ATLRetro

by Anthony Taylor
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

THE SUNDAY WOMAN (La Donna Della Domenica) – 1975 Limited Edition
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Marcello Mastroianni, Jacqueline Bisset , Jean-Louis Trintignant
Director: Luigi Comencini
Rated: Not Rated
Studio: Radiance Films
Region: A
BRD Release Date: 05/02/2023
Audio Formats: Italian: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono with English subtitles
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD from new 2K Master
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1, 1.85:1
Run Time: 109 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

Luigi Comencini’s THE SUNDAY WOMAN presents itself as many things to the viewer, the most often singled out of which is “giallo,” a title that refers to the Italian stalking-murderer-wearing-black-gloves style mystery genre of which the early 1970s cineastes were so fond. However, it seems least of all a gialli (the singular) and more an exercise in determinance of how art affects the small slice of society presented as a cross section of Turin, and just how effective art can be as a weapon. Specifically, in this case, the large and heavy terra-cotta phallus sculpture that the killer uses in committing acts of violence.

In fact, the film seems quite determined to examine all facets of artistic influence on its characters. The first victim is a degenerate but well-known architect, Garrone (he is almost always referred to in dialog as, “the architect Garrone”) played by Claudio Gora. His death sparks an investigation by police commissioner Santamaria (Mastroianni), which leads him to ennui-filled housewife Anna Carla Dosio, played by Jacqueline Bisset. The two, of course, trade sideways glances while Santamaria begins to dig further and pursues Dosio’s friend Massimo Campi (Trintignant), who mostly just wishes to hush up a homosexual affair and spit witty insults. What a cast, huh?

Through a combination of humor and grotesquery, Comencini reveals a layered group of characters, all of whom are capable of razor-sharp self-defense in terms of dialog, but vulnerable by emotional damage. The investigation revolves around – wait for it – yet another objet dé art, an artifact of historical importance attached to a local property, which is never truly endowed with enough value to justify the murders. Art then is relegated as the McGuffin, the murder weapon, (perhaps even the murders themselves) and the prevailing currency throughout the narrative. It is valued, de-valued and personified as a character unto itself, maintaining a role greater than any of the film’s stars (or plot).

The screenplay by Carlo Fruttero, Franco Lucentini and Agenore Incrocci crackles with dialog that runs from witty to perceptive to obtuse yet poignant, and stands out as a reason the cast of heavyweights may have been attracted to the project. Again, the plot isn’t really the point here, but it does circle back around to make sense in a rudimentary fashion. Come for the walky, stay for talky – even though it’s presented in Italian with English subtitles. I have to say that whoever translated the dialog did a great job in preserving the spirit of the original Italian – there were moments when I laughed out loud (they were brief, don’t judge me). As good as facets of the movie are, ultimately as a murder mystery, it’s an amusing view of how society divides and unites us in times of extreme stress and boredom.

Radiance Films’ presentation of THE SUNDAY WOMAN is sourced from a brand new 2K transfer and looks great. No visible damage or artifacts were apparent in either of the aspect ratios presented. I preferred 1:85.1 (the original), but the 1:33.1 (the aspect ratio for television at the time) does seem to have a bit more original picture top to bottom. Audio was richly mixed, highlighting Ennio Morricone’s disappointing score. You know how when, for instance, Elmer Bernstein  might not quite have lived up to expectations for a film but it was still a Bernstein score? Yeah, this wasn’t that.

Bonus materials with the disc include a newly filmed interview with academic and Italian cinema expert Richard Dyer; an archival interview with cinematographer Luciano Tovoli ; a newly filmed interview with academic and screenwriter Giacomo Scarpelli, who discusses the life and work of his father, Furio Scarpelli and his writing partner Agenore Incrocci; an archival French TV interview with Jean-Louis Trintignant; a reversible sleeve featuring designs based on original posters; and, a limited-edition 24-page booklet featuring new writing on the film by Mariangela Sansone and a reprint of an archival piece on the film. The disc is limited to 2000 copies.

THE SUNDAY WOMAN will be challenging for some viewers, but worth the investment. It would have been a wonderful addition to include an archival English dub, if one exists, but it’s certainly not worth creating a new one – the subtitles were fine.

 

Anthony Taylor is not only the Minister of Science, but also Defender of the Faith. His reviews and articles have appeared in magazines such as Screem, Fangoria, Retro Fan, Famous Monsters of Filmland, SFX, Video WatcH*Dog, and many more.

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

Lucas Hardwick
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

YAKUZA GRAVEYARD – 1976
5 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Tetsuya Watari, Meiko Kaji, Tatsuo Umemiya, Kei Satô, Hideo Murota
Director: Kinji Fukasaku
Rated: Not Rated
Studio: Radiance Films
Region: All
BRD Release Date: May 15, 2023
Audio Formats: Japanese: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC (27.00 Mbps)
Resolution: 1080p
Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
Run Time: 97 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

Post World War II Japanese films, for the most part, either deal with Japan’s response to how that war ended for the country (Kaiju films for example), the nation’s relationship with its history of isolation (period Samurai films), or are heavily influenced by western filmmakers (Kurosawa films). What’s not so accessible are the films that contend with Japan’s more contemporary internal turmoil in the form of the often complicated and always violent yakuza films.

At the outset, it’s easy to equate yakuza with what we know about western gangsters and the mafia, but yakuza are a little more complex than those more traditional institutions. Yakuza’s origins date back to the mid-Edo period (1603-1868) and at that time, it was partitioned into two groups: tekiya who often peddled stolen goods, and bakuto who were notorious for their involvement in gambling. Later, the tekiya clans began participating in everyday commerce and would be formally recognized by the Edo government. The bakuto clans that consisted of much lower social classes would become more infamous for their association with illegal gambling.

