hopes she’ll uncover a clue that will clear him once and for all.
One cannot discuss Sergio Martino’s output in the subgenre without also mentioning Ernesto Gastaldi, who wrote (or co-wrote) all of the director’s Giallos. The story of The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail, which twists and turns in a number of directions, throwing one potential suspect after another our way, is a definite strength, and keeps us guessing the whole way through.
That said, it’s the visual style Martino brings to the table that pushes it over the top.
In what is, for me, the strongest sequence in The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail, the killer stalks Lara (Janine Raynaud), a pretty redhead who, earlier in the movie, tried to blackmail Lisa Baumer for the insurance money. Lara, it seems, was the late Mr. Baumer’s mistress, and claims he intended to divorce Lisa and marry her. Lara said she was in possession of a letter that would prove Lisa Baumer wished her husband dead (Lisa herself had a lover, played by Tomas Pico). Naturally, when Lisa then turns up dead, Lara and her accomplice Sharif (Luis Barboo) are considered prime suspects.
That all ends when Lara herself becomes the killer’s next target, a scene that utilizes POV, a clever use of slow motion, and a fair amount of blood. When Sharif barges in before the killer can flee the scene, it leads to a tense rooftop chase that also ends in bloodshed.
Shot on-location in London and Greece, The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail is, along with its other attributes, a gorgeous motion picture, and proof positive that Martino is every bit the master of the Giallo as fellow countryman Dario Argento (Bird With the Crystal Plumage, Deep Red). I still have a few of Martino’s Giallos to check out, and now I chomping at the bit to dive into them! Rating: 9.5 out of 10
Times Square has an energy to it that is all-consuming.
A lot of said energy can be attributed to the music. This 1980 movie was produced by Robert Stigwood, the man behind Saturday Night Fever and Grease, two films with soundtrack LPs that sold millions. Featuring songs by The Ramones, Lou Reed, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, and a slew of others (including a couple of original tunes written for the movie and performed by its young stars), Times Square is packed with tons of great music.
But the music is far from the film’s only charm. The two leads, a pair of teenage girls played to perfection by literal newcomers, are the glue that holds the whole thing together. We like them the moment we meet them, and like them more and more with each passing scene.
Pamela (Trini Alvarado), a shy, awkward 13-year-old, is the daughter of New York commissioner David Pearl (Peter Coffield), who has made it his mission to clean up Times Square by driving away the smut peddlers and closing the XXX theaters. Clueless as to why Pamela is so troubled, her father sends her to a Neurological hospital, where they will run tests to determine whether or not there is something wrong with her mind.
Pamela’s roommate at the facility is Nicky Marotta (Robin Johnson), a punk-rock street urchin with a criminal record, who is set to undergo the very same tests. A free spirit, Nicky has no intention of sticking around, and talks Pamela into running away with her. Thus begins an amazing adventure, with Nicky and Pamela doing whatever it takes to survive on the streets and, along the way, becoming the best of friends.
When radio DJ Johnny LaGuardia (Tim Curry) catches wind of their story, he single-handedly transforms Nicky and Pamela into local celebrities by reporting on their exploits. But with Pamela’s dad and the cops searching frantically for them, it’s anyone’s guess how long this taste of freedom the two are enjoying will last.
Trini Alvarado is wonderful as the introverted Pamela, whose transformation from a lonely, troubled girl into an assertive, outgoing young woman is the heart of this movie. With Nicky’s help, Pamela even lands a job as a waitress at a seedy nightclub, somehow convincing the owner that she’s 18 years old.
Yet the true marvel that is Times Square is the performance of Robin Johnson as Nicky (unlike Alvarado, who had a handful of credits to her name prior to this film, Johnson was making her screen debut). The moment she struts on-screen during the opening credits, walking the streets of New York with her boombox, Johnson’s Nicky oozes confidence. She is angry, and often lashes out at authority. Naturally, this gets her into plenty of trouble, and what makes Times Square such an endearing movie is that, as much as Nicky helps Pamela come out of her shell, Pamela also has a positive effect on Nicky, convincing her to finally pursue her dream of becoming a punk rock star. Watching these two interact throughout the film was magic, and I did not want their story to end.
