THE EXECUTIONER PART II & FROZEN SCREAM - DVD REVIEW

Inexplicably linked by producer-writer Renee Harmon, James Bryan’s The EXECUTIONER PART II and Frank Roach’s FROZEN SCREAM are a pair of insane, almost indescribable pieces of cinema, which are once again made available from the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome with this latest Drive-In Collection DVD.    

Despite the rather confusing title, it should be pointed out that James Bryan’s The EXECUTIONER PART II (1984) is NOT a sequel to Sam Wanamaker’s The EXECUTIONER (1970) with George Peppard, which was however, popular enough in Europe to gain financing on the title alone.  Clearly ‘inspired’ by James Glickenhaus’ rather slick New York-based revenge actioner The EXTERMINATOR (1980) with Robert Ginty (even the crudely-illustrated—if pretty cool—poster art features a Ginty lookalike), this extremely inept rip-off shifts the action to Los Angeles, where, instead of a flamethrower, the Executioner likes to use hand grenades and plenty of hand-to-hand combat.

A vigilante is on the loose in L.A. and the cops, led by detective Roger O’Malley (Chris Mitchum), are at a loss, even though some impromptu narration informs us, “Maybe we’d all sleep better if the police leave him alone.”  Celia Amhurst (producer Renee Harmon), a reporter on the case, tries to get answers, but she doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere.  Meanwhile, O’Malley’s daughter Laura (Bianca Phillipi) is trying to pay for her drug addiction (“I need dope!”), and through her friend Kitty (Marisi Courtwright) is introduced to Pete Vance (Frank Albert), a lowlife pimp who arranges “special entertainment” for Tony Casallas (Frisco Estes), the local underworld boss better-known as “The Tattoo Man”, who also wants this “modern-day superman or reckless vigilante” dead, because he’s seriously interfering with Casallas’ criminal empire.  O’Malley continues his investigation and begins to suspect his friend and fellow ex-Vietnam veteran Mike (Antoine John Mottet), who has been suffering from some serious flashbacks…

Laura (Bianca Phillipi) and "The Tattoo Man" (Frisco Estes).

Although on paper it sounds like any run-of-the-mill vigilante film, James Bryan’s The EXECUTIONER PART II is, like Bryan’s DON’T GO IN THE WOODS (1980), incomparable to what most regular movies should be and feel like.  Breathtaking in its ineptitude, it’s one of the more impoverished and chaotically-assembled films you’re likely to stumble upon, with its own set of rules.  According to “The Executioner’s Song” (a filmed interview with director Bryan included on this disc), this film was shot using 35mm short-ends over weekends in order to maximize longer camera rentals, and even though Bryan is credited as the director, his directing credit is negligible since he was essentially “the crew”, doing any and every job he could.  Pieced together with whatever footage he could salvage, most of the dubbing and sound effects were also done in post-production, so the cut-rate action scenes have an exaggerated, other-worldly feel to them; the excruciatingly awful dubbing only adds to the threadbare production values and just about turns the film into a comedy.  Even many of the so-called gang members look like third-rate rejects from Walter Hill’s The WARRIORS (1979) auditioning for FLASHDANCE (1983), which seriously harms their credibility, and at times, the film almost seems like a sendup of the genre.  Only Tony Casallas as the elusive “Tattoo Man” demonstrates any real threat, and with the help of Pete, he gets to indulge in his sadistic tendencies when he puts out his cigarettes on Laura.  Regardless of its MANY shortcomings, The EXECUTIONER PART II still has an infinite amount of infectious energy, and for that fact alone it remains hugely entertaining.

Moving onto the other feature on this “Drive-In Collection” disc, Frank Roach’s FROZEN SCREAM (1980) is another Renee Harmon production, which allows this “German war bride”-turned-filmmaker even more screen time, and to be honest, is all the better for it.  She stars as Lil Stanhope, a doctor experimenting with immortality (“Ever since the creation of life, I have dreamed of immortality”), which involves reanimated corpses, robe-cloaked murderers and ocean-side séances.  Along with Sven Johnson (Lee James), they kill their former partner Tom Gerard (Wolf Muser) after he suffers from an ethical crisis, but they didn’t count on Tom’s wife Ann (Lynne Kocol) and Detective McGuire (Thomas Gowen) snooping into Tom’s mysterious death.