To comprehend the dynamic of the relationships and unrest between the yakuza and the Japanese authorities in Kinji Fukasaku’s 1976 film YAKUZA GRAVEYARD, it’s important to understand the connection Japan has with these organizations. Yakuza consists mostly of lower financial and social class individuals, many of them of Korean and Chinese descent. Also, the legally gray status enjoyed by yakuza establishes a perplexing foundation that underscores the contentious circumstances amongst clans within the institution itself, its members, and the Japanese administration.

Fukasaku’s YAKUZA GRAVEYARD employs the organization’s vast and muddled history to its fullest extent, involving all the aforementioned conflicting elements that make the yakuza a rich, diverse venue for terrific and troubling character studies. While the plot of the film is incredibly dense and nearly impossible to keep up with – moving at a breakneck pace – the story centers on police detective Kuroiwa (Tetsuya Watari) who is caught between two warring clans: one in a weakened state and the other with connections to his police bosses. Kuroiwa, who is of Manchurian descent, is also haunted by his past in the form of a prostitute who he’s beholden to after having killed her pimp.

Relationships become even more fluid and problematic when Kuroiwa makes friends with the Nishida clan’s full-blooded Korean, Iwata (Tatsuo Umemiya), and a romantic connection with half-Korean Keiko (Meiko Kaji), a.k.a. Lady Snowblood), the wife of an imprisoned Nishida boss. On the work side of things, Lieutenant Hideaka (Hideo Murota), an old friend of Kuroiwa’s, becomes the detective’s direct supervisor, reporting to the police chief who has ties to the opposing Yamashiro family. Making matters even more volatile, Hideaka applies the pressure to Kuroiwa when it comes to undoing his new Nishida clan friends. All of this occurs inside an hour and a half with an ass-beating happening about every five minutes.

The story is quite a bit to process, but viewers needn’t fret too much about that. This tale is all about the emotional beats. The plot unfolds in the grim, brooding performances of Tetsuya Watari and Meiko Kaji as they react to a world closing in on them with fewer and fewer places to maintain their loyalty. Being outsiders themselves, Kuroiwa and Keiko long to have a place to belong to, but with a police force that betrays not only Kuroiwa himself but also allies with the opposing clan of the one he’s become so close to, and Keiko being rejected by her imprisoned husband, the two find they only have each other to turn to.

YAKUZA GRAVEYARD is less about the mechanics of loyalty and betrayal and the brutal violence begat by those institutions, and ultimately about what allegiance means to a sector of minorities who only ever sought to be part of something. It’s a surprisingly tragic tale of a group of people that have otherwise always been considered interloping and unworthy of inclusion into broader society, and at every turn they take to belong to something—whether it be their job, their family, their marriage, or the very nation they live in—they are once again abandoned.

The violence in Fukasaku’s film arrives at regular intervals and typically in the form of good old fashioned unapologetically unchoreographed beatings that play almost cathartic to the dirty dealings happening between those brutal moments. Fukasaku’s handheld visual approach amplifies the knuckle-busting action and comes across as a release from, and a parallel to the anxiety felt by many of the film’s characters.

The world of the yakuza is familiar turf for director Fukasaku. Just a few years prior to YAKUZA GRAVEYARD, the filmmaker was responsible for the five films that make up the BATTLES WITHOUT HONOR AND HUMANITY series that chronicles real stories of the yakuza adapted from newspaper articles. Those movies, along with YAKUZA GRAVEYARD, are in the tradition of the “true account” films from Japan that are based on real events.

Radiance Films presents YAKUZA GRAVEYARD in high definition on Blu-ray Disc. This limited edition release includes an interview with Japanese filmmaker Kazuya Shiraishi, The Rage and the Passion—a visual essay by critic Tom Mes, a promotional image gallery, and a 32-page booklet featuring writing from Mika Ko on the representation of Koreans in the yakuza film, and newly translated writing from the film’s screenwriter Kazuo Kasahara.

YAKUZA GRAVEYARD is a difficult story to connect with, not only because of how steeped it is in a very niche sector of modern Japanese urban culture, but also because of the pace at which it’s delivered. Clearly a film made almost exclusively for Japanese audiences, beneath the surface is a fundamental search for belonging that we can all relate to and sympathize with, and to get us there relies on our own understanding of human emotions. Highly recommended.

 

 

When he’s not working as a Sasquatch stand-in for sleazy European films, Lucas Hardwick spends time writing film essays and reviews for We Belong Dead and Screem magazines. Lucas also enjoys writing horror shorts and has earned Quarterfinalist status in the Killer Shorts and HorrOrigins screenwriting contests. You can find Lucas’ shorts on Coverfly.

By Lucas Hardwick
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

CREEPING HORROR – 1933 – 1946
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Lionel Atwill, Randolph Scott, Charlie Ruggles, Rondo Hatton, Bela Lugosi, Dick Foran, Robert Lowery, Virginia Grey, Fay Helm, Leo Carrillo
Director: A. Edward Sutherland, Ford Beebe, George Waggner, Jean Yarbrough
Rated: Not rated
Studio: Eureka Entertainment
Region: BBFC: 12
BRD Release Date: April 17, 2023
Audio Formats: English: LPCM 2.0 Mono (48kHz, 24-bit)
Video Codec: Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1
Run Time: 263 minutes total runtime
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

MURDERS IN THE ZOO – 1933

You can turn on your TV to just about any channel today and hand pick your brand of depravity. Almost anything goes on basic cable and network TV isn’t far behind. But there was a time in entertainment when torture and wild animals was as shocking as the first bare ass on NYPD Blue. Of course, I’m talking about those rascally edge lords of pre-code Hollywood, where filmmakers worked relatively regulation-free in a cinematic Wild West.