The relationship between Nicky and Pamela is front and center throughout Times Square, but the supporting characters aren’t left out to dry. Tim Curry is smooth and slightly enigmatic as the DJ who dedicates airtime to the exploits of Nicky and Pamela, going so far as to broadcast, on live radio, a song performed by the two (a hard-hitting number titled “Your Daughter is One”). As played by Curry, we’re never quite sure about Johnny. Is he a renegade inspired by the two girls, or an opportunist using them to make a name for himself? Even Pamela’s father isn’t a one-note character; though ignorant and career-oriented in the early scenes, he becomes truly concerned for his daughter’s safety, and goes so far as to promise to resign if she would just come home.
Times Square is not a perfect film. It’s occasionally choppy, and the flow is a little disjointed (Allan Moyle said that some key scenes, including hints of a lesbian relationship between the two leads, were cut by Stigwood, who, according to the director, seemed more interested in overloading the film’s music soundtrack than in making a cohesive movie). There are also twists and turns in the story that are unrealistic, from Pamela working at a topless night club (she herself refused to take her clothes off, winning the respect of the club’s manager) to the girls performing a song on live radio (“Your Daughter is One” is loaded with profanity as well as ethnic and homophobic slurs. Johnny would have been fired by his station manager on the spot for letting it go out).
To be honest, though, its lack of realism didn’t bother me at all. The story of Nicky and Pamela is the stuff of legend, the kind of tale told over and over, for generations, until the line between fact and fiction is blurred or even erased. DJ Johnny LaGuardia turned the girls into New York folk heroes. It’s no wonder the movie itself sought to do the same. Rating: 9 out of 10
Roger Corman directed a number of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations in the 1960s, bringing a gothic sensibility to such films as The House of Usher, The Pit and The Pendulum, and The Masque of the Red Death. For 1970’s The Dunwich Horror, which was adapted from a 1928 short story by H.P. Lovecraft, Corman served as Executive Producer, turning the directorial reins over to his longtime art director, Daniel Haller.
Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts is home to an incredibly rare book: the Necronomicon, also known as the Book of the Dead. Anxious to get a look at it, Wilbur Whateley (Dean Stockwell), a visitor from the town of Dunwich, convinces Nancy Wagner (Sandra Dee), a student at Miskatonic and a library volunteer, to let him read the Necronomicon for a few minutes. His time is cut short, however, by Dr. Henry Armitage (Ed Begley), who insists the book be returned to its display case.
Familiar with the history of the Whateley family, including the public execution of Wilbur’s great grandfather by the townsfolk of Dunwich, Dr. Armitage invites Wilbur to join him, Nancy, and Elizabeth Hamilton (Donna Baccala), also a student and Nancy’s best friend, for dinner.
Nancy quickly develops a crush on Wilbur, and agrees to drive him home when he misses the last bus to Dunwich. As thanks for her generosity, Wilbur invites Nancy into the house for some tea. But Wilbur has his reasons for wanting to keep Nancy around, and despite the protests of his grandfather (Sam Jaffe), Wilbur hopes to perform a ritual that no Whateley has successfully completed, a ceremony that will unleash an ancient evil capable of destroying not only Dunwich, but the entire world.
Stockwell delivers a mannered performance as the enigmatic Wilbur Whateley, a guy who, from the get-go, is clearly up to something. Early on, we have no idea what that “something” is, though it’s obvious Nancy is a key component of his plans (he sabotages her car to ensure it won’t start, and plies her time and again with tea that has been drugged). Sandra Dee is also quite good as the pretty student who falls under Wilbur’s spell, while Begley, Jaffe, Baccala, Lloyd Bochner (as Dr. Cory, Dunwich’s resident physician who teams up with Armitage to save Nancy), and a young Talia Shire (as Dr. Cory’s nurse) are solid in support.