Renee Harmon as the nefarious Dr. Lil Stanhope.

Again, what at first appears to be a regular, rather mundane plotline becomes an almost mystifying film experience due to its unique and haphazard execution, and it has no right to be as enjoyable as it is.  Made on a shoestring by Harmon utilizing some of her film class students, FROZEN SCREAM moves in-between dream sequences and flashbacks without any thought whatsoever, which is further complicated by yet another hollow, post-dubbed soundtrack (courtesy of James Bryan who, once again, handled most of the post-production work) only adding to the already bizarre, but highly entertaining nature of this entire production.  What begins as a standard slasher film, complete with a double murder by a bug-eyed, robed man and typical P.O.V. shots soon escalates into something entirely different.  More murders do occur, including a rather gory axe to the head, but FROZEN SCREAM seems much more preoccupied with existential themes about human existence and our destinies in the afterlife (“What we call death is merely a change”).  During a flashback, a séance on a deserted beach is taking place during Halloween where Stanhope and Johnson organize a “celebration of the spirit of resurrection” as everyone chants “love and immortality”, while Cathrin (Sunny Batholomew), who is like “walking ice”, drops her top.  Then, in a rather confusing turn of events, Ann has a flashback within a flashback about her dead husband Tom.  In case it all gets a little too confusing for everyone, Detective McGuire provides some film-noirish narration to try and help keep things in check, but in a sloppy or purposely arty bit of sound editing, his narration occurs during a dialogue scene.  A truly delirious experience, FROZEN SCREAM is a labyrinthine assemblage of grand ideas made on a zero budget, and, as such, is a completely invigorating and unforgettable bit of independent horror cinema.  

In spite of their humble origins, both films look far better than any previous available versions on this Vinegar Syndrome Drive-In Collection disc.  Mastered in 2K from the original camera negative, The EXECUTIONER PART II looks incredibly sharp and crisp, and unlike the old edited VHS version, it retains the original 1.78:1 aspect ratio, and is also completely uncut.  As for FROZEN SCREAM, it was also mastered in 2K from the original 16mm camera negatives, but due to the limitations of the 16mm photography it’s still quite grainy, but infinitely more watchable than any previous VHS or bootleg DVD release, with a clarity not seen in those earlier, and far inferior, releases.  Other than the aforementioned James Bryan interview, “The Executioner’s Song”, the only other extra is a very entertaining trailer for The EXECUTIONER PART II.  Order this amazing double feature DVD from Vinegar Syndrome here.  

THE FARMER'S DAUGHTERS - DVD REVIEW

Director Zebedy Colt, who made The FARMER’S DAUGHTERS (1976) at the height of porno chic, was never interested in the high-gloss productions of his contemporaries; instead he focused his attentions on the downright nasty, and according to Stephen Thrower, author of the indispensible book NIGHTMARE USA, (quote) “some of the most diabolically honest products of American erotic cinema.”  Following his superlative, and still shocking, The DEVIL INSIDE HER (1976), Mr. Colt once again focuses his attentions on a small country family, but this time instead of devil possessions and satanic black masses, three escaped convicts not only terrorize, but also unleash a torrent of dirty secrets within the family that seriously challenge their already over-active libidos.

Zebedy Colt and Gloria Leonard (credited here as Gayle Leonard) star as the husband-and-wife couple whose three insatiable daughters (Marlene Willoughby, Susan McBain & Nancy Dare) gleefully spy on their lovemaking and then, in a heated frenzy, forcibly have sex with the local farmhand (Bill Cort).  When three escaped convicts looking for refuge barge in on their ‘antics’, these equally horny guys, led by future SWIMMING TO CAMBODIA (1987) star Spalding Gray, also get in on the action, leading to a prolonged outdoor orgy, incest, a rather startling twist, and a completely bizarre surrealistic ending. 