And in the case of Eureka Entertainment’s CREEPING HORROR collection, the first film in the lineup is the pre-code 1933 film MURDERS IN THE ZOO, which opens with a man being hog-tied and having his mouth sewn shut for making out with the wife of wealthy big-game hunter Eric Gorman (Lionel Atwill). And when Gorman isn’t grinding an axe over other men making eyes at his wife Evelyn (Kathleen Burke), he’s in the business of being the sole curator of a struggling zoo, bringing in his big game specimens for exhibition.

The zoo’s press agent Peter Yates (Charlie Ruggles) collaborates with Gorman to host a fundraising dinner where the local money can come and dine in the zoo surrounded by exhibits. The zoo’s new highly venomous mamba specimen is all the talk and works out conveniently for Gorman as he plots the murder of his wife’s latest fling, rich guy Roger Hewitt (John Lodge). Gorman secretly acquires the deadly mamba venom from zoo veterinarian Dr. Jack Woodford (Randolph Scott), and when Roger turns up dead at the fundraiser with a leg full of mamba venom, not a soul is the wiser; that is until Evelyn discovers the weird snakehead device in her husband’s office that leads Dr. Woodford to perform some astute detective work. It’s not long before everyone starts putting the pieces together about poor Mr. Hewitt’s demise.

The film clips along at a feverish pace, never really giving anyone time to ponder for very long about exactly how Gorman used his little snakehead device to kill Hewitt. Instead, MURDERS IN THE ZOO is more occupied with being wrapped up in its frantic narrative that will have hearts racing up to the feature’s final moments. The film’s pre-code tendencies also amp up the excitement, subverting any ideas we have about the quaintness of early filmmaking.

Randolph Scott’s Dr. Woodford is basically the hero of the film, but he’s about as much fun as a snakebite. However, very little could ever compete with Atwill’s abusive and squirmy performance as “third rail” guy Eric Gorman.

Pre-code Hollywood films always deliver some grisly goods typically with some violating sexual tension up to and including brief nudity as well as most likely the unethical use of exotic animals. It makes for some damn thrilling entertainment and not necessarily for what’s happening narratively, but in a “hold my beer” kind of way. The titillation of pre-code movies is in the unsavory things that would eventually come to be censored. If you cut out the horrific opening, Gorman’s lack of “Me Too” awareness, and the alligator feeding that drives the plot along, you don’t have much of a movie left.

MURDERS IN THE ZOO has just enough of a humorous streak to keep things light, and just enough shock to feel dangerous, making for easy thrills that let you go on about your day.

 

NIGHT MONSTER – 1942

Italian giallo films are some of the very best instances of the old red herring trope. When they’re done right, you’ll never guess who the killer is, and the killer is almost always the person sitting in a wheelchair for the entire film. Throw in a lecherous, hulking limo driver, a creepy butler, a ghoulish gatekeeper, and a Middle Eastern mystic who can telepathically teleport dead bodies from the other side of the world, and the line between Universal horror and Italian giallo gets a little fuzzy. The difference here in Ford Beebe’s 1942 film NIGHT MONSTER is, it’s learned doctors who are turning up dead instead of pretty Italian girls.

NIGHT MONSTER packs a gothic estate full of colorful characters in what essentially amounts to a remake of the 1932 Warner Bros. horror classic DOCTOR X. In the film, the affluent and paraplegic Curt Ingston (Ralph Morgan) invites his team of doctors to his home to demonstrate a new exotic treatment that could allow him to walk once again. These unconventional methods are performed by the mysterious Agar Singh (Nils Asther) who falls into a trance and conjures a skeleton from a grave on the far side of the world. Singh suggests Ingston could employ these methods to eventually cure his paralysis.

In the meantime, Ingston’s nutty sister Margaret (Fay Helm) is seeing blood all over the house and blaming it all on unpleasant housekeeper Miss Judd (Doris Lloyd) while dead bodies are showing up at the nearby swamp; the scenario is not a good look for butler Rolf (Bela Lugosi) who spends most of his time slinking around the house and being nasty to the rest of the staff.

NIGHT MONSTER is a story that can’t help but be disjointed as it becomes a victim of its own convoluted plot. It may be hard to follow, but it’s important to trust your instincts—in spite of what it tries to tell you, you’ve likely guessed the killer by the second act. But regardless of its numerous characters and rambling structure, the film is soberly self-aware, making it the most fascinating and entertaining film in this set.

Bela Lugosi and Lionel Atwill get top billing, but don’t be fooled—their roles are mostly incidental and only briefly divert our suspicions. The cast overall seems charged with an angry, paranoid energy that goes against the fact that we’ve already guessed the killer at this point, but they fulfill their roles implicitly, holding true to the film’s spirit of mystery.

Films like this are always a pleasant surprise, and being one of the lesser Universal horror films, there’s no time like the present for audiences to discover or rediscover NIGHT MONSTER in all its deranged glory.

 

HORROR ISLAND – 1941

The old saying goes that a one-legged man knows the shortest distance between two places, and it’s peg-legged Tobias Clump (Leo Carrillo) who is the key to the fastest way between sailor Bill Martin (Dick Foran) and a twenty-million-dollar treasure in George Waggner’s 194 film HORROR ISLAND.

