THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Brought to life as a direct result of George A. Romero’s now-seminal NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968), Jorge “Jordi” Grau’s highly-atmospheric zombie shocker THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE (1974) is perhaps best known for its scenes of gruesome gut-crunching. And, like its primary source of inspiration, Grau also succeeds in generating a potent aura of claustrophobia and mounting paranoia, and it’s this atmosphere of unease—augmented by a bleakness and overlying sense of morbid dread that’s almost palpable—which remains one of its most memorable assets. Released under many alternate titles and in numerous different versions, THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE has been steadily available in several ‘special editions’ throughout the digital age thus far. However, the recent 3-disc Limited Edition Steelbook from those perfectionists at Synapse Films easily eclipses every single other release that preceded it. 

Ray Lovelock plays George, an art dealer from Manchester, England who is eager to escape the polluted and congested city for a weekend getaway in the country. While zipping through the English countryside on his big, fat, black Norton motorbike (with stylin’ leather biker jacket to match), by pure—if fateful—happenstance he crosses paths with Edna (Cristina Galbó) at a gas station. After she accidentally backs into his parked bike with her car, the understandably angry George coerces her into taking him the rest of the way to his final destination Windermere. However, the flighty Edna explain that she needs to get to the town of Southgate in order to visit her ill-and-ailing sister Katie (Jeannine Mestre) instead. After getting lost along the way, Ray and Edna stop to ask for directions at a farm, where the highly-opinionated George becomes openly critical of a new insect-exterminating gizmo the Department of Agriculture is testing, which uses low-level ultrasonic radiation as a potentially ‘eco-friendly’ alternative to conventional chemical pesticides. As George and Edna soon find out, however, this machine also ‘just happens’ to cause recently-deceased human corpses to rise from their graves and walk the earth anew… 

 

Still-topical in its ecological concerns, THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE is an upscale and highly engrossing Euro-horror from talented Spanish director Jorge Grau, who, a year earlier, had given us the equally-fascinating gothic horror film, THE LEGEND OF BLOOD CASTLE (a.k.a. BLOOD CEREMONY [1973]). Executed with great professionalism across the board, TLDAMM’s measured narrative takes it time to develop via a succession of believable dramatic interactions between its protagonists. In what is undoubtedly one of his most memorable leading roles, Ray Lovelock is excellent as George, the staunch—not to mention exceedingly frustrated and antsy!—eco-activist, who is viewed with surly distrust by most of the locals, as well as by Edna herself in the early stages of their unwitting ‘relationship’. As more and more people are besieged—and brutalized!—by the living dead, leaving a trail of mutilated corpses in their wake, George (thanks to the ever-fickle finger of Fate) falls victim to several unlucky coincidences. Much to his misfortune, he becomes inexorably caught up in the personal machinations of the detective assigned to the case, gruffly played by the great Arthur Kennedy. 

 

Much like in Romero’s NOTLD, the uglier side of human nature proves to be as big an obstacle to overcome as the living dead themselves. The short-sightedness of Kennedy’s character combined with George’s deep mistrust of the police (“The cops never like to admit they’re wrong!”) results in a number of clashes between the two men from opposite ends of the political spectrum. During one particularly heated moment, Kennedy relishes the opportunity to espouse his unfettered opinion about George and his ‘kind’ when he emphatically declares, “You’re all the same! The lot of you! With your long hair and faggot clothes! Drugs. Sex. Every sort of FILTH!” That said, as the order-barking dick of a detective, Kennedy is such a nasty, stubbornly vindictive character that you just hope he gets his much-deserved comeuppance sooner than later.