Taking its cue from the numerous ‘roughies’ (a brand of sexploitation film mixing sex with violence) and Wes Craven’s LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972), this backyard production, which, incidentally, looks like it was shot over one long weekend somewhere in either upstate New York or New Jersey (The DEVIL INSIDE HER was shot in Lambertville, New Jersey, for those that care about such things), is an utterly irredeemable porno flick.  At just over an hour in length, director Colt strips the film down to the bare essentials with virtually wall-to-wall sex, and given the film’s horror-styled approach, it’s sadistic edge is definitely hard to forget.  As with most of Colt’s film work, The FARMER’S DAUGHTERS is a very low-budget affair and not exactly an inventive piece of filmmaking, but the rural setting (imagine an even lower-budgeted and far nastier version of all those Harry Novak hillbilly flicks like TOBACCO ROODY [1970]), and surprise casting of Spalding Gray (1941-2004) – future “legit” actor and monologist from such films as Roland Joffe’s The KILLING FIELDS (1984) and Steven Soderbergh’s KING OF THE HILL (1993) – give the film an odd distinction among the glut of ’70s smut. But what really separates Colt’s humble adult features of the time is his rather unflappable approach to the scuzzy material.  Although sloppily shot by Charles Lamont (who also worked with Colt on numerous occasions) with lots of hand-held camerawork, the rather unrehearsed feel also adds to the depraved verisimilitude, and to their credit, Colt and Lamont do the best they can with the ‘one-day wonder’ budget which producer Leonard Kirtman (working under his “Leon de Leon” moniker) most likely allotted them.  As for Kirtman, he produced a number of films throughout the ’70s, including the aforementioned The DEVIL INSIDE HER, he was also the director of CARNIVAL OF BLOOD (1970), a low-budget carny horror featuring an early appearance from character actor Burt Young, and then, later in the decade – usually credited as “Leon Gucci” – he directed a number of adult features like INSIDE DESIREÉ COUSTEAU (1978).

Newspaper ad from the L.A. Herald (1978) courtesy of Mike Ferguson & Steve Fenton.

Originally available on DVD through Alpha Blue Archives in a Zebedy Colt Triple Feature and separately from Gourmet Video, both these versions utilized a cut, VHS-sourced version, which was quite the eyesore.  Don’t expect any earth-shattering restorations with this newest DVD release from Impulse Pictures; it includes all the usual scratches and splices indicative of no-budget stuff like this, but unlike those earlier, inferior releases, the picture quality is vastly improved and, even more importantly, this is the rarely-seen uncut version which, according to the ad-copy, is “one of the most eyebrow raising films in the Impulse Pictures library!” Presented in its original 1.33:1 aspect ratio, there are no extras related to the release, but this disc does include a “sneak peek” at Impulse’s ongoing and exhaustive 42^nd STREET FOREVER - THE PEEP SHOW COLLECTION series, which has so far spawned 13 volumes.  Buy The FARMER’S DAUGHTERS from DiabolikDVD here.  

LEGACY OF SATAN & BLOOD - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Originally released in 1974 by Bryanston Pictures, Code Red has decided to recreate this rarely-seen double bill with this Limited Edition Blu-ray, which was released through Screen Archives Entertainment earlier this year. 

Like so many ’70s horror pictures purporting to deal with Satanism or some sort of devil cult, Gerard Damiano’s LEGACY OF SATAN (1974) doesn’t have the usual nudity or even mild gore associated with a genre such as this, and despite many nice atmospheric touches and one of the most wacked-out, abrasive synth scores you’ll ever hear, it’s actually quite anemic, despite the inherent potential, but yet, in some strange way, it’s all quite compelling just the same. 