Yet it’s the style that director Daniel Haller brings to the film that really blew me away, from the early close-ups of Wilbur (of his eyes, or of him twisting a ring on one of his fingers) to the strangely erotic imagery of Nancy’s dream sequences, which grow increasingly more bizarre as the film progresses. Haller, who handled the art direction for a handful of Corman’s Poe films (including The Pit and the Pendulum and The Raven), proves throughout The Dunwich Horror that he has a keen eye for visuals, bringing an impressive panache to Lovecraft’s tale of an ancient evil unleashed.
In unison with its strong cast and solid direction, The Dunwich Horror benefits from the “Corman Touch”. It is ever present and unmistakable, ensuring that this cinematic take on H.P. Lovecraft’s classic story would be just as much fun as his Poe films. Stylish and mysterious, The Dunwich Horror is a very entertaining motion picture. Rating: 9 out of 10
Born Rudolfo Guzman Huerto, the famous luchador known to his fans as El Santo (“The Saint”), was more than a superstar in the sport of wrestling. In his native Mexico, he was a cultural icon. Featured as the hero in a number of comic books, Santo’s fame spread far beyond the wrestling ring, and even today, almost 40 years after his death, he remains as well-known as ever.
Starting in 1952 and lasting all the way into the later ‘70s, Santo appeared in 54 films, always sporting the silver mask that was his trademark. Before today, I had never seen a single one of these movies. I was familiar with the Santo series, but never caught up with it, and was anxious to finally check it out. And the film I chose as my initiation into this most unusual of subgenres was 1970’s Santo vs. The Riders of Terror.
Set in the old west, Santo vs. The Riders of Terror opens with a group of lepers escaping from a remote hospital. Making their way to a small town, they take the locals by surprise, and send a few of them running and screaming from their homes.
The next morning, the angry townsfolk gather and demand that the Sheriff (Armando Silvestre) round up the lepers and drag them back to the hospital. Things go from bad to worse when, later that night, the Sheriff’s fiancé, Carmen (Mary Montiel), is surprised in her house by a supposed leper, who then proceeds to shoot Carmen’s dad in the back!
What nobody knows is that this murder was carried out not by the lepers, but by the thief Camerino (Julio Almada), who wants to scare the townsfolk while, at the same time, striking a deal with the lepers, promising them food and a cut of the profits if they help he and his men rob a few unsuspecting businesses.
Not to worry, though, because the sheriff has convinced the famous luchador Santo (playing himself) to ride into town and save the day. Can Santo and the sheriff track down the lepers and return them safely to the hospital, or will the enraged locals end up taking matters into their own hands?
Though more a western than a horror film, Santo vs. The Riders of Terror does have a few tense moments, and the make-up for the lepers is appropriately gross (in one scene, a leper puts a stolen ring on his finger, and watching him try to get it over his decaying skin had me cringing). It didn’t matter, though, because it is a good western! I was into the story and anxious to see how it played out, even before Santo shows up (surprisingly, he isn’t even mentioned until the 20-minute mark in what is a 77-minute film).
In Santo’s first appearance in the film, he’s climbing into an outdoor wrestling ring to fight a local champ for money (all to raise cash for a trio of nuns, who devote their life to helping the poor). It seemed a little kooky to me to have a wrestling match in the middle of a western film, but then this is no ordinary western, and for fans of the legendary luchador, not having one probably would have been unthinkable!
From there out, Santo is front and center, devising plans to catch both the lepers and the criminals. At one point he even gets into a fight with Camerino, and as it is with most wrestling matches, the bad guy gets the upper hand once or twice before Santo rises to the occasion and flattens him.
