CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE - BLU-RAY REVIEW

“What I’d like to know is, what this is all about, this contagious cannibalism or whatever you call it?!” asks one of the many confused characters in “Anthony M. Dawson” / Antonio Margheriti’s CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE (1980), an entertaining—albeit harebrained!—hybridization of Vietnam-themed war pictures and Italian cannibal gut-crunchers. Notwithstanding the film’s heavily-marketed horror tropes and extravagant bits of über-violence, Margheriti’s film is, first-and-foremost, a briskly-paced action flick, one that doesn’t even attempt to inject any real pertinent ‘social commentary’ on the lingering aftereffects of the war. In what might possibly have been lost in the transition from script to screen, the film even brushes-off the epidemic of cannibalism as the fault of some virulent strain of rabies, in-part caused by a (quote) “biological mutation due to a psychic alteration” (!?!?), which is about as vague and unconvincing an explanation as you can get. Nevertheless, Margheriti understands his target audience and provides them (i.e., us!) with plenty of no-frills action and memorably over-the-top violenza. So, in that respect, at least, it succeeds admirably.

Noteworthy for its oft-censored splatter scenes—executed with panache and pizzazz by Italo gore guru Gianetto De Rossi—CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE first became available in the U.S. and Canada via Vestron Video’s bowdlerized 1984 Beta / VHS videocassettes as INVASION OF THE FLESH HUNTERS (“There are some things worse than death…”), which is just one of the film’s many alternate titles. Prior to Image Entertainment’s uncut, extras-laden 2002 DVD edition (as part of their pioneering Euroshock Collection), the best—and possibly only—way to appreciate the film during those days of analog antiquity was through Pack-In Video’s uncut Japanese VHS tape. But thanks to Kino Lorber Studio Classics’ substantial licensing deal with Studio Canal, CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE finally gets a truly superb HD upgrade, and comes with a whole gutful of worthy extras to boot.    

Capt. Norman Hopper (John Saxon) is a decorated ’Nam vet who—no thanks to being left severely shell-shocked from combat duty (a condition that would nowadays be diagnosed as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD)—is suffering from a number of all-too-real nightmares, all of which involve Charlie Bukowski (“John Morghen” / Giovanni Lombardo Radice) and Tommy Thompson (Tony King), a pair of soldiers from his former unit who, after being cruelly starved whilst kept in captivity as POWs of the ’Cong, were forced to resort to cannibalism for sustenance. Presently about to get his first leave out of the (quote) “booby hatch”, Bukowski attempts to reconnect with his former captain, but Hopper is reluctant to meet him, as he too is beginning to feel the same inexplicable cannibalistic urges his former comrades-at-arms had experienced during the war; a fact which becomes readily apparent during one of the film’s more uncomfortable scenes, when his pubescent next door neighbours’ daughter Mary (“Cindy Hamilton” / Cinzia De Carolis) comes to visit him. Of course, Bukowski’s compulsion for human flesh inevitably gets the better of him when he takes a bite out of a girl at a movie theatre. This inappropriate ‘snack-attack’ not only causes the expected panic, but leads into a lengthy stand-off with the fuzz when he holes-up at a local flea market. At the behest of cantankerous Captain McCoy (Wallace Wilkinson), who is full of memorably tacky one-liners (e.g., “He’s gonna be singin’ through his asshole when I get through with him!”), Hopper tries to negotiate with Charlie. As he too succumbs to the ‘virus’, however, he eventually finds himself ‘reunited’ more than ever with his former unit, who cause further havoc for the local populace before escaping into the city sewers for a final bloody showdown… 

As with most Italian horror movies of the period, Margheriti and screenwriter “Jimmy Gould” / Dardano Sacchetti pinch ideas from a wide variety of filmic sources, including David Cronenberg’s far-more-apocalyptic RABID (1977) and George A. Romero’s hugely-influential DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978). The grim fatalism of Richard Compton’s WELCOME HOME SOLDIER BOYS (1971) is also recalled, and, for the film’s typically-plagiaristic Italian marketing campaign, it was cheekily titled APOCALYPSE DOMANI (“Apocalypse Tomorrow”) in reference to Francis Ford Coppola’s APOCALYPSE NOW (1979). Heavily reliant on its cast to inject any real substance into its half-baked scenario, the film’s headlining name, the ever-dependable John Saxon adds a great deal to the proceedings as the tormented Vietnam veteran trying to come to grips with his affliction. At the same time, the seasoned ‘tough guy’ actor delivers all the necessary machismo required by the part as well. In what also amounts to one of his stronger roles, fan favourite “John Morghen” goes way off the deep-end herein, allowing viewers to savour his always-entertaining oddball charisma, whereas Tony King (who went on to appear in Margheriti’s more faithful APOCALYPSE NOW rip-off THE LAST HUNTER [1980] alongside David Warbeck) provides plenty of abrasive shouting and grinning as the psychotic, shotgun-blasting Tommy. Also along for the ride is a newly-contaminated nurse (May Heatherly), a female cast inclusion which nicely completes the film’s obvious homage to DAWN OF THE DEAD. 