Beginning with the eponymous satanic ceremony, it is foretold that a “girl of pale complexion and tender years” will be chosen for a historical union in order to “strengthen the power of the master”.  Lots of mumbo-jumbo, blood-drinking and chanting (“Lord Rakeesh, come to us!”) keep the viewer entertained as big, garish credits unspool over the proceedings.  Maya (Lisa Cristian) and George (Paul Barry) play a New York couple, who, while hosting a dinner party at their house, discuss the philosophical complexities of good and evil (“you must also believe in the devil”) with their friend Arthur (James Proctor).  He is actually part of the aforementioned coven, and he is ordered by his leader Dr. Muldavo (John Francis) to invite Maya to a “costume party” at his out-of-the-way, castle-like mansion.  Further ceremonies and drugged-out hallucinations ensue, but when Muldavo’s assistant Aurelia becomes jealous of Maya, she helps George escape his shackles, and with the help of an EXCALIBUR-like sacrificial sword (it actually glows in the dark while a low-fi buzz is heard on the soundtrack to demonstrate its supposed power!), they try to defeat Muldavo.  

Produced a year before Damiano’s now legendary The DEVIL IN MISS JONES ([1973] a clever take on Sam Wood’s The DEVIL AND MISS JONES [1941], with Jean Arthur), LEGACY OF SATAN could be viewed as a minor precursor to what is arguably one of Damiano’s darkest and best films.  Running at a very brief 69 minutes, it’s rumored that LEGACY OF SATAN began as a hardcore film (sometime around 1972) and, at the insistence of its producer ‘Lou Parish’ (the infamous Louis “Butchie” Peraino, producer of Damiano’s DEEP THROAT [1972] and part of the Colombo crime family) decided to turn the film into a straight-up horror film.  Why the sudden change is anyone’s guess and it could just be a rumor, but the brief running time and simplistic set-up would certainly attest to this.  Anyway, what we’re left with, to quote the late Mighty Monarch of Exploitation, Mr. David F. Friedman, is “all sizzle and NO steak!” 

Although nudity and even gore is kept to a minimum, LEGACY OF SATAN seems almost childlike in its execution next to The DEVIL IN MISS JONES, but for those willing to give it a spin, it still has enough weirdness to keep it entertaining.  Early in the film, Maya is possessed from afar by Muldavo’s resident High Priestess (Deborah Holren), which results in a number of hallucinations (like crusty-faced killers and bleeding paintings) and a sudden, almost obsessive interest in blood.  At one point, she cuts her finger and gets her rather apprehensive husband to seductively lick it off in one of the many sexual tension-filled scenes.  Once at Muldavo’s mansion, Maya and George (wearing a diaphanous nightie and jester’s outfit, respectively) are drugged and begin hallucinating almost immediately as the film resorts to lots of distorted wide-angel photography and multi-coloured gel lighting as the already jarring synth score crescendos to a fever-pitch at almost ear-piercing levels.  Composed by Arlon Ober and Mel Zelniker, this is surely one of the more unique and, perhaps, ahead of its time scores; it may annoy the bejesus out of many, but it certainly adds plenty of weirdly effective atmosphere.  Unusual for such a no-budget production, the film also looks great (especially on this Blu-ray) thanks to João Fernandes’ slick and colourful photography.  Usually hiding behind under his nom-de-porn of ‘Harry Flecks’, Fernandes was a very prolific DP and a favourite of Damiano’s who used him on many of his best-known adult features, but he also lent his talents to many a low-budget feature such as William Witney’s DARKTOWN STRUTTERS (1975).  In the ’80s, he became Joseph Zito’s favourite cameraman, starting with BLOODRAGE (1981, a.k.a. NEVER PICK UP A STRANGER) right up until RED SCORPION (1988), but also found the time to work on Fritz Kiersch’s CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984) and numerous Cannon films.

Previously available from BCI/Eclipse as part of their “Blood Bath 2” 4-pack, LEGACY OF SATAN comes to Blu-ray courtesy of Code Red presented in it’s original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and enhanced for 16x9.  Mastered from a “surviving C.R.I. 35mm” print, and as promised on the back of the Blu-ray, “due to the high volume of internet complaints, we did not use DNR and kept the grain intact”, so the transfer is quite sharp and very film-like; this will NEVER look any better than it does here!  

