THE GHOST BREAKERS - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Following their successful pairing in the previous year’s THE CAT AND THE CANARY (Eliott Nugent, 1939), stars Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard returned in George Marshall’s THE GHOST BREAKERS (1940), an undemanding yet quintessential horror-comedy. Brimming with perfectly-timed, zippy one-liners, Hope is at his comic best in this good-natured romp, which also doesn’t skimp on genuine scares and eerie atmosphere. 

 

After incensing local underworld boss Frenchy Duvall (Paul Fix) over the radio, popular gossipmonger Larry “Radio” Lawrence (Bob Hope) is sent for, so Frenchy can (quote) “give it to him straight.” In the ensuing mix-up, Larry mistakenly believes he may have shot one of Frenchy’s men in self-defense and ends up hiding inside a steamer trunk belonging to Mary Carter (Paulette Goddard), who is bound for Cuba. Having inherited Black Island and Castillo Maldito, its supposedly haunted castle (“Death waits for you on Black Island!”), it seems Mary’s inheritance also interests several other individuals, including the mysterious Medero brothers (Anthony Quinn) and Mr. Parada (Paul Lukas), whose (quote) “peculiar reputation” also comes into question. Upon her arrival, Mary also meets up with old friend Geoff Montgomery (Richard Carlson), who also warns her of this cursed island. Thus, in return for helping him out, Lawrence and his trusted valet (Willie Best) try and prevent some potential—and very real—threats pointed her way. 

 

In Lee Gambin’s informative audio commentary, he addresses the inherent issues with horror comedies and praises this film’s (quote) “finely acute balance” between the two genres, which is indeed one of the film’s major strengths. Despite all of Hope’s witty remarks and self-deprecating humour (“If there’s going to be any hysterics around here, I’ll have ’em!”), his quick-talking personality also reveals a subtle optimism and self-confidence, which plays well next to Goddard’s equally-strong character, Mary Carter. Holding her own among several deceptively suave swindlers vying to get at her potential inheritance, she proves to be as every bit resourceful as her male counterparts. At one point, against Geoff’s best advice, she makes her way to Black Island by herself, swimming to shore in the dead of night after her boatman refuses to dock his boat there.

 

Talented African-American character actor Willie Best is also on hand. Although his appearance herein is relegated to a stereotypical role as Lawrence’s dim-witted servant, he commits himself sincerely to the part, ultimately coming across as the shrewdest of the whole bunch. Despite some of the colourful (no pun intended!) and cringe-worthy digs aimed at him (e.g., “You’re like a blackout in a blackout!”), Best’s character emerges with a (as pointed out in Mr. Gambin’s audio commentary) “quiet dignity” thanks to some quietly subversive writing, which helps transcend this potentially benign and problematic role into one of the film’s most memorably noteworthy.

 

While THE GHOST BREAKERS is first-and-foremost a comedy, it also displays an astute usage of horror tropes with its atmospheric island setting (beautifully rendered via Farciot Edouart’s matte paintings) and in the impressive art direction of the castle set itself. This delightfully decadent haunted house comes complete with creaking doors, cob-webbed coffins, apparitions, and even mother-and-son zombies (Virginia Brissac and Noble Johnson, respectively) that function as the castle’s creepy caretakers; all of which modulate in harmony with the film’s lighthearted comedy elements.

 

Readily available on home video since the early ’Nineties on both VHS videocassette and Laserdisc, THE GHOST BREAKERS made its digital bow in 2002 when it debuted on DVD as part of Bob Hope: The Tribute Collection. While that edition was perfectly adequate for the time, Kino Lorber Studio Classics’ new Blu-ray is a major upgrade indeed. Sourced from a (quote) “brand new 2K master”, Kino’s transfer is a marked improvement over its SD counterparts, with better clarity and detail across the board. Black levels still tend to vary a little here and there, but it’s certainly nothing to complain about. Fans of the film should be more than happy with the work Kino have done here. Given the film’s age, the DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 is also perfectly fine, not exhibiting any real issues, such as hiss and/or crackles and whatnot.