I loved the style of this film, from the obviously-fake-yet-still-effective set pieces to the quick, brightly-colored swipes that the filmmakers used to transition from one scene to the next. I even had a blast with the often-terrible dialogue. Early on, when the townsfolk are clamoring that something needs to be done, one of them suggests they apprehend the lepers themselves, and asks a guy next to him if he’s ready to join the fight. “Sure”, the man replies, “I was born in a minute. I’ll die in less” (umm… I think I know what he’s trying to say, but… huh?!?). Now, to be fair, I couldn’t tell if this and other laughable lines were the fault of the writers (the script was co-written by Jesus Mercielago Velazquez and the movie’s director, Rene Cardona) or those who dubbed the movie into English, but if I’m guessing, I’d say it’s a little of both.
Never mind, though, because it didn’t detract from the fun I had watching Santo vs. The Riders of Terror. I feel as if a whole new world has opened up for me, and I can’t wait to explore it further! Discoveries like Santo vs. The Riders of Terror are what make being a cinephile so rewarding. Rating: 8.5 out of 10
As with Vincent Price’s character in The Witchfinder General, Christopher Lee portrays an historical figure in Jess Franco’s 1970 film The Bloody Judge. Judge George Jeffreys, who was fiercely loyal to James II, was named Lord Chancellor of England in 1685, and used his power against the king’s enemies. He became known as “The Hanging Judge”, and his punishments were harsh.
During the Monmouth Rebellion, when William of Orange attempted to seize control of the English throne, it is rumored that Jeffreys put several hundred men on trial, all of whom were eventually executed. When James II fled the country in 1688, paving the way for the reign of William III, Jeffreys remained behind and was captured. He died of kidney failure while a prisoner in the Tower of London.
Though not quite the movie that The Witchfinder General is, The Bloody Judge nonetheless does a good job bringing this story to the screen, with Christopher Lee delivering a deliciously sinister performance as the judge whose loyalties often interfere with his dispensing of justice.
As the movie opens, troops loyal to Judge Jeffries (not sure why the filmmakers changed the spelling of his name) have arrested Alicia Gray (Margaret Lee) and charged her with witchcraft. Her sister Mary (Maria Rohm), who caught the eye of Judge Jeffries during the trial, pleads for Alicia’s life. When she refuses to sleep with Jeffries in return for Alicia’s freedom, Alicia is executed.
With William of Orange threatening to invade England, Judge Jeffries steps up his efforts to root out the rebels. He meets with Lord Wessex (Leo Genn), who he suspects of conspiring with the rebels, and warns Wessex to keep an eye on his son Henry (Hans Haas Jr.), who has taken Mary Gray, the sister of a convicted witch, as his lover.
Henry is, indeed, sympathetic to the rebel cause, and intends to make Mary his wife then flee England that very night.
To keep young Henry in line, Judge Jeffries, with the help of Wessex’s traitorous servant Satchel (Milo Quesada), takes Mary into custody, all as news arrives that William of Orange’s troops are about to land on English soil.
With the tide of public opinion turning against King James, Jeffries knows he has to step up his efforts, and begins arresting everyone even remotely connected to the rebellion. But how long can the man known as the Bloody Judge hold back an uprising that is growing stronger with each passing day?
Aside from the opening scene with Alicia Gray, The Bloody Judge deals more with history than it does witchcraft. Lee bellows and huffs his way through the courtroom scenes, his anger and insults showing, quite clearly, he is anything but an impartial judge. During Alicia’s trial, Jeffries chastises the prosecutor for not “properly examining” the body of the accused. He calls a recess, at which point Alicia is tied to a rack and tortured.
Jess Franco, whose gargantuan body of work contains more misfires than it does triumphs, does a fine job recreating the time period throughout The Bloody Judge. As with most of the director’s output in the ‘70s and ‘80s, the film has its share of exploitative moments; in the uncut version, there’s lots of nudity, and a bizarre scene in which Mary Gray “cleans” the naked body of a fellow prisoner by licking the blood off of her. But along with the sleaze, we’re also treated to some well-staged battle scenes between the rebels and the King’s troops, and the story of Henry’s and Mary’s attempts to avoid capture has its moments as well.