Shot in Atlanta, Georgia during the winter of 1980, CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE tries its absolute darnedest to hide its Euro origins. Atypically for an Italian/Spanish co-production, much of it was shot using direct sound for all the film’s English-speaking actors, whereas a number of European bit players are either hiding behind anglicized pseudonyms or go completely uncredited. Far outweighing its apocalyptic ambitions, Margheriti nonetheless energizes things with a number of economic-but-enthusiastic action sequences, including the opening Vietnam-set skirmish and a rather intense, impressively-staged climax down in the sewers of Atlanta which also includes a bravura gory set-piece, which was extensively highlighted in much of the film’s promotional materials.

Here making its worldwide HD debut, CA comes to Blu-ray in a (quote) “brand new 4K restoration”, which is pin-sharp and quite stunning (barring some of the conspicuously mismatching stock footage used during the opening credits). While much of the film does have a somewhat nondescript ‘TV’-style look to it, Spanish DP Fernando Arribas nevertheless manages to convey some notable atmosphere, that is especially evident in the finale’s catacomb-like sewer system, which almost makes it seem like one of Margheriti’s earlier Gothic horror entries. The DTS-HD 2.0 master audio track on the whole also sounds excellent, but keen listeners will notice an uptick in audio fidelity during many of the film’s direct sound recordings, whereas Alessandro Blonksteiner’s wholly unique score, which blends plenty of enthusiastic saxophone and ’Seventies-style pseudo-funk into a heady mix, plays well in juxtaposition with the schizophrenic storyline. 

For Kino’s new Blu-ray, author and film historian Tim Lucas provides a brand-new audio commentary, which is full of his usual detail and insight into many of the film’s personnel, production, locations (including rural Manziana, Italy, which doubled for Vietnam [!!!]), and many of its very loose connections to its filmic sources, including a missed opportunity to make a closer, more coherent variation of Coppola’s legendary ’Nam film. He also discusses how script-scribe Sacchetti became involved in the film and his excitement to (quote) “conflagrate” genres, and in the case of said film, brought everything together in a (quote) “timely collision of impressive influences”, including the surprise ending, which resembles a certain Mario Bava classic. Of course, he also discusses Margheriti’s career at length and how well-liked he was by everyone involved.  It’s yet another excellent, well-researched commentary that not only comes highly-recommended, but is actually the highlight of Kino’s new Blu-ray. In Cannibal King (10m01s), the disc’s other newly-produced extra, actor Tony King discusses his career with an equal amount of nostalgia and delight at the opportunities that were presented to him from the very beginning via a small walk-on role in Jerry Schatzberg’s THE PANIC IN NEEDLE PARK (1971), and his eventual migration to Rome later in the decade.  

For those of you of who own Image’s long-out-of-print Image DVD, there’s no need to fret, as Kino have thoughtfully included all of that disc’s extra features as well. For the record, these include the retrospective documentary Cannibal Apocalypse Redux (54m11s), featuring interviews with Margheriti, Saxon and Radice; a brief tour of the film’s Atlanta locations (6m40s), the alternate opening title sequence (taken from Vestron’s old VHS tape); the lively theatrical trailer (sourced from Venezuelan VHS, which includes burnt-in Spanish subtitles as SOBREVIVIENTES DEL APOCALYPSIS / “Survivors of the Apocalypse”), and a very cool Japanese teaser trailer. The disc also includes trailers for some of Kino’s other available horror films as well as reversible artwork, which also features some of CA’s rather deceptive, zombie-like artwork. Order it from DiabolikDVD or for you Canadian readers, Suspect Video.

DANGEROUS CARGO - BLU-RAY REVIEW

A real obscurity even for the likes of a specialist label such as Mondo Macabro, Kostas Karagiannis’ sleazy little potboiler, DANGEROUS CARGO (1977)—for those who might have seen it prior to MM’s Blu-ray— is best-remembered for the creative casting of former Miss America (and at that time, aspiring actress) Deborah “Debbie” Shelton. Long before she became more widely-known for her role opposite Larry Hagman as J.R. Ewing’s girlfriend Mandy Winger on the long-running TV series DALLAS (1978 – 1991), Shelton appeared in a trio of largely-forgotten Greek films from the mid-’Seventies, of which the nautical-themed DANGEROUS CARGO is, fittingly enough, the high watermark. Hitting all the right notes, director Karagiannis maintains great economy for this fast-paced—and exceedingly skeevy!—sexploitation opus, but it’s Shelton’s daring, no-holds-barred performance that really sets it apart from other like-minded films. 

