Body Puzzle

Watching the late period work of Argento acolytes can be frustrating because of the obvious potential of works that nevertheless feel half-baked. Lamberto Bava’s Body Puzzle, Saovi’s The Devils Daughter and even Argento’s Trauma are classic Italian horror trying to escape the constrictions of lame scripts and the overwhelming influence of Hollywood cinema (thankfully Saovi had a chance to redeem himself with the excellent Cemetery Man). Unlike the perpetually uneven early 90s work of his contemporaries, Bava begins Body Puzzle strongly and proceeds to blow it with the sheer stupidity of the script.

Body Puzzle is an aesthetically unconventional giallo. It most closely resembles Argento’s Tenebrae, especially with regard to the lighting and cinematography. While I’ve also heard it compared to De Palma’s Body Double, I don’t see many connections other than the name. It seems particularly dubious when one considers the influence Argento had on De Palma, and that Bava worked directly with Argento on Tenebrae. Regardless of the inspiration, that film looks much more beautiful than one would expect from a 90s giallo.

The set-up of the film is quite good and might have served as an interesting connection between Cronenberg’s body horror and the giallo genre. The killer is revealed to murder organ reciprocates, ostensibly to reverse Frankenstein his friend who died in a motorcycle accident. Unfortunately this theme is never thoroughly explored, and while I hesitate to call it gimmicky, it requires a deeper exploration than the film is willing to provide.

Despite the unbelievable plot twists thrown their way, the actors do their best to respond believably, in a highbrow 80s giallo kind of way. There is occasional Hollywood inspired overacting on the part of the cops in the film, and a saxophone accompanied sex scene is awkward in all aspects, but for an Italian genre picture, it mostly understated.

Where Body Puzzle loses the plot is the sheer absurdity of the coincidences and the stupidity of the police, which is required to accept the final reveal. While 99% of the Giallo in existence are guilty of this, with the straightforward tone of the film, and it’s potential as an interesting genre-hybrid I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

I would love to own this...

Voodoo Black Exorcist

Voodoo Black Exorcist is really fucking bad. From the reverb drenched inner monologues to the constant and pointless panning on the (doughy) actors faces, the film is permeated by aura of suck disguised as 70s grindhouse stylings. What I think is most frustrating about the film is that, despite the unnerving awkwardness of the filming/editing style, the film still feels like a poverty row horror flick. In fact, it inexplicably brought to mind 1941's King of the Zombies. The unnecessarily abrupt ending in particular reminded me of older B-movies.

Typically I would start a review with some sort of plot summary, in this case it almost feels irrelevant, as the small amount I could ascertain from the muffled dialogue and the chainsaw editing is derivative of lowest common denominator horror. The basic plot is cribbed from The Mummy and relocated on a cruise-ship. As a side note, has there ever been a decent horror film that has taken place on a boat? (The Ghost Galleon definitely doesn't fucking count).

So a Voodoo mummy (because those totally exist) is taken aboard this ship in a coffin that splits the difference between a traditional Subsaharan mask and an Egyptian sarcophagus. He falls in love with a reincarnation of his long lost blah blah blah, and eventually gets down to finding excuses to kill people. From there pedestrian direction takes us through another 40 minutes of so of drawn out cliches until King Tut with a skin infection is trapped in a cave and is immolated (along with his romantic interest) by a rookie cop with a flamethrower. Mercifully we are almost immediately greeted with "The End", although, expectedly the cut is awkward (almost as poorly executed as the "End" of Kung Fu Zombie).

This is the second film I've seen (and reviewed) by director Manuel Cano. His previous film, The Swamp of the Ravens was quite a bit of fun, had a great off-kilter atmosphere, and set precedents for later films like Reanimator. Voodoo Black Exorcist… well, its really fucking bad.

Double Feature: Amazonia: The Catherine Miles Story and SS Experiment: Love Camp

Not so much the poster that would appear on an actual grindhouse,
 more of the kind of  dvd cover you would see in a bargain bin.