Franco, who this same year released Count Dracula, which he claimed was the most accurate version of Bram Stoker’s novel ever committed to film (it was for a while, then drifted off the rails towards the end), continued his push for authenticity with The Bloody Judge, which is as much a history of a moment in time as it is a horror movie. And it works on both counts. Franco himself remembered The Bloody Judge fondly, saying in a 2003 interview that it is a movie he “still enjoys”. It’s easy to see why. Rating: 8 out of 10
The debate rages on as to whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie. The detractors contend it is an action film that just happened to be set during the holiday. I can see that argument (and to be fair, Die Hardwas released to theaters in the summer of 1988), but I watch it every December all the same.
That said, I don’t think there’s much doubt about 1997’s Turbulence being a Christmas movie. Featuring a wild cross-country flight and the chaos that arises due to some very extreme circumstances, the “Christmas Stamp” is all over this film. From the opening scene (set in a small, snowy town that could have been lifted from a Hallmark movie) to the plane itself, which has Christmas lights draped throughout the cabin, the holiday remains prevalent throughout. Hell, the in-flight movie is It’s a Wonderful Life!
But like Die Hard, it isn’t tidings of comfort and joy that you’ll remember when Turbulence is over. For better or for worse (and there are aspects of both), it’s the insanity of it all that you won’t soon forget.
Convicted serial killer Ryan Weaver (Ray Liotta), who escaped from San Quentin two years earlier, is recaptured in New York by L.A. detective Aldo Hines (Hector Elizondo). It was Hines who initially arrested Weaver, and has made it his life’s mission to ensure the fugitive is transported back to California and returned to death row.
Weaver, who insists that Hines planted evidence to frame him, is placed in the custody of U.S. Marshals, and, along with fellow prisoner, bank robber Stubbs (Brendan Gleeson), boards a 747 on Christmas eve for the long flight west.
Once on-board, Weaver takes a special interest in flight attendant Teri Halloran (Lauren Holly), who is still reeling from a failed romance. With a handful of other passengers along for the ride, the plane takes off, just after both the pilot (J. Kenneth Campbell) and his co-pilot (James MacDonald) are informed they may have to alter their course mid-flight, to avoid a heavy storm that is ravaging the Midwest.
During a trip to the restroom, Stubbs gets the upper hand on one of the Marshals. A gunfight ensues, and when the smoke clears, all of the Marshals are dead.
They won’t be the last to die on this Christmas Eve, and the odds of the plane making it safely to California grow longer by the second.
Ray Liotta was always a good villain, and his Ryan Weaver is no exception. Likable at first (we even wonder if his accusations against Hines are valid), he begins to show his character’s creepier side the moment he sets eyes on Teri Halloran. Once the story gets rolling, Liotta is off the chain, going over-the-top more than once, but always in an entertaining way.
For her turn as the plucky flight attendant Teri, Lauren Holly was nominated for both a Golden Raspberry Award and a Stinkers Bad Movie Award for Worst Actress. And I call bullshit! Sure, Holly is no Pam Grier (Coffy, Jackie Brown), Sigourney Weaver (Alien, Aliens), or Linda Hamilton (The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day), but she’s far from terrible as the flight attendant dealing with a potential killer and a plane that could break apart once it enters the eye of a storm. Leave Ms. Holly alone, she did a fine job!
Like many action films (especially in the ‘90s), Turbulence gets more outlandish with each passing scene. There are moments that may even have you laughing out loud (one involving a truck on the roof of a parking garage made me chuckle, yet not as much as how the filmmakers “fixed” that particular… situation). But the term “stupid fun” seems to have been coined for movies like Turbulence, and aiming at that admittedly very low target, it comes damn close to the bullseye. Rating: 7 out of 10
