BILLY THE KID VERSUS DRACULA - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Arguably best-known to many for directing the Sammy Petrillo and Duke Mitchell cult oddity BELA LUGOSI MEETS A BROOKLYN GORILLA (1952), William Beaudine (1892-1970) had an extremely prolific career—he directed well over 200 films!—that stretched all the way back to the silent era, spanning just about every commercial genre of film, with a particular emphasis on B-western programmers. Following his role as Count Dracula (alias “Baron Latos”) in Erle C. Kenton’s monster mash-up HOUSE OF DRACULA (1945), the equally-prolific John Carradine re-donned the cape yet again for BILLY THE KID VERSUS DRACULA (1966), one of Beaudine’s very last films, a cost-conscious if highly-entertaining ‘horror western’ quickie (shot back-to-back with the same director’s JESSE JAMES MEETS FRANKENSTEIN’S DAUGHTER), which has recently made its worldwide Blu-ray debut thanks to the efforts of Kino Lorber Studio Classics.

Fluttering through the night as a giant vampire bat, ‘Dracula’ (Carradine) has been quietly terrorizing the wild west, and in the film’s opening, under the cover of night, he sneakily takes a bite out of a young woman whose parents, Eva (Virginia Christine) and Franz Oster (Walter Janovitz), become convinced the perpetrator was a vampire. Following a simplistic-yet-imaginative credit sequence, which perfectly sets the appropriate tone, our titular bloodsucker boards a stagecoach and is immediately smitten by a photo of Mrs. Bentley’s (Marjorie Bennett) daughter Betty (Melinda Plowman), about whom he boldly remarks, “She’s eighteen andso beautiful!” In need of a quick plan, he incenses a group of usually peaceful Indians after he kills one of their own and, as a result, they attack the stage and kill everyone on board, a development which allows the canny vampire to assume the guise of James Underhill (William Forrest), Betty’s long-absent uncle and the owner of the family ranch. Upon his arrival, he is dismayed to learn that Betty is actually engaged to William Bonney (Chuck Courtney), Mrs. Bentley’s ranch-hand, who is better-known to most as Billy the Kid (“Marry a notorious gunslinger! I won’t hear of it!”). After he assumes control of the ranch, the locals begin to cast suspicion on ‘Mr. Underhill’, which is exacerbated by the arrival of Eva and Franz, the immigrant couple from the film’s opening.

In what is much more of a western than a traditional horror film, Carradine’s vampire, contrary to the film’s spirited title, is never actually referred to as Dracula, nor does he ever even sprout the usual fangs, either. In what was most likely a budgetary constraint or a glaring continuity error, he also parades around in complete daylight, but at the same time, the ol’ bloodsucker is always in need of sleep (“I’m very tired. I may sleep all day!”), and occasionally catches some ZZZ’s at an abandoned silver mine on the outskirts of town. In yet another bizarre ‘revisionist’ touch, however, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin, but rather a neatly-made queen-size bed instead (with fittingly blood-red sheets). Perhaps toying with the established vampire lore, Beaudine and scriptwriter Carl Hittleman also further break the ‘rules’ by allowing their eponymous menace to be staked with an iron spike instead of the usual wooden stake, but at the same time, such traditional means as holy crosses and wolfbane seem to repel him as well.

Regardless of its many inconsistencies, Beaudine’s film remains a whole lot of fun just the same, which commentators Lee Gambin and John Harrison lovingly refer to as part of the “weird western” subgenre, a smattering of genre-hopping westerns that includes Edward Nassour’s and Ismael Rodríguez’s THE BEAST OF HOLLOW MOUNTAIN (1956), James O’Connelly’s THE VALLEY OF GWANGI (1969) and Larry G. Spangler’s A KNIFE FOR THE LADIES (1974), latter of which featured a Jack the Ripper-style killer set against a western backdrop. Worn-out and emaciated, John Carradine’s vampire remains exhausted-looking despite putting the bite on a number of women, apparently having a hard time assimilating into the harsh – and barren – landscape of the west as opposed to his usual European stomping grounds. Virginia Christine, who, like Carradine, also starred in a couple of Universal horror films from the ’Forties (including Leslie Goodwins’ THE MUMMY’S CURSE [1944]), adds a nice European touch to the proceedings as she casts her suspicions on this mysterious visitor, while veteran screen actor Olive Carey (also seen in John Ford’s THE SEARCHERS [1956] andTWO RODE TOGETHER [1961]) is wonderful as the straightforward, no-nonsense Dr. Henrietta Hull, who, in one of the film’s many rudimentary in-camera effects, discovers Mr. Underhill’s secret when she notices that he casts no reflection in a mirror (yet another traditional aspect of vampire lore that was retained). In an interesting role for Chuck Courtney, the star of yet another “weird western”, Jacques R. Marquette’s TEENAGE MONSTER (1958), Courtney imbues plenty of sympathetic traits into his performance as Billy the Kid, the infamous gunslinger, who is trying to change his trigger-happy ways, but who nonetheless draws his guns during the film’s unique, seemingly almost improvised, finale.