Milto (Nikos Verkalis) is the new skipper of a cargo ship about to set sail for the Far East, but when his bosun is found murdered during a routine stopover in the U.S., Milto is assigned a new officer (Kostas Karagiorgis) who is pulling double-duty for a shady—and apparently very powerful—businessman (played by the film’s U.S./Greek producer James Paris, who surreptitiously ‘directs’ many of the film’s unexpected twists and turns). Unbeknownst to the captain, the ship’s cargo is illegally transporting a vast amount of weapons and nitroglycerin (hilariously emblazoned with a hand-drawn skull-and-crossbones logo!) bound for some sort of terrorist organization plotting to snuff-out some middle eastern oil wells. Amidst all this subterfuge, the captain has foolhardily brought along his wife (Shelton)—who is the sole woman aboard the ship, natch—and as it turns out, she also ‘just happens’ to be the former girlfriend of the vessel’s first mate, Avgeri (Giorgos Hristodoulou), who is likewise complicit in all the crew’s peddling of black market goods and knows full well that (quote) “death is hanging over their heads!”

Tensions run high throughout the picture (“Nitroglycerin is no joke!”) with its pulpy, film-noir inspired storyline, and in spite of the exceedingly low-budget (the single firearm smuggled onto the ship’s deck is obviously only a kids’ toy!), it zips briskly along even as it takes frequent pause to deliver a number of lengthy sex scenes around every ten minutes or so. Outside of a few establishing shots and some brief flashback sequences, the entire films takes place within the claustrophobic confines of the cargo ship, close quarters that further aggravates the mounting hostility of everyone onboard, resulting in the expected in-fighting. Miss Shelton is not only highly attractive, but she acquits herself supremely well while holding her own against a whole tubful of sex-starved males eager to get their grimy hands on her. Karagiorgis oozes all the necessary sleaze and venom as the film’s two-faced primary villain, who forces Debbie to become his plaything because he likes (quote) “Cats that scratch!” But she proves to be far more cunning when she sneakily manipulates the situation to her advantage, proving she may very well be the ‘dangerous cargo’ of the film’s title.

Never theatrically released outside of Greece, DANGEROUS CARGO comes to Blu-ray in a fine-looking transfer taken directly from the original negative, which retains the film’s original 1.37:1 aspect ratio, and despite a preceding disclaimer about how the picture quality falls below MM’s usual standards, it all looks quite impressive given the film’s obvious obscurity; there is really nothing to complain about here at all. The Greek Dolby Digital 2.0 mono audio also sounds sufficient enough, boasting clearly-audible dialogue and with Giorgos Theodosiadis’ easy-listening, lounge score sounding just fine. Optional English subtitles are also provided, of course. Extras are limited to MM’s always-fun promotional reel (11m10s), but the Limited Edition ‘Red Case’ (sadly, now out-of-print) also includes ‘Debbie’s Greek Adventure’, a 12-page booklet with writing from Pete Tombs, who not only details the film’s rather confusing history, but discusses many of the personnel involved, including Miss Shelton’s brief, but entirely memorable, sojourn into Greek exploitation cinema. Order the standard retail edition directly from Mondo Macabro or from DiabolikDVD.

HIGH-BALLIN' - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Choice voiceover (by star Jerry Reed) from A.I.P.’s easygoing trailer: “Shift over to the fast-lane, brothers and sisters, and see this story of two throttle-jockeys who get into it up to their eyeballs, in HIGH-BALLIN’!”

Although produced hot on the heels of Hal Needham’s commercial super-smash SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT (1977) and co-starring Jerry Reed as yet another amiable hard-rollin’ truck driver, Peter Carter’s Canadian-lensed HIGH-BALLIN’ (1977) actually has more in common with Jonathan Kaplan’s WHITE LINE FEVER (1975), an earlier, pre-SMOKEY pedal-to-da-metal trucker flick starring Jan-Michael Vincent, which, like HIGH-BALLIN’, likewise played with the classical mythology of American westerns, albeit replacing horseflesh with big rigs. Co-produced by American International Pictures (AIP) at the tail-end of their rich cinematic history, this consistently-entertaining film has languished far too long in the video graveyard, so kudos to Kino Lorber’s Studio Classics imprint for giving it a brand-new HD overhaul.