The second feature on this disc is one of Andy Milligan’s more elusive period efforts, the rather blandly titled BLOOD (1974), but despite that title, it’s anything but.  After moving from the fictitious European region of Mortavia, Dr. Lawrence Orlofski (Allan Berendt) returns to the U.S.A. with his wife Regina (Hope Stansbury), who “doesn’t like the daylight hours”.  Along with Orlofski’s servants Carrie (Patti Gaul), the legless Orlando (Michael Fischetti) and dim-witted Carlotta (Pichulina Hampi), this bunch of misfits promptly move in and immediately give Regina a life-saving injection as she deteriorates in the harsh New England sun.  It seems Lawrence Orlofski has some unfinished business with his father’s estate, which has been put in the hands of the unscrupulous Carl Root (John Wallowitch), who also threatens to reveal the family secret and Lawrence Orlofski’s real name: Talbot.

This throwback to the Universal horrors from the ’30s and ’40s is probably one of Milligan’s more accessible and polished efforts from his stable of horror films – the other being his British-lensed The MAN WITH TWO HEADS (1971).  His tongue is firmly planted in his cheek for most of the running time (the ending is a nice touch), but Milligan’s monsters are even more tortured than normal allowing him to pepper his script with his usual acerbic, and almost autobiographical, dialogue.  When Lawrence is questioned by Regina for his afternoon dalliance with Root’s assistant Prudence Towers (Pamela Adams), she quickly tells him to “Go to hell,” for which he replies, “I’m there already!”  Further bickering ensues between Carrie and Regina (“you are such a selfish woman”), which are all typical staples of most Milligan films.  When Carrie’s brother Johnny (David Bevans) arrives from overseas, he is first introduced as her possible boyfriend, but as they kiss, a much darker relationship reveals itself, which is soon cut short as Regina plants a giant meat cleaver in his skull.    

A general malaise permeates the entire film, and even though its no surprise Lawrence turns out to be a werewolf and Regina a vampire (the Daughter of Dracula, no less!), they are portrayed as frustrated and sickly.  In one of the film’s stranger subplots, the cultivation of carnivorous, highly poisonous plants provide Regina with a necessary serum to help keep her alive, but the plants themselves need constant doses of new blood.  These dubious experiments have also taken their toll on their devoted caretakers; Orlando has already lost both his legs to these monstrous plants, which are now growing beyond their control (“the climate seems to agree with them more”); Carrie’s leg is also badly infected with giant pustule-like sores; Regina, in complete desperation, resorts to eating live mice and even Lawrence suffers greatly after turning into a werewolf.  When a highly inquisitive real estate salesman arrives asking questions, he quickly becomes a meal for these mysterious plants as they slurp and munch away on his legs, but Lawrence is worried that these plants are quickly becoming “completely carnivorous”. 

Like GURU THE MAD MONK (1970), this film runs just over an hour in length (this Blu-ray contains the full 69-minute film as opposed to previous versions, which only ran 57 minutes) and moves rather briskly (at least for a Milligan film) right up to its entertaining conclusion.  Anyone even remotely interested in those early monster movies will certainly get a kick out of this very, very low-budget monster mash, even if the monsters themselves don’t have that much screen time.  Milligan’s usually erratic camerawork is a little more restrained this time around, with some decent compositions, which at times were even a little reminiscent of the colourful milieus of a low-rent Douglas Sirk.  Honestly!  Even some of Milligan’s meager costume design (once again hiding behind his usual pseudonym of Raffiné) is better than average, as opposed to some of the thrown-together stuff from his earlier and more widely-seen TORTURE DUNGEON (1970).  