Released onto Beta / VHS videocassettes (“Billy the Kid is down for the “Count”!”) by Embassy Home Entertainment in 1986, BILLY THE KID VERSUS DRACULA seemed to bypass DVD altogether with the exception of a few bootleg editions from the likes of Cheezy Flicks, which were nothing more than VHS-rips. Following their massive licensing deal with StudioCanal, Kino Lorber Studio Classics finally give Beaudine’s little film a much-needed upgrade, which is superior in every way. Looking far more detailed and colourful than ever before (the fun opening credits look especially nice in HD), some scenes do still remain a little on the ‘soft’ side, but this is clearly a by-product of the actual physical film stock itself and not a result of the transfer, which is spot-on. The DTS-HD MA 2.0 audio also sounds perfect, which really draws attention to Raoul Kraushaar’s wonderful score. 

The big – and very welcome – extra is an audio commentary with authors and film historians Lee Gambin and John Harrison, who profess early on that they have a lot to discuss over the film’s short running time of 75 minutes, which they do admirably. They talk a lot about westerns and the (quote) “changing period of the genre”, and how this particular film was a (quote) “throwback to the classic genre”, which also leads into a lengthy discussion about the history of Billy the Kid on screen. Of course, they also go on to discuss both William Beaudine’s and John Carradine’s highly extensive filmographies, which leads to all sorts of delightful tangents as both of them bounce titles around. Lastly, they also discuss Kraushaar’s music and some of the borrowed cues, including stuff from Spencer G. Bennett’s 15-part serial THE PURPLE MONSTER STRIKES (1945) and Edgar G. Ulmer’s DAUGHTER OF DR. JEKYLL (1957). It’s a jam-packed, entertaining listen from a pair of knowledgeable and enthusiastic film lovers, who cap things off with their personal favourite “weird western” selection.

Unfortunately, no trailer for the film is included on the disc, but Kino has included a number of other horror trailers, including Reginald Le Borg’s THE BLACK SLEEP (1956), Ted V. Mikels’ THE ASTRO-ZOMBIES (1968) and Pete Walker’s THE HOUSE OF LONG SHADOWS (1983), which also star the wonderful John Carradine, and all of which are available from Kino. Order it direct from Kino or DiabolikDVD.

THE BEAST IN HEAT - BLU-RAY REVIEW

In their pursuit to try and issue as many current and former ‘Video Nasties’ onto Blu-ray, Severin Films have chosen to release one of the nastiest nasties of them all: namely Luigi Batzella’s THE BEAST IN HEAT (1977), an infamous patchwork concoction which represents the absolute nadir of an already suspect subgenre. One of a handful of Nazi-themed exploitation pictures (hence the inevitable catch-all term “Nazisploitation”), Batzella’s lowly offering to the form gets quite the deluxe overhaul indeed with a brand new 2K scan taken from (quote) “35mm negative elements”, and in spite (perhaps even because) of the film’s humble origins, the results are quite remarkable.

Clearly an imitation of Dyanne Thorne’s now-legendary “Ilsa” character from Don Edmonds’ ILSA: SHE WOLF OF THE SS (1974) and its two ‘official’ sequels, in BEAST Dr. Ellen Kratsch (Macha Magall) is finalizing her (quote) “creation of an artificial master race”, which is nothing more than a caged, primordial-looking beast (the aptly-named “Sal Boris” / a.k.a. Salvatore Baccaro) that gleefully rapes most of her female captives. In a ridiculous bit of post-synched dubbing, Dr. Kratsch hilariously promises her in-house brute will (quote) “make the God Eros go green with envy!” Meanwhile, due to the careless efforts of one Captain Hardinghafser (Kim Gatti / a.k.a. Edilio Kim), local partisans led by Moreno (Alfredo Rizzo) and munitions expert Drago (John Braun / a.k.a. Gino Turini) successfully blow-up a tactically important bridge, an act which enrages the Nazi top brass (“As you can see, it is not easy dealing with half-vits!”), who then order Dr. Kratsch to assist in both the capture and torture of the partisans and their womenfolk.