 Clump is rescued from drowning by Martin and his business partner “Stuff” Oliver (Fuzzy Knight) after being shoved into the ocean by a man known as The Phantom (Foy Van Dolsen) who’s been lurking about the local docks. Clump is in possession of a portion of a map that possibly leads to a hidden fortune that once belonged to notorious buccaneer Sir Henry Morgan. And Morgan’s treasure just so happens to be located in a castle on an island inherited by Martin, called “Morgan’s Island.”

After rejecting a twenty thousand dollar offer from his cousin George (John Eldredge) to purchase the island, Martin exercises his entrepreneurial spirit and concocts a plan to assemble an ensemble of treasure hunters at fifty bucks a pop to buy in to venture to the island and uncover Morgan’s riches. The Phantom man in tow becomes public enemy number one as bodies begin piling up upon arrival to Martin’s abandoned gothic abode.

The story culminates into the typical “old dark house” scenario as cast members begin dropping like flies leaving those who remain scratching their heads. Obviously The Phantom is the prime suspect, but no one really gets more than a glimpse of him. Just because a guy wants to run around in a black cloak and wide-brimmed hat may just make him stylish. It’s important to take stock of everyone’s reasons for being there in the first place: dirty pirate treasure. A number of red herrings throw Martin and company off the trail; including a sleepwalking professor and peg-leg tracks out in the yard that divert murderous blame to other members of the group.

HORROR ISLAND is certainly an exciting film, especially executed so efficiently within a brisk sixty-minute window, but the excitement falls tepid as reactions to dead bodies are consistently met with about as much concern as someone might have to finding a dead mouse. The lack of fright from the characters don’t exactly instill much fear in the rest of us murder mongers.

The big reveal comes as a bit of a surprise, but at that point, we’re no longer worried about anyone, and we’re just glad to be closing in on that sixty-minute mark.

Writers Maurice Tombragel and Victor McLeod inject a good amount of humor into the film, imbuing the narrative with a sense of farce that plays to the actors’ chemistries but there is almost no foreboding presence about the film. People are murdered and everyone goes about the business at hand.

HORROR ISLAND is no-pressure, light-hearted fun that borrows horror tropes to do almost nothing with them. While enjoyable and energetic, audiences shouldn’t expect anything more than sub-par Abbott and Costello business.

 

HOUSE OF HORRORS – 1946

Eureka’s final film in the CREEPING HOROR set is arguably the most ambitious in terms of attempting to stake a claim amongst the likes of DRACULA and FRANKENSTEIN. Jean Yarbrough’s 1946 feature film HOUSE OF HORRORS sets up Rondo Hatton as The Creeper in what was supposed to be the character’s introduction for a series of films to fall in line with Universal’s legacy horror figures.

In the film, sculptor Marcel De Lange (Martin Kosleck) discovers Hatton’s Creeper floating in a river as the artist contemplates suicide upon having his recent expressionistic work coldly rejected by the big-time newspaper art critic F. Holmes Harmon (Alan Napier). De Lange laments to The Creeper about being at the mercy of critics like Harmon and expresses his desire to see the man be forced off this mortal coil. De Lange is also so taken with Hatton’s strangely striking visage, and commits to creating a larger than life-sized sculpt of the afflicted man. And as any murderous art subject is wont to do, The Creeper returns the favor by exacting De Lange’s death wishes on the local art critics that have made the lives of artists like himself and advertising creator Steve Morrow’s (Robert Lowery) a living hell.

From here, the film is basically a whodunit that the audience knows the answer to. Viewers will likely find the most thrills in the suspense of “who’s next” along with the thoughtful, confounding question of the muddled motives of The Creeper himself. Not to mention, Hatton cuts an alarming form, stealing every scene he’s in.

Sassy newspaper reporter Joan Medford (Virginia Grey) goes about sticking her nose in a lot of business to not only try to help out her pals De Lange and Morrow, but eventually to aid in apprehending the creeping killer who’s running all over town snapping the spines of art critics and pretty girls.

The film ends as troubling as one might expect. But the real tragedy is that The Creeper never had the chance to make his way in the Universal horror realm. Hatton previously portrayed The Creeper in Universal’s Sherlock Holmes picture THE PEARL OF DEATH (1944). It wasn’t until his appearance in HOUSE OF HORRORS that The Creeper was the star of the show. Hatton appeared as The Creeper once more in THE BRUTE MAN, released the same year as HOUSE OF HORRORS, but sadly passed away due to complications of his disfiguring condition, known as acromegaly, before either film saw the light of a projector bulb.

Hatton’s Creeper is certainly something to behold on screen. The laconic character’s stoic, stalking disposition is quite chilling, but the use of deformity as genre entertainment raises ethical concerns that today’s more sensitive audiences would find disapproving.

Screenwriter George Bricker moves the story along at an efficient pace, peppering the film’s vibrant characters with refreshingly florid, crackling dialogue, especially when compared to other Universal B-pictures of the day. After reporter Joan Medford defends her pal, artist Steve Morrow, F. Holmes Harmon rather eloquently and unpleasantly expresses his distaste for the man’s work while also berating the rest of society: “Unfortunately, the general public’s appreciation of art is limited to billboards and magazine covers. The morons wallow in a sea of girls, girls, unbelievably beautiful and well-proportioned girls.” We may cut The Creeper a little slack for offing this guy.

HOUSE OF HORRORS is also atypical of the early B-horror film because it seems to suggest a subtext regarding the contentious relationship between artists and their critics. The entire narrative is predicated on F. Holmes Harmon rejecting De Lange’s art. From there, art critics become the antagonist’s antagonist. It’s hard to call anyone besides Joan Medford a protagonist. Artist Steve Morrow seems to fit that role too along with the obligatory police detective, but Morrow is really only collaterally involved. The main characters, De Lange and The Creeper, have no morally redeemable motives whatsoever. The film is truly a psychotic, anti-hero story; De Lange is just a different version of a mad scientist with a “monster” at his disposal to help exact his every whim.