 

Shot almost entirely in England, give or take a few interiors lensed in Spain and Italy, TLDAMM makes the most of its beautiful authentic locales (including Castleton, Derbyshire, which stands in for most of the fictional town of Southgate), many of which are eerily-deserted, and this stark seeming under-population only adds to the impending horror. The opening sequence, which follows George on his motorcycle through the bustling streets of Manchester (including a busty female ‘streaker’ [that quaint social trend of the ’70s!] momentarily jiggling across the road between heavy traffic), initiates this interesting juxtaposition of encroaching industrialization. Set to composer Giuliano Sorgini’s excellent title theme “John Dalton Street,” Grau and his editor Vincenzo Tomassi effectively showcase a civilization teetering on the brink of environmental ruin, cross-cutting between the suffocating, garbage-strewn city streets and the lush open countryside. While NOTLD merely alluded vaguely to the origins of the zombie outbreak, Grau and his writers Sandro Continenza and Marcello Coscia herein directly blame unchecked technological advancement for detrimental effects on our natural ecosystem (“They tampered with nature, and now they must pay the price!” declared U.S. taglines). When George first encounters the aforementioned experimental prototype ‘ultrasonic bug-zapper’, which kills insects and parasites by attacking their nervous systems, he’s quick to dismiss it as “just another machine to pollute the Earth!” But nevertheless, as the film ends, humanity’s inevitable march towards ‘progress’ proves to be unrelenting and unstoppable...   

In addition, Grau's film includes several inventive (if unexplained) touches. Besides their unnerving, star-shaped and exceedingly bloodshot eyes, the living dead are also given an inexplicable ability to transmit ‘unlife’ to one another, which they do by dabbing the eyelids of their fellow dead with the blood of the living (i.e., that of their freshly-dead victims). As the film’s primary zombie (a recently-drowned tramp named Guthrie), Fernando Hilbeck fulfills much the same function as Bill Hinzman had in his infamous turn as the first zombie seen in NOTLD. Like Hinzman, Hilbeck’s imposing presence in the present film has also gone on to become iconic. Having earlier appeared in Narcisco Ibáñez Serrador’s superb THE HOUSE THAT SCREAMED (1969), pretty Spanish starlet Cristina Galbó (credited here as “Christine Galbo”) also adds immensely to the film as the understandably distraught Edna as she too witnesses the visceral violence perpetrated by the living dead. 

 

Meticulously photographed by Francisco Sempere, the DP’s work herein looks truly splendid on Synapse Films’ new Blu-ray, which boasts a stunningly sumptuous new 4K restoration taken from the original camera negative. Without going into too many specifics, the image is virtually flawless. Without compromising the film’s natural grain structure an iota, this new transfer is unparalleled in its clarity, with richer colours and deeper blacks; it’s all so impressive, you’ll never need (or want) to re-watch it in any other form! The disc provides two DTS-HD MA audio options, including the film’s original 2.0 mono track and a 5.1 remix, both of which, depending on your set-up, sound excellent, giving further prominence to Giuliano Sorgini’s memorable score and unsettling sound design.

 

Extras on Synapse’s disc commence with two separate audio commentaries, starting with author Troy Howarth, who has plenty to discuss. He gets underway with the film’s genesis, then goes into the significance of NOTLD on the genre, addresses TLDAMM’s still-prescient ecologically-conscious themes, as well as how the filmmakers went through a sort of (quote) “checklist” in order to ensure they had all the necessary commercial aspects covered. Howarth also provides an excellent primer on the once-problematic Spanish film industry under Generalisimo Francisco Franco’s (1892-1975) regime, Grau’s lengthy career, Kennedy’s sojourn within European cinema, and much more, making for a well-informed and thoroughly engaging commentary. For the second audio commentary, Cinema Arcana’s Bruce Holecheck and Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson provide another of their highly-entertaining discussions, which is crammed chock-a-block with tons of invaluable info, plus several fascinating anecdotes too. Both participants are eager to point out that Grau’s film is one of (quote) “the high points of European horror,” then proceed to enthusiastically discuss TLDAMM’s (quote) “surreal, dreamlike quality,” its unique locations, Sorgini’s impressive sound design, the superb cast, special make-up effects artist Gianetto De Rossi, and also some of Grau’s other work, including his vastly-underrated rape/revenge shocker CODE OF HUNTING (1983), as well as his extremely misleadingly-titled crime drama VIOLENT BLOOD BATH (1972). A great listen all round, indeed!