Accentuated by the film’s quickie cash-in status and downright ludicrous – often verging on cartoonish – English dubbing, Batzella’s film is impossible to take seriously, despite its many grisly, uh, ‘highlights’. These include flagellation, fingernail-yanking, electro-shock treatments, and ‘flesh-eating rats’ (in actuality only harmless domesticated guinea pigs [?!]). Then there’s “The Beast” itself, that in one over-the-top scene even resorts to some impromptu cannibalism. Also seen in Bruno Mattei’s tawdry SALON KITTY (1976) rip-off SS GIRLS (a.k.a. PRIVATE HOUSE OF THE SS, 1976), Macha Magall ticks all the appropriate boxes with her pulpy portrayal of a sadistic, leering dominatrix (“You’re just a bitch on heat!”) and she remains the dubious highlight of the film. However, interspersed amidst all the lowest-common-denominator exploitable elements, we get a tired and rather-too-convoluted narrative involving the Italian resistance movement, double-crosses and even dissention among the ranks (“I’m bored of this war!” exclaims one partisan). These less-interesting subplots take up much of the film, and are actually merely redubbed / repurposed footage from Batzella’s earlier – equally meagre – WWII flick, WHEN THE BELL TOLLS (1970). This ‘creative recycling’ of pre-existing scenes also explains the uncredited reappearance in BEAST (presumably without either his knowledge or remuneration) of ex-peplum strongman and usual total badass Brad Harris in an atypical role as a sympathetic priest named Don Lorenzo; other familiar Eurotrash supporting players to look out for include Brigitte Skay as a local prostitute, Xiro Papas (probably best-remembered as the fedora-wearing, sex-starved manster in Mario Mancini’s FRANKENSTEIN ’80 [1972]) as yet another partisan leader, as well as stuntman / bit-parter Benito Pacifico in a tertiary capacity. 

Although most of the notoriety heaped upon this film stems from its early ’Eighties U.K. videocassette release, Batzella’s film also garnered an uncut U.S. home video release in 1985 courtesy of notorious sleaze merchants Video City Productions (box-blurb: “Helpless victims caught in a mad quest for power!”), whose now-hard-to-find Beta/VHS edition featured some truly eye-popping cover art. The film was released yet again in 1987, this time by Mogul Communications (retitled SS EXPERIMENT CAMP PART 2), but this heavily-edited version ran approximately 10 minutes shorter than VCP’s aforementioned version. In 2004, BEAST finally made its DVD debut courtesy of Media Blasters’ Exploitation Digital line, and while it looked good for the time, the interlaced transfer hasn’t dated very well. Extras were limited to an archive of promotional materials, a slightly reedited export trailer and, for the film’s first pressing, a liner notes booklet was included. 

Opening with THE BEAST IN HEAT’s grammatically incorrect English-language export title, HORRIFYING EXPERIMENTS OF S.S. LAST DAYS [sic!], Severin’s new Blu-ray is quite stunning to behold in its crystal-clarity, with nary a blemish in sight during much of the film’s newly-shot footage, or the rearranged scenes from Batzella’s earlier film, WHEN THE BELL TOLLS. However, the meagre production also made use of some additional stock footage from yet another unidentified, bigger-budget war film, which is in considerably rougher shape, so due to the film’s new transfer, this abrupt shift in picture quality is even more jarring than before. In an interesting comparison to Exploitation Digital’s earlier DVD, the initial demolition of the bridge and the climactic siege upon the Nazi compound utilized some cheap day-for-night blue filters, which are absent on Severin’s new transfer, and it actually looks the better for it. Regardless of the laughable English dub track, the DTS-HD MA mono audio sounds great given BEAST’s obvious post-production limitations. English SDH subtitles are also provided.