This film is a fascinating glimpse at a new Universal legacy character that never really had the chance to fully explore its potential. HOUSE OF HORRORS works as a different kind of horror tale that borrows a template from those that came before, but also attempts something even more chilling than the usual monster film. The Creeper is genuinely terrifying beyond his malformed appearance. He’s something that cannot be reasoned with and arguably one of the most menacing creations of the period.

Eureka Entertainment presents these four creepy classics on high-definition Blu-Ray in its two-disc CREEPING HORROR collection. Special features include trailers for each film and a limited-edition booklet with writing by Craig Ian Mann and Jon Towlson. Film author Stephen Jones and author/critic Kim Newman provide commentaries for NIGHT MONSTER and HOUSE OF HORRORS. And film historians Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby offer commentaries for MURDERS IN THE ZOO and HORROR ISLAND. The set is packaged in a limited-edition slipcover.

Universal sought relentlessly to recapture the spirit of horror so prevalent in films like FRANKENSTEIN and DRACULA in the years following those films, and did so with varying degrees of success. Eureka’s CREEPING HORROR collection is a refreshing sampling of films that endure within the Universal horror legacy.

 

 

When he’s not working as a Sasquatch stand-in for sleazy European films, Lucas Hardwick spends time writing film essays and reviews for We Belong Dead and Screem magazines. Lucas also enjoys writing horror shorts and has earned Quarterfinalist status in the Killer Shorts and HorrOrigins screenwriting contests. You can find Lucas’ shorts on Coverfly.

by Anthony Taylor
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

 

THE GIRL ON A MOTORCYCLE – 1968
2.5 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Alain Delon , Marianne Faithfull , Roger Mutton , Marius Goring
Director: Jack Cardiff
Rated: Not Rated
Studio: Kino Lorber
Region: A
BRD Release Date: 12/13/2022
Audio Formats: English: DTS-HD Master Audio 1595 kbps 2.0 / 48 kHz /16-bit
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD from new 4K Master
Aspect Ratio: 1.66:1
Run Time: 91 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place – i.e., after the French cinema verité/new wave filmmaking swept cinema and before the auteur revolution became popularized by the success of EASY RIDER (1969), Jack Cardiff’s THE GIRL ON A MOTORCYCLE seems a wan, “also ran” exercise in youth-oriented filmmaking from someone who had little understanding of the culture he was attempting to portray. Cardiff began his career in the camera department and became a top level cinematographer with films like THE RED SHOES, THE BRAVE ONE, and DEATH ON THE NILE. His transition to directing yielded several gems like SONS AND LOVERS and DARK OF THE SUN. This film was (by Cardiff’s own admission) hatchet-ed by the American censors, but that doesn’t seem to be the whole story, as the 54-year-old-at-the-time director clearly made some bad decisions himself in shooting it.

Rebecca (Faithfull) is a young, petulant newlywed who simply cannot stand the passiveness of her husband Raymond (Mutton) for a moment longer and decides to leave him for her older lover Daniel (Delon), a rogue of a literary professor with whom she’s been having a torrid affair since before her marriage. Daniel is a man damaged by a past relationship who acts out his anger with Rebecca, and cares not a whit for her otherwise. Traveling between her home in Orleans and Daniel’s in Heidelberg on the powerful motorcycle that Daniel gave her as a wedding present, Rebecca reflects on the journey that brought her to leave Raymond and forsake her life of reasonable comfort for what she knows will be an ecstasy of pain with Daniel.

My problems with the film are myriad; there’s no protagonist. It’s really hard to care about a character who is a self-described “silly bitch,” and revels in rubbing her husband’s face in her affair with another man who loathes her. Raymond is a cuckold, Daniel a narcissist. With whom should the viewers identify? Someone should have told Cardiff that there’s no such thing as adorable nihilism. Throughout the film, Rebecca engages in fantasies, flashbacks, and dreams which include circus horse acrobatics, strenuous snow skiing, and motorcycle riding – all potentially dangerous but thrilling pursuits – yet we only ever see Faithfull in a small handful of shots actually doing any of this herself. She’s either being photographed on a camera tow car, in process shots, rear projection, or a stunt double is used. This is an analog for Rebecca; she wants an exciting, danger-filled life but is too much of a coward to actually commit to the experiences. She internalizes all of her loathing and desire throughout the film, shared with the viewer via voiceovers. Another gripe: the sex (and some dream sequence) scenes shift into low resolution solarized posterization visual effects, doubtless in order to hide the more explicit nature of the shots. This effect was contextually current for the time, but became a cliché almost immediately and now just seems quaint.

Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray presentation of THE GIRL ON A MOTORCYCLE is sourced from a brand new 4K scan, and looks very good for the most part. There are some issues with the solarized effects as stated – they seem lower resolution and have more artifacts than the rest of the picture. Some detail is soft in scenes, but this may be the intent of the cinematographer. Audio is reasonable, well mixed, and robust for the musical score if not the whole film. Dialog was certainly dubbed in post-production, and a bit distracting occasionally. Extras on the disc include a legacy commentary from director Cardiff with a lot of very interesting reminiscences of making the film and the challenges he faced in conveying Rebecca’s stream of consciousness. A new commentary from author and film historian Alexandra Heller-Nicholas delves more into the nuances of feminism and the biker film genre. Both are worth a listen. Also included is the theatrical trailer and several others.