Who is Catherine Miles? The answer would appear to be that she is a marketing gimmick, intended in all likelihood to draw in filmgoers who bought into similar "based on a true story" hype that Amityville, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Snuff and Cannibal Holocaust benefitted from. In fact the film itself fits snuggly into the genre of Italian pre Blair Witch experiments in verisimilitude derived from Ruggero Deodato's famous 16 millimeter excursion into animal cruelty, human torture and social commentary.

The film is constructed as an exhibition of evidence in a hilariously fake trial, complete with pompous commentary throughout and the prosecution occasionally yelling "Objection your honor!" While this kind of narration is common in low budget film-making, it never ceases to be obnoxious. I find it hard to imagine anything more irritating in the context of film than watching a character enter a room and the tacky disembodied voice of that actor announcing "I walked into the room".  However, the biggest problem with providing this kind of commentary is that it is usually quite obvious that there are major errors that this post production bandaging was intended to fix. Without the narration the film is merely a procession of atrocities and banalities sandwiched between a bare bones revenge plot.

I have always found the idiosyncratic cliches of Italian Exploitation films to be hilarious. One trope in particular functions as an excuse to get actresses undressed: Any scene in which there are 'savages' of any kind (the cliche is that these are usually played by Italian men in wigs and grass skirts) the women are forced by some measure of extenuating circumstance to take their top off. My favorite example of this is in Bruno Matei's Hell of the Living Dead. Amazonia follows suit.

While there are a number problems with Amazonia, in certain contexts, its sentimental schlockiness has a certain charm, much less so with the bottom half of this double bill. In stark contrast to the saccharine pretensions of amazonia, SS Experiment Love Camp is extraordinarily nihilistic, at least as far as the subpar acting and special effects allow.

I have previously mentioned the history and evolution of the Italian nazisploitation sex-and-shock film; describing the devolutionary transition from Salo and The Night Porter to Red Nights of the Gestapo, SS Girls, and The Gestapo's Last Orgy. Recently I discovered a flaw in this description. A wider examination suggests that the Nazi exploitation genre originated in Germany. The use of this type of film as a device to dehumanize the Third Riech and separate (and thus absolve of guilt) the average citizen from those committing the atrocities was common in post war West Germany. Due to the apparent similarities of these films to the Italian pictures, in function and content, one can view a much more complex matrix of influence.

SS Experiment Love Camp is somewhat of an amalgam of the aforementioned three films. There is an attempt at the cruelty of The Gestapo's Last Orgy, the inept sexiness of Red Nights of the Gestapo, and a hint of the intended tackiness of SS Girls. There are even moments so insipid as to bring The Beast In Heat to mind (one thermostat control in particular evokes the slipshod, bubble-gum-and-duct-tape approach of that video nasty).

The film's plot involves various excuses to get (mostly) attractive italian women naked and shagging in front of Nazi mad scientists and their diabolical assistants. The driving force behind the picture (pardon the pun) is a Nazi Colonel who had his balls bitten off for unknown reasons and proceeds to order a number of failed transplant operations until he tricks the protagonist into undergoing this surgery, and since this is bad movie, it magically works this time. 

This triggers the perfunctory murder of the SS Colonel and declaration of revenge against the Third Reich, not without some unintentional humor. May I suggest that "It… happens sometimes" is probably the worst thing you could say to someone who just discovered he's been rendered surgically impotent? Similarly "What I did… was very bad" is probably not the best thing to tell the man who you had tricked hours earlier into being castrated, and who now is aiming a machine gun square at your…. chest.

One could criticize the medical basis behind the plot, but I think that would be a matter of being unable to see the sloppily painted thermostat throughout the trees.The film aspires to true nastiness, but ultimately falls as limp as the colonel's pecker.

"You will draw for the master race!"