 

Unfortunately, a trio of featurettes (including the great location doc Back to the Morgue) from Blue Underground’s 2009 Blu-ray have not been carried-over on Synapse’s new disc. Making up for that, they have included several other new extras instead. In the first, Catalonia’s King of Cult (88m58s), Jorge Grau gives a career-spanning interview, most of which (natch!) focuses on this his living dead opus. The doc also includes observations on the film from Kim Newman, Rachael Nisbet, John Martin and others. In the following extras, beginning with Scene of the Crime (15m24s), Eugenio Ercolani interviews special makeup-man Gianetto De Rossi, wherein he discusses his (quote) “perfect artistic relationship” with director Grau, his thoughts and apprehension regarding ‘eyeball violence’ in such films as Lucio Fulci’s ZOMBIE (1979), and his opinions (“Fuck! What I am doing!?”) about his gruesome work on Joe D’Amato’s EMANUELLE IN AMERICA (1976). In the final extra, Ercolani is once again on hand to moderate a very lively Q&A with De Rossi at the (fittingly enough!) Manchester Festival of Fantastic Films (44m29s). In it, they relate interesting—and at times hilarious—stories centered around De Rossi’s time working within the U.S. film industry, his contributions to Fabrizio De Angelis’ KILLER CROCODILE (1989) and its woeful sequel, plus his unexpected return to the fore with Alexandre Aja’s HIGH TENSION (2003). The film’s cool European trailer and an assortment of TV and radio spots conclude the extras.

 

Enclosed in an eye-catching Steelbook featuring original cover art by Wes Benscoter (the package comes inside a slipcover illustrated with some of the promotional artwork used on TLDAMM’s foreign releases), this exemplary set also includes a DVD copy of the Blu-ray as well as a 15-track (29m59s) soundtrack CD of Sorgini’s memorable score. An 8-page booklet with an essay from Nicholas G. Schlegel, Ph.D., and extensive restoration notes from Synapse’s very own Don May, Jr. is also included, as is a poster reproduction of Benscoter’s artwork. As greatly appreciated as the beautiful packaging is, though, it’s Synapse’s superior restoration, which goes far above and beyond all usual expectations, that makes their edition of this Euro-horror gem one of the year’s absolute finest releases! Order it from Synapse Films or DiabolikDVD. 

AMERICAN RICKSHAW - BLU-RAY REVIEW

“Miami just got hotter...” Academy Entertainment’s humdrum tagline for their 1991 VHS videocassette.

Released directly to U.S. videotape as AMERICAN TIGER during the early ’Nineties, this movie was readily available as commonplace ‘shelf-filler’ in most North American video stores. However, Sergio Martino’s AMERICAN RICKSHAW (1989) is anything but conventional. One of the loopier and truly unforgettable Italian films you’re ever likely to encounter, Martino’s genre mash-up now makes its North American HD debut thanks to a new specialty label on the block, Cauldron Films.

 

As he tries to get through college, Scott Edwards (Mitch Gaylord) ekes-out a living as a part-time rickshaw runner in the affluent Miami, Florida suburb of Coconut Grove. But his life is turned completely upside down when one of his fares, a slinky red-headed stripper named Joanna (Victoria Prouty), tricks him into making a sex tape aboard Jason Mortom’s (Gregg Todd Davis) swanky boat. In his haste to get off the boat, Scott gets into a fight with Jason and inadvertently steals the wrong videotape. Unaware that Jason is the son of a famous and influential TV evangelist named Reverend Mortom (Donald Pleasence), this sudden mix-up sets-off an utterly bizarre chain of events that jams together Chinese mysticism, an old witch, a megalomaniacal preacher, a seemingly unstoppable hitman, a ghostly Siamese cat and a hissing cobra snake, the last of which safeguards our frequently-confused hero. 