Is THE GIRL ON A MOTORCYCLE a classic or a misstep? It’s lovely to look at, as is its star, Marianne Faithfull. I can say that it’s certainly provocative, and a film that any viewer will hold a strong opinion about. Whether that opinion is positive or negative is subjective, of course.

 

 

 

Anthony Taylor is not only the Minister of Science, but also Defender of the Faith. His reviews and articles have appeared in magazines such as Screem, Fangoria, Retro Fan, Famous Monsters of Filmland, SFX, Video WatcH*Dog, and many more.

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

By Lucas Hardwick
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

FRENCH NOIR COLLECTION – 1957-1959
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Jean Gabin, Marcel Bozzuffi, Annie Giradot, Gérard Oury, Jeanne Moreau, Philippe Nicaud, Lino Ventura, Franco Fabrizi, Sandra Milo
Directors: Gilles Grangier, Édouard Molinaro
Rated: Not rated
Studio: Kino Lorber
Region: A
BRD Release Date: November 29, 2022
Audio Formats: French: DTS-HD Master Audio Mono, French: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p
Aspect Ratios: 1.66:1, 1.37:1, 1.33:1
Run Time:  300 minutes total
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

Noir flicks are usually good for scratching a moody itch. Style is the name of the game, typically supplemented by some oozy shadows, a girl in trouble, and a private detective who says stuff like, “dame” and “broad.” Take all that and put a French spin on it, and you’ll be surprised at how unsettling the combo can be. The folks at Kino Lorber put this mix to the test with their new FRENCH NOIR COLLECTION featuring three parables of unsavory deeds that’ll exploit your emotions and reveal your own darkest allegiances in the face of infidelity.

Gilles Grangier’s LE ROUGE EST MIS (1957) (a.k.a. SPEAKING OF MURDER) is a pretty standard caper at the outset. It’s got the usual set of heavies, their hideouts, stashes of guns, and getaway cars. Louis Bertain (Jean Gabin) and his crew know their business to a T: get in, get the money, get out, change the plates on the car, hide the guns, etc. Louis even has a garage business that works as a great cover and gives him access to any number of vehicles. And while Louis may be a hulking, middle-aged grumpy gut, he still lives with his mother (who may or may not be around the same age), and he’s incensed to learn that his cuckold brother Pierre (Marcel Bozzuffi) is still fooling around with two-timing floozy Hélène (Annie Girardot) the hairdresser who is only interested in him for his promise of fur coats and all that entails.

Sure there’s another caper to be had in this film, but the story is Louis’ intervening in his brother’s relationship. Louis goes out of his way to woo Hélène away from work to not only vet her gold-digging tendencies, but to also threaten her to keep away from his baby brother. But should Pierre find out that Louis is spooking his girl, Pierre may turn out to be the authorities’ best informant regarding a string of robberies happening in and around Paris.

If it wasn’t written by French crime novelist Auguste Le Breton (Rififi), Le Rouge Est Mis — which translates directly as The Red Light is On — could easily be a bedroom farce or an episode of Frasier. This film is wildly entertaining from start to finish, and the rate at which the narrative unfolds is atypical of what most would consider “film noir.” Cinematographer Louis Page doesn’t go all-in for the noir look, but presents the film the only way the story will allow — quick and to-the-point, never exhibiting any of the usual noir flair involving deep shadows, dark alleyways, and convenient window treatments.

Beyond lacking the usual noir tropes, the heart of this movie is less interested in thrilling with swashbuckling robberies and daring-do, but is rather more compelled to appeal to audiences’ frustrations regarding family business — as in not minding one’s own. Louis’ inevitable downfall doesn’t necessarily occur by way of mouthy informant, but by his need to protect his brother from the dangers of a bloodsucking Jezebel. The thieving and murdering and evading the cops suddenly doesn’t seem so bad and it’s the business with Hélène that sticks in your craw. The opportunistic hussy is where the noir lives in this film, and it’s the distraction included that throws Louis off his game that causes him to miss the rat right under his nose.

Louis Bertain may be good at what he does, but even the best crooks are susceptible to complications beyond simply being chased by the cops. Any expectations for a moody noir thriller are swept away with Italian-esque expediency to reveal a narratively infuriating denouement where the only score to be had is made of astrakhan.

Few things are as satisfying as witnessing a man execute an elaborate blackmailing scheme on his cheating spouse. In Édouard Molinaro’s 1958 film LE DOS AU MUR (BACK TO THE WALL), Jacques Decrey (Gérard Oury) plays a vengeful long game against his wife Gloria (Jeanne Moreau) and her lover Yves (Philippe Nicaud) after quietly busting them being more than friends upon his early arrival home from a hunting trip. Jacques proceeds to squeeze the bedswerving pair for money (some of it his own) posing as one of his former employees, and does it all while keeping a straight face at home. He may come across as a cuckold to some, but Jacques has balls of steel, and his endgame isn’t what you think.

Jacques’ resolve appears obvious at the beginning of the film as he is seen silently and meticulously disposing of a man’s body by encasing it inside a concrete wall being constructed at the factory he runs. What proceeds is the events leading up to this macabre scenario told in flashback.

What LE ROUGE EST MIS lacked in noir stylings, LE DOS AU MUR more than makes up for, at times leaning into the gothic with thick inky shadows, dense fog, and an unexplained, but strikingly poetic, voice-over narration. Based on his novel, co-writer Frédéric Dard’s blackmailing plot gets pretty confusing later in the film, but at that point, it’s less about the journey and more about the destination. And with a story so well-executed, viewers can trust that a satisfying (though tragic) resolution is on the way.