 

The most significant extra here is the aforementioned audio commentary by Lee Gambin, who has plenty to say about the film, its performers, and numerous crew involved in the production. Some of the many topics discussed include George Marshall’s 1953 remake SCARED STIFF (co-starring Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis), the (quote) “trick photography” of Farciot Edouart, and how this film served as the inspiration for Ivan Reitman’s GHOSTBUSTERS (1983). Despite it being a zany comedy, Gambin is quick to point out that THE GHOST BREAKERS (quote) “never loses its sense of urgency” and “lays down a lot of ground for things to come” within the horror genre. Of course, Mr. Gambin seizes the opportunity to also talk about many of its connections to other films and genres, allowing him to go off on numerous interesting tangents. Like the film itself, it’s a breezy, entertaining, and informative listen. Other extras include an episode of Trailers From Hell with writer Larry Karaszewski championing the film, the original theatrical trailer (“Ghost Breakers Incorporated. You make ’em! We shake ’em!”), and several trailers from the Kino Lorber Studio Classics library, which are, one way or another, associated with the present title. 

 

Highlighted by the spot-on comic-timing of Bob Hope, THE GHOST BREAKERS amounts to one his funniest films and is a consistently entertaining crossover of obvious appeal to both fans of American film classics and straight-ahead horror movies. Needless to say, Kino’s new Blu-ray is an absolute must! Order it from Kino or Amazon.

SHINING SEX - BLU-RAY REVIEW

A hypnotic, often bizarro melding of an experimental softcore film with science-fiction trappings, Jess Franco’s SHINING SEX (1975) remains one of the directors’ more unapologetically voyeuristic efforts. Revisiting the basic storyline of his earlier—much-more polished—THE DIABOLICAL DR. Z (1965), SHINING SEX, however, possesses a similarly dreamy air of sensuality to SUCCUBUS (1968) or FEMALE VAMPIRE (1973), two of the director’s more celebrated and widely-seen works. Barely released and notoriously difficult to see in any form approximating Franco’s intended vision, SHINING SEX has, thanks to Severin Films, been given its first uncut/uncensored home video release. 

 

Made in conjunction with Franco’s far-more-playful MIDNIGHT PARTY (1975), which also stars Lina Romay and shares much of this film’s personnel, Romay is herein cast as Cynthia, yet another bubbly stripper. It will come as no surprise for anyone well-versed in Franco’s oeuvre that SHINING SEX begins with another extended nightclub act, which gains the attention of Alpha (Evelyne Scott) and her servant Andros (“Raymond Hardy” / Ramon Ardid). Cynthia accompanies them back to their spacious apartment, but her enthusiasm soon escalates to horror when, during orgasm, she experiences a spasm of obvious pain, all of which is telepathically sensed by Dr. Seward (Jess Franco), a wheelchair-bound paranormal scientist. Alpha then mysteriously rubs a shining, shimmering substance onto Cynthia’s body, which somehow puts her under Alpha’s control. Using her as an instrument of death, Cynthia is ordered to destroy anyone who may potentially destroy Alpha’s (quote) “wisdom”, whereas Dr. Seward is convinced that (quote) “something frightening” or supernatural may be inhabiting our world… 

 