 

AMERICAN RICKSHAW is a tantalizingly engaging bit of Italian hokum, that no simple synopsis of its plot can adequately convey. Still, despite the ridiculous, anything-goes premise, it all works surprisingly well, given the usual by-the-numbers approach of most Italian exploitation movies during the late ’Eighties and beyond. Check out Umberto Lenzi’s generic crime actioner COP TARGET (1990)—or better (i.e., worse) yet, Bruno Mattei’s hilariously out-of-whack COP GAME (1988)!—for further confirmation of the rapidly declining state of Italy’s commercial cinema at the time. The opening sequence of AR is a particularly oddball attention-grabber: vividly shot in super-slow-motion during a sudden torrential downpour, Scott picks up Madame Moon (Michi Kobi), a frail old Chinese lady who becomes instantly enamored with his gallantry (and his tiger tank-top!). Later, when Scott gets embroiled in a possible murder rap and Reverend Mortom unleashes a black-clad hitman (Daniel Greene) to dispose of him, Madame Moon and her exotic ‘guardians’ watch over him during a succession of wacky encounters. Despite making very little sense whatsoever, the story largely revolves around a mysterious (quote) “stone of evil in the shape of an ugly boar”, which everyone is clamoring to get their hands on. However, thanks mainly to Martino’s energetic direction, Giancarlo Ferrando’s solid camerawork and Eugenio Alabiso’s offbeat cutting, the, um, ‘eccentric’ narrative moves at a satisfying clip while conjuring-up a strange, verging-on-surreal atmosphere.

 

Following his lead in Albert Magnoli’s AMERICAN ANTHEM (1986), ex-U.S. Team Olympic gymnast Mitch Gaylord commits himself with the proper panache required of the role, while the alluring Prouty also fares fairly well, given her one-dimensional part’s lack of substance. In contrast, in one of the film’s more pivotal roles, Martino alumnus Daniel Greene plays the deadly hitman with cool detachment, adding extra dynamism to much of the film. Although his screen time is limited, Donald Pleasence is memorably over-the-top (even more so than usual!) as the swaggering preacher who displays less regard for the sanctity of human life than a Florida gator. Whether it was a deliberate stylistic choice or not, his southern accent veers around wildly throughout, which only adds to the film’s schizophrenic nature; a fact best exemplified in the head-scratching, eye-popping finale.

 

Presented here in a brand new 2K transfer taken from the original 35mm camera negative, Cauldron Films’ Blu-ray looks superb, with excellent detail and colour-saturation throughout, which brings out all the retro ‘Nineties kitsch on display. Compared to Austrian Cinestrange Extreme’s earlier Blu-ray, which featured some digital noise-reduction tinkering and a slightly different colour scheme, Cauldron’s new edition is a noticeable improvement in every way. The LPCM English mono track also sounds well-balanced and quite lively. In addition, the disc includes English SDH subtitles.

 

Kat Ellinger, author of All the Colours of Sergio Martino (Arrow, 2018), and writer and film critic Samm Deighan take part in an audio commentary wherein they share their adoration for Martino’s (quote) “joyful, gleeful and entertaining film.” They have plenty to say about the film itself, including regarding many of its (quote) “confusing plot points” and the (quote) “constant madness” that unreels on the screen. Of course, they also discuss Martino’s varied career at great length, including how he frequently broke conventions and just how (quote) “adaptable” he is as a director, even when working in the United States. They also talk about much of the film’s cast and crew, including prolific if rarely-discussed makeup effects man Rosario Prestopino. A long-time veteran of the Italian film industry (he also lent his talents to such Italian gut-crunchers as BURIAL GROUND and DOCTOR BUTCHER M.D. [both 1980]), Prestopino provides some brief-but-effective gore effects herein.  