Retaining the film’s original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and enhanced for 16x9, BLOOD was mastered from a “longer 35mm print”, which contains occasional lines and scratches, but for the most part, it also looks pretty damn good despite the limitations of Milligan’s photography.  This “Bryanston Pictures Double Bill” was a pleasant and much welcome surprise from Code Red, so order your copy from Screen Archives here before it disappears.

SEASON FOR ASSASSINS - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Reviewed by Steve Fenton with additional comments from Dennis Capicik.

US video blurbs: “Four ruthless, sadistic young hoodlums, looking for the fastest route to easy street, embark on a violent and bloody path that points straight to oblivion... Rape, harassment, and terrorism are ‘easy’ crimes to master; they’re great for kicks, but not for cash... The big dollars are in major league crime: extortion, armed robbery, and murder...”

Under the title SEASON FOR ASSASSINS, this film was formerly (circa the 1980s) extant on domestic North American Betamax/VHS videocassettes from both Unicorn and USA Home Video.

What we’ve got here is an oddball mishmash of a film, simultaneously ambitious and amateurish, which content-wise is much in the vein of Romolo Guerrieri’s rogue-youths-on-a-rampage action drama, YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS (1976).

In Rome, Piero Giarranaldi (whose last name was shortened to “Naldi” on Anglo prints; Joe Dallesandro) and his three buddies are reckless street punks who enjoy joyriding through rush hour traffic. They recklessly endanger the life of an innocent moped rider, treat other cars like dodgems for their amusement and jeopardize pedestrians, all in the name of cheap kicks. For dirty cash, Piero and his boys run minor break-and-enter scams for an underworld fence named Mr. Poggi (Settimio Segnatelli), who promises the gang (“They were born small, and they’re gonna stay small!”) their shot at the big leagues any day now. Their long-awaited “big job” arrives in the form of a stocks-and-cash heist at a jewelry store. While Poggi has given explicit instructions that there should be no gunplay involved on the robbers’ part, the panicked proprietor shoots one of the gang instead, resulting in a massed police manhunt...

Dallesandro – whose famous “Joe” tattoo is plainly visible here, despite his onscreen character’s different first name – looks much as he did in his notorious Warhol films, and is dubbed by a different actor (a blessing, considering his severely limited emotive range). Joe’s lawless Piero character’s father is institutionalized. He neglects his older live-in girlfriend, a streetwalker named Romana (Magali Noël [“I make good money behind the bushes!”]; IMDb gives her character name as “Rossana”), who in turn neglects their unwanted, illegitimate infant child. Piero’s other roommate is a weird monk, Father Eugenio (Rossano Brazzi [“My parish is in the streets!”]), who openly ogles pin-ups of naked women and is frowned upon by Vatican II (Monsignor: “Cultivating a gang of infamous delinquents is hardly a Christian act!”). After one of his criminal subordinates beats-up and robs Fr. Eugenio, Dallesandro threatens to cut the perp’s head off with a circular table saw!

Playing vigilante Commissioner Quattroni (whose name the IMDb gives as “Katroni”), name-brand Yank guest star Martin Balsam’s sudden outburst of ‘police brutality’ is poorly motivated and even more poorly staged. Brazzi’s cassocked cleric is on hand to torment Balsam’s nonexistent conscience (“Take that gun and kill off all that crap in the name of the law!”). For the messy finale, Joe is cornered by Balsam after he makes his break in a Ford Capri rally car.

Martin Balsam (left) wonders why a guy named Piero has a 'Joe' tattoo.

Co-written by sleazy-cheapie spezialista Piero Regnoli – whose name attached to it should clue you in to the film’s humble origins – the script also dwells on Joe’s burgeoning relationship with virginal nice girl Sandra (Cinzia Mambretti, in a part originally proposed for Marina Malfatti). No sooner has he sunk his hooks in than he ‘seduces’ her after first spiking her Coca-Cola. At the same time, dysfunctional Joe must fend off confrontations with the mother of his bastard son; using his ill-gotten gains to make child-support payments. When his new girl Sandra also becomes knocked-up, Joe coldly demands she have an abortion (“I only came around for a couple of good fucks! ...I’d rather stay home and jerk off!”). At his most misogynistic, Joe watches while Sandra is gang-raped, then – evidently sickened more by his own behavior than the sordid scene he is watching – vomits afterwards. After jumping to her death from a high-rise in shame (a very fake dummy actually takes the fall, which severely compromises the intended seriousness of the scene by making it laughable), Sandra’s bloodied corpse is gnawed on by scavenger dogs that also root through garbage, thus driving home still more heavy-handed symbolism.