Although Alpha and Andros make numerous references to (quote) “another dimension,” the sparsely-populated resort town locations of La Grande Motte in southern France also appear decidedly otherworldly. Taking advantage of the resort’s unique, white-washed, pyramidal architecture and seemingly never-ending sunlight, Franco’s meager production is enhanced greatly by this location, which further strengthens the somewhat oblique sci-fi angle. SHINING SEX is, on its surface, a very bright and sunny film, but it camouflages a far darker scenario of despair and death—pure, unmistakable Franco themes. Like many of his films from this period, the primary motivator is sex, and Franco offers several, tenuously connected couplings as Gerard Brisseau’s camera boldly scrutinizes Romay’s body, zooming into her ‘shining sex’ with little left to the imagination. Also crucial to the overall ambiance, Daniel White’s jazzy score goes hand-in-hand with the film’s freeform, episodic scenario. In contrast, several instances of strange, atonal sound effects also enhance the film’s aural soundscape. As Cynthia becomes entangled in a never-ending spiral of desire and death, these eerily echoic sounds are weirdly reminiscent of someone trapped in a room desperately struggling to get out, a perfect metaphor for Cynthia’s increasingly hopeless ordeal. Considering the film’s budget was skimpier than some of Romay’s outfits, SHINING SEX’s biggest asset is Lina Romay herself, who lets go of ALL her inhibitions for Franco’s voyeuristic camera. Much like her portrayal of Countess Irina in FEMALE VAMPIRE, she dominates the screen with her presence. Playing a pair of Cynthia’s would-be victims, Franco regulars Monica Swinn and Olivier Mathot (as Madame Pécame and Dr. Kallmann respectively) also add substantially to the film’s peculiar milieu. 

 

Barely released onto videocassette back in the day, the film was given some limited exposure at the time via Japan’s Tohokushinsha label. Although in English and running almost 100 minutes, it was made unwatchable due to the extensive censorial digital fogging mandated by the Japanese censor. Here making its worldwide disc debut, Severin’s Blu-ray features an all-new transfer taken directly from Eurociné’s original camera negative, and the results are very eye-opening, indeed. At long last, Severin’s disc retains the film’s original 2.35:1 scope photography, but being a Franco film, detail still varies from scene to scene with some instances of blurred photography. During one brief moment, an in-camera gate weave at the 80-minute mark causes some momentary jitter, but for the most part, things really do look terrific. Sporting an English DTS-HD 2.0 mono audio track, the minimal dialogue also sounds clear and well-equalized while giving plenty of prominence to Daniel White’s outstanding, highly experimental score. 

 

As expected, Severin’s disc comes loaded with several illuminating extra features, which begin with an excellent feature-length audio commentary from Franco expert Robert Monell (who also runs the I’m In A Jess Franco State Of Mind blog), and NaschyCast’s Rodney Barnett. Almost immediately, they readily acknowledge that Franco was (quote) “trying to do something different” with this film even as he reuses the (quote) “same scenario again and again.” They also discuss Franco’s tendency to shoot films back-to-back, the abstract quality of the architecture, the film’s (quote) “weird pop-art aesthetic,” many of its recurrent visual themes, and the (quote) “idea of lust and its horrible power.” Of course, given the pseudonymous nature of the production (Franco directed the film as “Dan L. Simon”), they also talk at great length about many of the performers, Franco’s numerous aliases, and the alternate hardcore variant. 

 

In Severin’s continuing exploration of Franco’s filming locations, In the Land of Franco Part 3 (12m42s) has Stephen Thrower and actor Antonio Mayans returning as our tour guides. This time, they visit many locations in and around Málaga, Spain, which popped up in both MIL SEXOS TIENE LA NOCHE (1984) and JUEGO SUCIO EN CASABLANCA (1985), where it doubled for Tunisia. Our guides also visit several areas where Franco’s ashes were scattered and meet up with Kike Mesa of Andale Audiovisual, who talks about his friendship with Franco during his final years. In Shining Jess (19m14s), Murderous Passions and Flowers of Perversion, author Stephen Thrower returns for an on-camera interview, wherein he thoroughly discusses the title film with his usual eye for detail. He goes on to talk about how it relates to many of the filmmaker’s other productions of the time and how desire is used as a (quote) “potentially dangerous force,” while praising Lina Romay’s unabashed performance, which he cheekily surmises as (quote) “carnality incarnate.” In Silent Running (6m26s), director and post-production sound editor Gerard Kikoïne discusses his time working on more than a few Franco films. He amusingly recalls how many of them had no live sound at all (not even a guide track), which ultimately resulted in some creative manipulations to get everything right. In Franco at Eurociné (17m39s), Eurociné head honcho Daniel Lesoeur relates plenty of anecdotes about Franco’s on-and-off working relationship with the company, and rather fondly, promises he will always remain a (quote) “part of the family.” In Franco-Philia (29m13s), BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF (2001), and SILENT HILL (2006), director Christophe Gans talks about his love of Franco. He believes that his films are more (quote) “musical than cinematic” as well as how Lina Romay’s body was his (quote) “cinematic musical arabesque (!)”, which the director retreated to like some (quote) “Poetic Beaudelaire.” The lengthy extras conclude with some Very NSFW Outtakes (13m10s) used for the film’s hardcore version and the film’s trailer ([3m40s]“Never before has the screen thrilled to such explicit desire!”). The Limited Edition release also comes with In the Land of Franco Vol. 1, a very welcome soundtrack comp CD (14 tracks, 54m) featuring music from several Jess Franco films, the present one included. 