 

Eugenio Ercolani’s interview with Sergio Martino and production designer Massimo Antonello Geleng (18m30s), which first appeared on Cinestrange’s BD, is thankfully ported-over onto Cauldron’s disc. Focusing on his early beginnings, Martino discusses how he entered the film industry, as well as the financial crisis that adversely affected Italian film production during the ’Eighties. He also relates his experiences working on AR and opines how American crews lack an ability to improvise on set. Geleng, a prolific production designer, speaks warmly about Martino and his versatility as a director, equating him with a (quote) “orchestral conductor.” In the next significant extra, an entire episode of Mike White’s The Projection Booth (65m30s) dedicates their full show to Martino’s (quote) “bonkers” film. Guests include Cullen Gallagher and Kat Ellinger, both of whom delve into AR’s nuttier aspects in what turns out to be a detailed and delightful look at its numerous endearing qualities. Extras conclude with the brief Miami: Now and Then(2m52s) location tour, plus a thorough image gallery (1m04s) that showcases much of the film’s promotional artwork and various videotape releases from around the world. Cauldron’s original Limited Edition pressing also includes a colourful 8-page booklet of liner notes with an essay from David Zuzelo, as well as a nice sturdy slipcover. 

 

Unlike anything else in his extensive and diverse filmography, Cauldron Films have given Sergio Martino’s colourfully outrageous AMERICAN RICKSHAW a first-rate HD presentation, which, of course, comes highly recommended! Pre-order the standard edition here. 

DEMONIA - BLU-RAY REVIEW

With minimal variations, the basic plot of Lucio Fulci’s DEMONIA (1990) is pretty much interchangeable with most of the director’s first modern-day gothic horror films from the early ’Eighties. Films such as CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (1980) and THE BEYOND (1981) are aped for ideas in an attempt to reinvigorate signor Fulci’s sagging career. While DEMONIA is less ambitious, it does at least still possess some flashes of style and imagination, which is far better displayed via Severin Films’ superb new Blu-ray.

Sicily, 1486: a group of devil-worshiping nuns is attacked and then crucified by angry townsfolk in the catacombs below their monastery. Moving forward to Toronto circa 1990, a young adept named Liza (Meg Register) has a violent premonition and faints during a séance. After cautioning her about participating in these silly activities, she and Professor Evans (Brett Halsey) leave for Sicily and there meet up with a team of archeologists in Santa Rosalia, the very same town from the opening. Of course, the residents take none-too-kindly to these intruding outsiders, who promise (quote) “the worst is yet to come”—especially after Liza begins poking-around at the old accursed monastery... 

 

Although blandly-earnest female lead Meg Register is certainly no Catriona MacColl (matchless Italo scream queen and star of Fulci’s gothic triptych CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, THE BEYOND and THE HOUSE BY THE CEMETERY [1981]), much of DEMONIA’s narrative takes great pains in attempting to emulate the atmosphere of those particular Fulci classics. With its languid pacing, dreamlike flashbacks, superstitious townspeople, and a heroine who seems to be in a continuous state of distress, this latter-day Fulci effort does nevertheless still manage to conjure-up a rather uncomfortable ambiance. In view of its less-than-exorbitant budget, DEMONIA is bolstered by a number of spacious and impressive Sicilian locations, which add considerable value to the production. Real-life crypts and catacombs are utilized to fine effect between the multitude of gory, garishly-lit set-pieces. These include one of the villagers having his tongue nailed to a butcher’s block, and, in what many fans consider to be the pièce de résistance, another man is vividly torn in half. Unfortunately, one of the film’s biggest detractors is Giovanni Cristiani’s lackluster score, which does very little – if anything, quite frankly – to enhance the onscreen action. 