VHS Box Art Of The Week - Veronica 2030

Sexploitation. The kind of ultra softcore that could only be appealing to my confused 12 year old self. And appealing it was. I remember a lot of covers like this as I pretended to pass through the section of my local videostore that, from my memory, seemed to specialize in real-life gore videos and these half-animated-naked-women-on-the-cover movies. I really wish I could remember the titles of some of the films that seduced/repelled me as a child. I find it impressive that a few of these films may have escaped the internet (and my memory... although admittedly this is not the case with Veronica 2030). Interestingly, the same New Hampshire rental joint I used to frequent as an adolescent is now selling all of its vhs. I thought I had bought out the stock 2 years ago, but inexplicably they had more when I returned from Oakland this summer. The woman at the counter didn't know what the prices were, and seem surprised that I could purchase them, which leads me to think that perhaps I am the only one buying these. 

Italy in the '70s: Style

I've failed to write a post for two months, so bear with me. Fashion, hair, and make-up were the reasons I was initially drawn to italian cinema. My fondest childhood moments were spent watching 1970s Indian films. When Ryan introduced me to non-new wave Italian cinema, I noticed elements of   1970s Bollywood style and current trends in fashion. So I continued watching. 

The '70s was a time for great hair. "Cold Eyes of Fear" is a giallo set in "swinging" London but the look is irrefutably italian. The mullet has popped up as a trend in the past 10 years. Though it has disappeared in most respects, all-womens' colleges the world-over continue to adopt this super-styled mullet. Here are his and her mullets:

Make up is a hard subject to discuss, because I don't know how to use it. But I know what looks good when I see it.

Here are some examples of excellence in face painting:

This screenshot is from Dario Argento's "Inferno." This incredibly attractive female engages the camera for a few minutes with her bewitching good looks and her cat. What adds to her allure is her smokey eye make-up and smoldering tinted lips, without which she would just be some girl in a classroom with a cat. This changes the scene from weird to seductively engaging.

This photo is a still from "Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion," which prominently features women with intricately painted faces and bourgeois outfits. The film is more of a mystery than a typical giallo. This photo features a look from the 1970s that will likely never be revived: the curled piece of sideburn that juts into the face. I've noticed many women in Italian and Indian cinema during this time with hair shorn to sideburns to achieve the look. 

In addition to being reviewed on Whip Zooms and Stinger Chords, "The Perfume of the Lady in Black" should be praised for its use of neutral clothing to turn Mimsy Farmer into an ethereal pixie-ish beauty. Note: All of her outfits are repeatedly re-designed for wear today by major labels and chain retail stores alike. 

Here her angelic and menacing beauty is juxtaposed with her lanky friend's "dated" 70s look. 

Note: Many people would not dress like the lady to the right today. The author is not included in this category of people.

This entry on fashion would be incomplete without the inclusion of Daria Nicolodi. She is not only a brilliant writer and actress, but she has a strong sense of style. Her style mixes menswear and silky fabrics in a way entirely inspirational. Designers today often try to seek this balance in masculine-feminine apparel, but few women can carry it off like Ms. Nicolodi. 

Please excuse the shallowness of this post.

--Sana

VHS Box of the week: Blood for Dracula

This week's VHS was acquired down the street from the apartment Sana and I recently moved into. I really enjoy the modifications locally owned (I'm not going to say, Ma and Pop, nobody says that outside of Rue Morgue columns) stores used to make to their cassettes.

We found this among a variety of films we had been meaning to watch for a while. I was holding out for the criterion laseridisc, but I think this is just as attractive, in its own way.

-Ryan

VHS Box of the week: Project Metalbeast

We've started a new feature on the blog to draw attention to some of the better VHS covers in our collection. This week's pick is Project Metalbeast, a film that unfortunately does not live up to its cybernetic werewolf premise (especially when practical effects were still used in low budget films). Luckily, you don't have to waste an hour and a half of your life watching bad actors pretending to be scientists debating the morality of werewolf cybernetics. Instead, feast your eyes on this hulking beast of box-art cheese.

- Ryan