 

Slow-moving yet strangely mesmerizing, SHINING SEX may not be for everyone, but viewers who allow themselves to become immersed in its weird, ethereal reality will find plenty to enjoy, especially via Severin’s extras-filled and definitive Blu-ray! Order the standard edition Blu-ray from Severin Films here.

YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Reviewed by Steve Fenton

Excerpt from an English export press synopsis: ‘For no apparent reason, three youths go on a rampage – a spiral of aimless violence that raises fundamental questions about how society can permit such things to happen...’

Press synopsis, from the Foreign Sales Italian Movie Trade newsletter: ‘More violent than CLOCKWORK ORANGE... the story of two [sic!] young men who carry out a hold-up for the fun of it: the beginning of a series of crimes, absurd misdeeds, violence, desperation and murder.’

One murderous punk, to another: “Haven’t you read Freud? Guys who can’t get a hard-on have ta act badass!”

Based upon an original short story by top Italocrime genre author Giorgio Scerbanenco (who, among others, also wrote the source novel on which Fernando di Leo’s NAKED VIOLENCE [a.k.a. I ragazzi del massacro, 1969] was based; a story which shares many thematic similarities to the present film’s), from a screenplay co-written by Italocrime top gun Fernando di Leo, this was yet another urban crime story torn directly from domestic news headlines. This kind of cautionary ‘youth-runs-wild’ scenario had been prevalent at least as far back as rock’n’roll era American JD flicks (e.g., Fred F. Sears’ TEEN-AGE CRIME WAVE [1955]), but herein is modernized and given a distinctly Italian spin. Here, director Romolo “Guerrieri”/Girolami approximates the genre work of his brother Marino Girolami (a.k.a. “Franco Martinelli”) and his nephew Enzo Girolami (a.k.a. “Enzo G. Castellari”). 

In Milan, having graduated from toy popguns to the real deal, three bored bourgeois punks – Paul Farley (Stefano Patrizi; known as Mario, or il Biondo / “Blondie” on Italo prints), Joseph (“Gio”) Edwards and Louis (“Luigi”) Mayan (the latter pair played by Benjamin Lev and Max Delys respectively) – go on a local criminal rampage in a stolen Fiat 125. In advance from Louis’ concerned girlfriend Lia (Eleonora Giorgi), a savvy police inspector (Tomas Milian) learns the location of a proposed robbery by the trio. Acting on this hot tip-off, Milian and his men stake-out the gas station in question, only to have things go horribly awry when, without provocation, Paul guns-down the manager and several cops are also killed as the kids make their reckless, bullet-strewn getaway. Still in need of cash, they then pull a bank-job – resulting in yet another murder – and make off with five-million lire; just for kicks, the robbin’ hoods end up scattering the stolen money out of the car window into the avariciously clutching hands of grateful pedestrians, who swarm upon this sudden unexpected ‘windfall’ like so many flies to you-know-what. 