Along with their excellent transfer of the film, Severin have also provided a batch of worthwhile extras, beginning with Naomi Holwill’s feature-length documentary, Fascism On a Thread: The Strange Story of Nazisploitation Cinema (91m29s), which covers the genre’s rather curious origins, its obvious controversies and its short-lived history beginning with such masterworks as Luchino Visconti’s THE DAMNED (1969) and Liliana Cavani’s THE NIGHT PORTER (1974), and of course, that (quote) “weirdly influential trash movie” ILSA: SHE WOLF OF THE SS (1974), while film critic Kim Newman also points out the genre’s debt to the many (quote) “sensationalist 1950s paperbacks” on the theme as well. It’s a thorough, well-researched doc, which also includes newly-filmed and archival interviews with many of the films’ personnel. Next up, Stephen Thrower provides his thoughts on both the genre in general and BEAST in particular in Nazi Nasty (30m18s), whose primary motivation was to (quote) “shock and outrage jaded consumers”, and notes how Batzella’s film in particular is (quote) “genuinely, startlingly disgusting in many details”. He also points out the film’s sheer absurdity and describes its (quote) “bathos” as shocking, yet recognizes the memorable contributions of both Magall and “Sal Boris”, latter of whose suitably bestial and (quote) “unrestrained” performance is one of the most memorable aspects of the entire production; the influence of adult comic books (or fumetti in the Italian vernacular); and even the attempted – and subsequent failure – to successfully meld eroticism and horror into a moneymaking potpourri of sleazy sex-and-violence; and of course, he also goes on to discuss its release in the U.K. and the ensuing ‘Video Nasties’ outrage it garnered. Finishing-off the extras is BEAST’s lurid theatrical trailer (bearing the film’s French title card HOLOCAUSTE NAZI), which includes some alternate footage not seen in the main feature itself. In a nice added touch, Severin have also provided a reproduction of the film’s original Video Nasty cover art with the package.

As a film,THE BEAST IN HEAT may be cheap, crude, crass and tasteless, but Severin’s top-drawer Blu-ray presentation is anything but, a fact which should please most fans of boundary-pushing, scuzzed-out shock-erotica. Order it from Severin Films here or as part of their June Bundle, and for you Canadian readers, order it from Suspect Video.

THE PASSING - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Stitched-together and expanded to feature-length via a pair of the director’s pre-existing short films, John Huckert’s THE PASSING (1983) is precisely the kind of unusual and highly-compelling micro-budget discovery that fans of Vinegar Syndrome have grown accustomed to. As with Brian Damude’s must-have Canadian-lensed obscurity, the crime thriller SUDDEN FURY (1975), which they released last year, VS have once again provided another fantastic, extras-filled Blu-ray / DVD combo of the present atypical, science fiction-tinged film, which will hopefully warrant a looksee for anyone searching for something a little more esoteric, as opposed to just the same-old/same-old.

Elderly lifelong buds Ernie (James Carroll Plaster) and Rose (Welton Benjamin Johnson, playing a male character despite his traditionally female name) have been living together since the death of Ernie’s wife. While it’s never made abundantly clear, Rose may himself be dying, but has accepted his mortality with an equal amount of grace and melancholy. Ernie, on the other hand, tries his darnedest to ensure that the pair of them make the best of the rest of their lives; both these old guys know full-well that the end may be near and come without warning, however. Meanwhile, through a series of somewhat disconnected—at first disorienting—scenes involving Wade (director Huckert) and his family (including a rather startlingly graphic sexual assault on his onscreen wife), he winds up on Death Row for the accidental killing of his wife’s attacker. Despite the initial disjointed effect, these two disparate major plotlines do eventually intersect when Ernie is given the opportunity to participate in a new experimental procedure by means of his family doctor, whereas, rather than going to the gas chamber, condemned murderer Wade instead opts to take part in a heretofore-unknown experiment at a mysterious (fictional) institution known as the Maryland State Rejuvenation Center…

In spite of the narrative’s deliberately slow pacing, THE PASSING remains thoroughly engaging in its exploration of life and death… as well as reincarnation. Confounding at first—although both its gradually-comingling stories do come together in a logical manner eventually—the film frequently drifts into out-of-sequence flashbacks, generating a cryptic, verging-on-hypnotic aura over the course of the running time. The somewhat amateurish-if-earnest performances also add immensely to the proceedings, with principal performers James Carroll Plaster and Welton Benjamin Johnson as Ernie and Rose being especially memorable. Offering affecting psychological character studies that encompass love, loss, loneliness and the inexorable aging process from cradle to grave (“First thing you know, you’re 20. And now you’re 40. And then it just goes faster and faster!”), THE PASSING never becomes monotonously pretentious, even during some of its many tangential philosophical ruminations, while the scenes at the aptly-named Rejuvenation Center are spartanly sparse, displaying a highly-impersonal ambiance of cold, clinical sterility akin to some of David Cronenberg’s early works set in dehumanized, dystopian near-futures. 