 

Following his rather outlandish roles in Fulci’s S/M psychodrama THE DEVIL’S HONEY (1986) and his gory, darkly comedic take on the Bluebeard folktale, TOUCH OF DEATH (1988), this was to be Brett Halsey’s final appearance in a Fulci film (not counting his ‘repurposed’ scenes in Fulci’s A CAT IN THE BRAIN [1990], for which the actor never received payment). Beyond his skeptical character’s calculated defiance of the supernatural, Halsey, despite being DEMONIA’s name-value American star, is sadly given very little to do. Still, when Dr. Porter (Al Cliver), one of his former colleagues, turns up dead, a wholly-unnecessary subplot emerges when Halsey becomes a potential prime suspect in the eyes of local carabinieri. As ‘The butcher of Santa Rosalia’, Lino Salemme, a familiar  character actor, is suitably over-the-top in his efforts to ward-off uninvited outsiders. Continually scowling and treating everyone with scorn, Salemme amounts to one of the film’s numerous memorable highlights. Lucio Fulci, meanwhile, allots himself a larger-than-normal supporting part as an inquisitive police inspector.

 

While it was initially intended for theatrical exhibition, the film’s litany of production woes resulted in it going straight-to-video instead. Most English-speaking viewers first caught the film via Nikkatsu’s VHS videocassette from Japan, a nice-looking transfer for the time (English-dubbed, but with burnt-in Japanese subs) that also retained the film’s original 1.66:1 aspect ratio. This edition remained the gold standard throughout the ’Nineties until, in 2001, Media Blasters inaugurated their Shriek Show line with the DEMONIA’s first-ever official North American DVD. Although a welcome release, Shriek Show’s disc did leave plenty of room for improvement, but fans would have to wait another nearly twenty years for Severin Films’ new Blu-ray. Well worth the wait, their new disc shows off a brand-new 4K scan taken from the film’s original camera negative, which features far more pictorial and audio detail than any previous home video incarnation. Luigi Ciccarese’s somewhat problematic cinematography, which features several over-exposed scenes and is inundated with a general haze for much of the film, likewise fares much better on Severin’s disc. For anyone put-off by the awkward English dubbing (prolific voice talent artist Ted Rusoff dubs at least three [!] different characters), Severin has also included the film’s Italian audio, with optional English subtitles. Sounding altogether more fluent, the Italian audio also consists of some alternate music cues, for those who care. Both audio options are DTS-HD master audio 2.0 mono tracks and sound equally good, so it comes down to personal preference on which option to choose.

 

The copious extras begin with a superb, highly-detailed audio commentary from Stephen Thrower, author of Beyond Terror: The Films of Lucio Fulci (FAB Press, 2018). He thoroughly discusses the production and its many connections to his earlier, more successful films and its many unique, picturesque Sicilian locations. To help give DEMONIA’s opening sequence some historical context, Thrower provides a brief history of the Spanish Inquisition. He also points out many of the inherent flaws, including some of the poorly-executed special effects that you just have to (quote) “roll with”, given the inadequate budget. Exhaustive background info on many cast and crew and some of the film’s odd stylistic choices are also discussed at length. A real highlight, indeed. Mr. Thrower’s work herein comes highly-recommended, which not only sheds light on the present film but on Fulci’s career at a time when Italian exploitation movies were steadily losing their box office luster. 

 

Severin has also included two newly-produced docs, beginning with Holy Demons (33m17s), an interview with uncredited screenwriter and assistant director Antonio Tentori. Appearing via Skype (due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic), he talks about his long relationship with Fulci, which began when the director appeared as a guest on Tentori’s entertainment and culture show on Radio 2 Rai, which eventually led to his first opportunity within the film industry. Of course, Mr. Tentori also talks about his experiences working with Fulci on DEMONIA and its many production woes, the authentic locations, and inherent potential. In Of Skull and Bones (14m59s), camera operator Sandro Grossi discusses his start in the business and how he came about collaborating with Fulci, whom he affably refers to as a (quote) “bulldozer”. Fulci Lives! (4m29s), a VHS-shot interview (that originally appeared on the aforementioned Shriek Show disc) from the DEMONIA set and the film’s trailer (1m05s) conclude the extras. The Severin edition’s first pressing (limited to 2000 copies) came in a collectible slipcover, which has since sold out.

 

Regardless of DEMONIA’s many flaws as a film, Severin’s major upgrade of it on BD makes for an altogether more satisfying viewing experience. Needless to say, it comes highly recommended! Order it from Severin here.  

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.