Using brand-new submachineguns provided by an arms dealer named Lucky (Diego Abatantuono), the boys next stick-up a supermarket; during which Paul takes unfair advantage of the highly-charged atmosphere to eliminate the trio’s unwanted accomplices, Lucky and his gang. By this point, the only one of the three who has not yet committed murder is Louis; so just for ‘security,’ Paul decides to take Louis’ girlfriend Lia along for the joyride. Disgusted by their unauthorized disorganized crime wave, the local Milanese underworld washes its hands of the three, and renege on their original deal to provide the fugitives with fake passports. Public opinion, meanwhile, leans toward a lynch mob as angry citizens demand that justice be done. Unable to escape across the border and hemmed-in on all sides by police roadblocks as the dragnet tightens, the gang goes to ground in farmland outside the city, where their pointless crime spree ends on still another pointless note. 

To compensate for his rather lacklustre direction here, Romolo Guerrieri injects some pertinent and well-intended (albeit weak, dramatically speaking) social commentary espousing the necessity of tender loving care and healthy communication between fathers and their sons in order to avert future criminal inclinations (a valid theory that is still very much prevalent today). Rather than a violent vigilante cop typical of the period, Milian’s character here – an unnamed commissario identified only by his title – leans decidedly towards the Left while bemoaning the shortage of laws on the books (justifiably) designed to punish negligent parents for the criminality of their offspring (“Because we have to eliminate these three monsters you’ve created!”). That same year of ’76, Milian would first appear as his future iconic Nico Giraldi character in Bruno Corbucci’s comedic crime caper THE COP IN BLUE JEANS, who was as different as night from day in both his appearance and attitude from his character in the present film.

Y, V, D’s lawless punks hotwire a new car as casually as changing their underwear, and recklessly play dodgems (a.k.a. ‘bumper cars’) with police Giulias. During their inaugural armed robbery, for greenhorns – chalk it up to beginner’s luck! – they rather-too-effortlessly rub-out several experienced plainclothes cops. By far most annoying of the three is Joe, nicknamed “the village idiot” by the late (un)Lucky. Quick with the wisecracks, maniacal laughter and trigger finger, Joe models himself after a Wild West gunslinger (“The old .44, my sidekick! Billy the Kid’s on the town... look out! BANG! BANG! BANG!”). As the well-meaning but ineffectual Lia – the boys’ faint voice of conscience; their ‘feminine side,’ if you will – Giorgi looks good but mostly plays it like a whiny, self-pitying rich brat while (be it intentionally or unintentionally) fomenting in-fighting among the overaggressive males in her company. After finally being dumped-off by the roadside like so much unwanted excess baggage, Lia’s ruined young life seems to have lost all direction; another potential tangent upon which Guerrieri fails to elucidate. (Although, to be fair, her character really isn’t all that interesting as anything more than window dressing / eye candy. And, truth be told, she really doesn’t warrant that much sympathy [if any], being as how, attracted as she is to ‘bad boys’, she has voluntarily chosen to hang with the ‘wrong crowd’. On a subtextual level, it might well be argued that Lia’s very presence – an attractive female among a group of hot-headed youths – actually helps to encourage their sociopathic acts, unwittingly or not. But enough with the potential over-analysis here already!) 

Milian’s generic Inspector is never once identified by name throughout. Due to his hippy cop performance in Corbucci’s aforementioned then-recent smash-hit THE COP IN BLUE JEANS (a.k.a. Squadra antiscippo, 1976) – which had opened some six months earlier – original Italian newspaper ads for YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS (September ’76) billed Milian prominently as ‘il poliziotto scatenato’ (“The Rebellious Cop”); which is somewhat ironic, as here – despite being a leftist – the actor sports a three-piece grey pinstripe suit and short hair while playing one of his straightest, most by-the-book policemen ever (shades of his part in Carlo Lizzani’s THE VIOLENT FOUR [Banditi a milano, 1968]). Just for the sake of diametric contrast, compare his anarchic socio/psychopath in Umberto Lenzi’s ALMOST HUMAN (a.k.a. Milano odia: la polizia non può sparare, 1974)!