The cast is filled with unprepossessing pimply-faced, shaggy-haired youths, who, while providing verisimilitude, don’t make this uniformly ugly production any easier on the eye. As ugly aurally as it is visually, the soundtrack is padded with bad US-styled ’70s hard rock (sample lyrics: “I’m a gang leader / A man of terror”). Attempts at arty cutting fall flat (blame it on editor Giulio Berruti, documentarist and future director of KILLER NUN [1978], also co-starring Dallesandro). Further burdened with messy philosophical dialogue, IL TEMPO DEGLI ASSASSINI tries too hard to cover too many bases at once (i.e., Church vs. State, Good vs. Evil, and everything else in-between). Narratively all over the shop, the film seems unsure whether it’s a violent, exploitative crime actioner or a more serious social commentary. As is perhaps indicated by its muddled and often dramatically unsound scenario, IL TEMPO DEGLI ASSASSINI seems to have had a troubled production history (shooting was for some reason forestalled, then resumed in July of ’75); which still doesn’t excuse the fact that it’s so horribly directed – blame it on Marcello Andrei, who got the credit! – with more slack than Dallesandro’s acting. It’s also overwrought, with an unbelievably ham-fisted ending that strives for poignancy without even coming close. Virtually the only bearable aspects are some diverting auto stunts. Franco Garofalo, a typecast ‘lowlife’ player seen in other more entertaining Italocrime entries (including Bruno Corbucci’s The COP IN BLUE JEANS and Massimo Dallamano’s COLT 38 SPECIAL SQUAD [both 1976]) is one of the few familiar faces to be found in the supporting cast.

Most apt line of dialogue (incidentally, it and all the other quotes given above are quoted verbatim from the English-dubbed export transfer print contained on Unicorn Video’s erstwhile domestic tape edition): “These things are like a pile of horse manure: the more you turn it over, the more it stinks!” There’s a message in there somewhere...

That same year, Playmen editrix Adelina Tattilo also co-produced Carlo Lizzani’s supersleazy prostitution exposé, STORIE DI VITA E MALAVITA, which was a helluva lot better made but about ten times as scungy.

Despite the rather uneven nature of the film itself, there isn’t much fault to be had with Subkultur’s recent Blu-ray/DVD Combo (encoded for Region B and Region 2, respectively), which gives the film a much spiffier appearance than it probably deserves.  Every pimply-faced, shaggy-haired youth literally pops off the screen, while Dallesandro’s trademark “Joe” tattoo is even more clearly visible in this superb HD rendering.  Although lacking in any real substantial or illuminating extras, this edition contains two versions of the film, including the original, full-length (96m18s) version containing both German and Italian language options as well as optional English subtitles; it would have been nice to have the English dub-track, but it’s no great loss.  The second version (in German only) is the German theatrical print (in much rougher shape), which runs 89m26s and shortens all sorts of bits and pieces, including the film’s opening car chase. This version also contains a number of unique German-language trailers, which play before the main feature including one for Ernesto Gastaldi's The LONELY VIOLENT BEACH (1971) under the title ROCKER STERBEN NICHT SO LEICHT.  Other extras include both the German and Italian trailers (in HD), a photo and poster gallery and a “trailershow” highlighting some of the label's other releases.  A 32-page German-language booklet with writing from Pelle Felsch and Cristoph Draxtra is also included.  This Blu-ray is limited to only 1000 copies, so grab it while you still can!  Order it at DiabolikDVD here.