Barely released theatrically, THE PASSING did receive a decidedly scant independent VHS videocassette release in the ’80s, then, in the early ’00s, budget-pack specialists Brentwood released it in no less than three separate, colourfully-titled box DVD sets, including Ancient Evil – 10 Movies, the dozen-pack Blood Soaked Cinema– Bite Night (“Twelve Times the Terror”!) and also Blood Thirst – 4 Movies. Given the film’s differing master print sources, VS succeeded in performing a mini-miracle bringing this long-passed-over rarity into the HD age with their newly-scanned 2K transfer taken from (quote) “16mm archival elements”. Shot and developed over a seven-and-a-half year period—how’s thatfor dedication!—utilizing recycled, reedited and newly-shot footage, things look surprisingly good in spite of the original celluloid’s numerous scratches, some occasional film jitter and what-have-you, but this is really nothing to quibble about at all, and the vibrant colour scheme during THE PASSING’s latter half really POPS off the screen upon occasion. The DTS-HD 1.0 mono audio track also sounds fine, with no real issues whatsoever, although it does sound a tad coarse and tinny whenever the score utilizes such hoary old ‘lo-fi’ 78rpm show-tunes as Ray Henderson’s classic “That Old Gang of Mine” (published by Irving Berlin, Inc. for The Ziegfeld Follies way back in 1923). 

The VS BD/DVD’s copious extras begin with a much-welcome audio commentary from director Huckert moderated by Tom Fitzgerald of EXP TV wherein they discuss the film’s still-humbler beginnings as The Water That is Passed, a short subject that probably best-resembles the finished feature it became. Director Huckert goes on to discuss his close relationship with principal actors Plaster and Johnson, as well as discussing Ernie and Rose, a second short film they made together, which likewise provided THE PASSING with still more additional footage to extend its running time; it’s also revealed how it was fellow Baltimore filmmaker John Waters—“The King of Trash” himself!—who suggested that Huckert might want to add some extra more-exploitable elements into his final product. It’s an interesting, relaxed and detailed discussion, that also includes plenty of anecdotes. Top marks all around! In Passing Time (22m31s), Cinema Arcana’s Bruce Holecheck interviews freelance DP Richard Chisolm, who discusses how he met director Huckert and producer Scott Guthrie and eventually got involved with the production. He describes Huckert as a (quote) “sensuous, dedicated filmmaker” and goes on to provide plenty of details about both the THE PASSING specifically as well as the Baltimore indie film scene of the time in general; reminiscences which include some of Chisolm’s later work (such as HBO’s much-lauded series THE WIRE [2002 – 2008]). In Water Under the Bridge (15m55s), writer and co-producer Mary Maruca is once again interviewed by Mr. Holecheck and reveals that John Huckert was one of her English students at the University of Maryland and was asked by him to co-write the screenplay, even though she playfully referred to herself as (quote) “such an ingénue”. She also speaks most highly of both Plaster and Johnson and their credible naturalism in front of the camera, discusses the stresses inherent in trying to shoot a film without any money, plus the (quote) “un-Godly amount of time it took to finish”. Like Chisolm, she also praises Huckert’s unwavering dedication to his pet project. 

In light of the film’s pieced-together structure, VS have also included Huckert’s short films in their entirety, including the aforementioned The Water That is Passed (27m50s, 1976), Quack (24m21s, 1976), Einmal (9m06s, 1979) and Ernie and Rose (28m48s, 1982). The extras conclude with a short-but-superb stills gallery (2m00s) of archive material. As per usual for VS, reversible artwork is also provided, while the first 2000 copies include a Limited Edition slipcover featuring artwork from Earl Kess, Jr. Order it from Vinegar Syndrome here.