While it lacks much in the way of true visceral punch, YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS  is engaging enough for the first hour or so, then gradually runs out of gas (at almost 100 minutes long, it could easily have been 20 minutes shorter, with some judicious editing). At last precipitating the finale, the cops have the sense to call in the helicopters and tracking dogs, whereafter the insufferable Joe gets his throat torn out by an Alsatian attack dog. Also including some crazy business with mobsters at a scrap metal yard, some passable action outbursts are among this film’s few saving graces. But there are far, far worse ways to spend your time (committing armed robberies, for instance!), so if you’re in any way, shape or form a fan of the Italocrime genre, chances are you’ll derive at least some degree of entertainment value from this. Besides, in comparison to the fuzzy old second-generation VHS dupe I originally watched it on way back when, Cineploit’s brand-new BD presentation is such an infinitely superior upgrade that it can easily be viewed with ‘different eyes’, so to speak. So by all means give it a look.

Blu-ray Specs & DVD Info (by Dennis Capicik):

In what was one of the finer-looking video presentations of any Eurocrime film at that time, YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS was released onto VHS cassette under its original export title of YOUNG, VIOLENT AND DESPERATE courtesy of Lauren Home Video, an obscure American video label that only issued a small number of titles onto to the market, most of which were Italian films (such as Ruggero Deodato’s WAVES OF LUST [1975] and Fernando di Leo’s incredible neo-noir THE BOSS [1973]). Guerrieri’s film eventually made it to Italian DVD in 2005 thanks to Raro Video, but despite the English-friendly audio option, it was not anamorphic, which left plenty of room for improvement. Unfortunately, this very same print was later utilized for Raro’s US disc debut in 2012. Luckily, the folks at Cineploit took the initiative by striking a new 2K transfer of the film, and the results look mighty fine indeed. Compared to Raro’s earlier substandard discs, this is a vast improvement, boasting much clearer overall detail, perfect colour saturation and a healthy amount of natural film grain – it really is just about perfect! Cineploit have also included DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 audio options in German, English and Italian, with optional subtitles in German and English. 

Extras begin with Liberi, Armati, Pericolosi (15m54s), a wonderful featurette by Eugenio Ercolani, who interviews director Guerrieri, script supervisor Sylvia Petroni and actress Eleonora Giorgi. Guerrieri begins by admitting he (quote) “never managed to make the films I would have wanted”, but has plenty of good things to say about said film, including how he convinced Milian to go against type and play a commissario (“You’ve been going around with a head full of curls playing Monnezza!”) and how he tried to focus more on the human aspect of the characters. Despite his best efforts, however, he was always disappointed when many of these ‘poliziotteschi’ were (quote) “labelled as fascist” by critics. Sylvia Petroni discusses her time working for her father Giulio Petroni on the set of his politically-inclined spaghetti western TEPEPA (1967), as well as her time working with Fernando di Leo, which eventually led to her to her employment by Guerrieri. Although a fairly major presence in the film, Guerrieri was disappointed by his casting of Giorgi; the actress herself admits she was (quote) “just passing by”, and was completely uninterested in working at this stage in her career. Other extras include three separate photo galleries, the first of which highlight the film’s Italian posters and fotobustas while the second and third spotlight video artwork and some wonderful on-set photographs, respectively. As a substantial added bonus, Gianfranco Plenizio’s entire 19-track score (45m34s) is also included. 

As with Cineploit’s other releases, YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS is once again housed in an attractive Mediabook, which  includes a handsomely-illustrated 28-page booklet, predominantly in German, although a print interview with Guerrieri conducted by Ercolani is printed in English. Order the BD from DiabolikDVD here.