In their bid to take control of every trucker in the area, King Caroll (Chris Wiggins) owner of the all-powerful trucking cartel King Caroll’s Cargo, orchestrates a series of rig hijackings to coerce and intimidate all the local drivers into joining his ever-expanding monopoly. One of the last remaining ‘independents’, “Iron” Duke Boykin (Jerry Reed), is at first propositioned far more cordially when he’s offered (quote) “good buck and security”, but when he and his long-time friend Rane (Peter Fonda), a drifter and former trucker himself, refuse to join, they become the targets of an attempted hijack during a routine transport job, which not only results in some impressive vehicular mayhem, but enrages King Caroll and his silent, even-more-unscrupulous partner Harvey (David Ferry) no end.

Much like George Stevens’ iconic western SHANE (1953), Peter Carter’s film also incorporates many of that film’s plot structure and themes while still maintaining plenty of gear-jammin’ trucker action and CB radio jargon. Essentially reprising Alan Ladd’s role as Shane (here renamed the soundalike “Rane”), Peter Fonda acquits himself well as the enigmatic drifter (it’s also alluded that he was a stuntman) who is first introduced riding into town on a motorcycle. Just like in any western, he promptly visits Duke at the local truck-stop greasy spoon (i.e., saloon) wherein he gets hassled by local shitkickers about his leather biker boots (“I’ve never seen anybody but fags wear boots like that!”). Rane quickly proves his mettle against the rowdies with a handy pair of tire-irons, however. Stubbornly holding-out as long as he can as an independent despite his colleagues being picked-off by King Caroll’s men like (quote) “flies”, Reed just about steals the show right out from under Fonda’s fancy boot-wearing feet in his reinterpretation of Van Heflin’s role as the put-upon rancher from the aforementioned Stevens film; in yet another similarity, even Duke’s son (Christopher Langevin), who is aptly nicknamed “Tanker” here, also has plenty of admiration for Rane (“I bet you go everywhere! I bet you’ve seen the whole world!”) just like little Joey (Brandon DeWilde) had been in complete awe of Alan Ladd’s iconic Shane character. In an early role for Canadian actor David Ferry, he oozes all the appropriate slime from every pore as King Caroll’s ‘muscle’ and hired gun, and, fittingly enough, just like Jack Palance’s merciless gunfighter in SHANE, is also dressed in black, which properly – if heavy-handedly – accentuates the film’s darker side. Also along for the ride is ‘Pickup’ (Helen Shaver), an oddly-sketched wannabe trucker / groupie named after her decked-out GMC pickup camper, which even comes complete with a modified truck exhaust system. On more than one occasion, she comes to the rescue of either Rane and/or Duke, and, befitting the alternate implications of her CB handle, Pickup is also referred to as the (quote) “mobile beaver”. 

Although ostensibly taking place in the United States (at one point Duke is seen wearing a jacket emblazoned with a U.S. Mail emblem, and at another he off-handedly mentions transporting a shipment to Green Bay, Minnesota), the film’s Canadian origins are highly apparent here: including numerous lingering shots of Ontario license plates and views of Toronto’s most-famous landmark, the CN Tower, from the now-long-gone and since-heavily-redeveloped TO waterfront; further establishing the film’s Cancon (“Canadian content”), Canuck actors Harvey Atkin and Les Carlson also appear, as does a pre-fame Michael Ironside in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him bit part. Despite being nicely shot by prolific French-Canadian DP René Verzier, who had also honed his camera chops on such Canadian classics as David Cronenberg’s RABID (1977) and Peter Carter’s extraordinary RITUALS (1977), to name just a few, HIGH-BALLIN’ isn’t the prettiest film to look at, but Verzier’s cinematography really captures our bitterly cold and wet Ontario winters perfectly with its barren trees and slushy, snow-covered roads; you can just about feel the chill deep in your bones! 

Difficult to see for many years outside of its 1983 Vestron Video Beta / VHS videocassette release, HIGH-BALLIN’ easily rates a “big 10-4” on Kino’s new Blu-ray, which was taken from a (quote) “brand new 2K master” and far eclipses any version seen before it. Everything is far sharper and much better-balanced, with excellent detail throughout, even during many of the film’s darker scenes, which had been especially problematic on Vestron’s murky old VHS tape. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 also sounds clean and well-captured, especially during all of the film’s obligatory CB chatter, which includes all sorts of colourful handles (e.g., “Bruiser Cruiser” and “Spud Rancher”). Extras are limited to the film’s aforementioned theatrical trailer (2m56s), some radio spots (1m30s) plus trailers for some of Kino’s other titles, which feature either Peter Fonda, Jerry Reed, Helen Shaver or more 18-wheelers. Dare I say… “Keep on truckin’!”

While it may lack the driving dynamism of WHITE LINE FEVER or SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT, it’s all handled convincingly enough and never fails to entertain, plus it also features one of Jerry Reed’s funkiest, foot-stomping C&W theme songs. Recommended! Order it from DiabolikDVD.