There are secrets and then there’s confidentiality, and it’s important to know the difference. Jacques goes the distance when it comes to confidentiality — he never has to explain what he’s up to, and it’s what keeps his covert deeds somewhat redeemable. He’s simply not talking. But as far as adulterous lovers go, secrets are essential, especially when you’re hawking your own jewelry to keep your blackmailer’s mouth shut. Ultimately, silence is where it’s at, and it’s imbedded into this film right from the start as the opening credits roll over a hushed car ride to the apartment where Jacques has located Gloria’s classified companion. Ironically, even silence has devastating consequences as eventually confidentiality and secrets are revealed without anyone ever uttering a word.

Director Édouard Molinaro’s noir stylings return in this set’s final film, UN TEMOIN DANS LA VILLE (1959) (WITNESS IN THE CITY), and infidelity is the catalyst for murder yet again, except this time the situation is exacerbated by a rejected cab ride.

The film begins with a woman being thrown from a train. We soon learn she was ejected from the speeding locomotive by her lover Pierre (Jacques Berthier) who is acquitted of the murder minutes into the film. Authorities are led to believe the woman committed suicide and Pierre walks home a free man; waiting for him there to settle the score is his lover’s husband Ancelin (Lino Ventura) who is all set to exact the perfect murder when the cab Pierre called moments before, arrives to find no Pierre. From this point on a relentless blood hunt ensues as Ancelin prowls the streets of Paris tracking down the cabbie Lambert (Franco Fabrizi) who may suspect his foul play.

The film goes big on the usual noir tropes, exchanging voice-over narrative for a cool jazzy score. And much of the story takes place at night and on many a wild car chase through dim-lit Parisian streets. The camaraderie amongst the cab crew is infectious exposition. The hardscrabble gang of chauffeurs becomes a lovable union of pals we’re all rooting for by the end as they rally to stop the maniacal Ancelin. At that point Ancelin has shown his true colors and we care less about his getting away with a revenge killing and more about seeing Lambert and his girl Lilliane (Sandra Milo) run off and get married.

Molinaro’s film successfully manipulates the viewer’s emotions, at first convincing the audience of a satisfying revenge killing that eventually shifts our allegiance from the murderer to a pair of lovebirds who dominate the tale. And as Ancelin reveals his bloodthirsty ways, some may even begin to question how sordid the film’s opening really was, becoming unsure of what they truly witnessed, and dubious of any feelings about the vindictive murder that Ancelin was set to get away with.

Kino Lorber presents these three films in its FRENCH NOIR COLLECTION on high-definition Blu-ray Disc. Trailers for each of the films are the only special features. It’s a crime that the extras are so scant in this set; these films are rich enough in style and theme to at least be worthy of a few commentaries if only for insightful observation.

The prospect of French film noir may summon some snoozy reactions, but these movies are anything but. From bombastic robberies and their daring getaways to cuckolded husbands and their nefarious labyrinthine schemes of revenge, Kino’s collection is a surprise trio of refreshingly twisted and thoughtful tales of crimes of the heart.

 

 

When he’s not working as a Sasquatch stand-in for sleazy European films, Lucas Hardwick spends time writing film essays and reviews for We Belong Dead and Screem magazines. Lucas also enjoys writing horror shorts and has earned Quarterfinalist status in the Killer Shorts and HorrOrigins screenwriting contests. You can find Lucas’ shorts on Coverfly.

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

by Anthony Taylor
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

 

 

INVADERS FROM MARS – 1953
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Helena Carter , Arthur Franz , Jimmy Hunt , Leif Erickson , Morris Ankrum
Director: William Cameron Menzies
Rated: Unrated
Studio: Ignite Films
Region: A
BRD Release Date: December 16, 2022 – Also available on 4K UHD
Audio Formats: English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono (48kHz, 24-bit)
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1
Run Time: 78 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

In 1953, the “Red Scare” was in full swing and Hollywood got busy processing the zeitgeist through filters of monster attacks, giant bug infestations, and alien invasions on film. Anti-communist sentiment was seeping into every aspect of life, and the cold war mentality became de rigeur for Americans of all ages. One thing we could all depend on was that the government, police, military, and especially our parents had our best interests in mind and stood ready to protect us from all comers, right? Right?

Not in INVADERS FROM MARS. Director William Cameron Menzies’ take on mid-century anti-commie allegory scared the bejesus out of every kid that sat through a film house matinee on a Saturday, saw it on television years later, and even – I have to admit – watched a high definition restored Blu-ray of it as an adult.

Little David (Jimmy Hunt) MacLean wakes up during a storm at night to see an eerie green flying saucer land behind a hill in a field beyond his backyard. Father Leif Erickson goes to investigate and disappears. When he returns, it’s clear he has been… turned. He swats David for back-talking, stares sternly into the middle distance just beyond the camera, and can hardly wait to take his wife out to the field so that she can be turned as well. As David tries to warn his neighbors, the buried saucer, and its alien crew, suck more and more of them under the sand, including the Chief of Police and other authority figures.

Menzie’s dreamy production design (which the film comes by honestly) is a wonder unto itself. Supersaturated colors cast the impressionist sets into a chiaroscuro landscape right out of a Gustave Doré etching. Infinity ceilings and impossibly long hallways accentuate the clutching panic that grows for David as everyone he turns to for help has already become “the enemy.” Eventually, he is believed by social worker Carter and astronomer Franz who rally the troops to assault the alien invaders.

It’s not hard to see the kind of impact this film had on young viewers, many of whom grew into young adults in the mid-1960s and changed the world by questioning authority and speaking truth to power here in America. It may as well have been the seed planted for many members of the counterculture, and if so, Menzies’ powers of suggestion were greater than he ever knew. An illustrator and designer who worked on many classic films with his name above the credits, INVADERS FROM MARS is his master work as a director.

Ignite Films pulled out all the stops for their presentation of the film on Blu-ray (and 4K UHD), starting with a truly impressive restoration from the surviving original film elements and even a few scenes from dupe prints for a new 4K scan. The picture has never looked so good, with saturation and film grain balanced well, and black levels well stabilized. The Master Audio mono sound mix is robust and translates both music, dialog, and sound effects nicely. Supplemental materials are abundant with featurettes on the restoration, interviews with Hunt and others, a round table style discussion with film directors John Landis, Joe Dante, editor Mark Goldblatt , special visual effects artist and two time Oscar Winner Robert Skotak (foremost expert on the film), and enthusiast and film preservationist Scott MacQueen, and much more including a twenty page booklet written by MacQueen. My copy even came with a pin-back button of the head (literally) Martian!

This package elevates Ignite Films to a new level in the pantheon of media distributors. Here’s hoping its success spurs them on to other such projects. INVADERS FROM MARS is my choice for restoration of the year for 2022.

 

 

Anthony Taylor is not only the Minister of Science, but also Defender of the Faith. His reviews and articles have appeared in magazines such as Screem, Fangoria, Famous Monsters of Filmland, SFX, Video WatcH*Dog, and many more.

 

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

by Anthony Taylor
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

EYES OF LAURA MARS – 1978
2 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Faye Dunaway , Tommy Lee Jones , Brad Dourif , Rene Auberjonois , Raul Julia
Director: Irvin Kershner
Rated: R
Studio: Kino Lorber
Region: Free
BRD Release Date: October 18, 2022
Audio Formats: English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD
Aspect Ratio: 1.78:1
Original Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
Run Time: 103 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

With a screenplay by John Carpenter and David Zelag Goodman  and a cast featuring one recent and one future Academy Award™ winner as well as several multiple-time nominees, EYES OF LAURA MARS should be a classic of the thriller genre, a notable pin on the map of suspense films. So why isn’t it? Producer Jon Peters and director Irvin Kershner. This is a film made by a hairdresser with a big-shot girlfriend and his yes man, and it shows.

Which is not to say that either of them never improved or did better work; on the contrary. Peters went on to produce many great films, and Kershner went on to direct better films. Eyes was Peters’ second film as producer, after mega-hit A STAR IS BORN (1976), so he might be forgiven a bit of brash egotism after being given carte blanche by the studio for his next effort. As he matured into the role of executive producer, his work improved and includes AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981), RAIN MAN (1988), and BATMAN (1989). Kershner was at the beginning of a string of films for which he was hired specifically for his reputation for pliability and his willingness to let strong-willed producers take the reins. His follow-ups for this picture were STAR WARS: EPISODE V – THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK for George Lucas and NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN for Kevin McClory. He spent the final years of his career directing television and the lackluster ROBOCOP 2 (1990).

The duo’s faults are evident in self-indulgent story choices, stilted performances from a stellar cast, ham-fisted attempts at creating suspense, endless exposition scenes, and a hand-wave of a plot device – Mars “sees” murders of her friends and colleagues through the eyes of the killer, psychically – that’s never questioned nor explained. I’m certain the screenplay was a taut thriller and it might have been done justice by a more experienced producer and a director like Brian De Palma, at the height of his powers in 1978. As it stands, what we get is a soggy mess of a disco era mystery that mystifies the viewer, with protagonists who are far less interesting than the supporting characters. The most watchable and entertaining people in the film are Rene Auberjonois as Mars’ manager Donald, and Darlanne Fluegel  as doomed model Lulu. The photographic tableaus by Helmut Newton are dazzling as well.

Kino Lorber’s presentation of the movie on Blu-ray seems a bit of shovel-ware, to be honest. Sourced from an existing master that’s been released twice already by competitors, the picture has some issues with color and contrast balance, especially in darker scenes. Film grain bloom is distractingly evident. The single audio track is quite good, and in fact seems better than the one included on the disc released by Mill Creek Entertainment in 2019. Though listed as a “Special Edition” on the Kino website, the only special features on this single disc are a legacy commentary by Kershner (natch, as he passed away in 2010), a making-of featurette from 1978, a featurette with commentary on the photographs in the film, and trailers. Not a very special edition at all.

EYES OF LAURA MARS has a pedigree that should have delivered a better viewing experience, and Kino Lorber has a reputation for releasing better product than this. It’s hard not to be disappointed on all levels by this presentation. Give it a pass.

 

 

 

Anthony Taylor is not only the Minister of Science, but also Defender of the Faith. His reviews and articles have appeared in magazines such as Screem, Fangoria, Famous Monsters of Filmland, SFX, Video WatcH*Dog, and many more.

 

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

By Lucas Hardwick
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

 

 

MANIACAL MAYHEM: THE INVISIBLE RAY, BLACK FRIDAY, and THE STRANGE DOOR — 1936, 1940, 1951
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Frances Drake, Stanley Ridges, Anne Nagel, Charles Laughton, Richard Stapley, Sally Forrest
Director: Lambert Hillyer, Arthur Lubin, Joseph Pevney
Rated: PG
Studio: Eureka Entertainment
Region: B
BRD Release Date: October 17, 2022
Audio Formats: English: LPCM 2.0 Mono (48kHz, 24-bit)
Video Codec: Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1
Run Time: 230 minutes total
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

Anytime the name Karloff is blasted across a film’s title card in big, scary letters, audiences can pretty much count on a degree of the macabre to grace their forthcoming entertainment.

“Karloff” is such a fitting name to correlate with horror, it seems strange that it was devised before the fame of Universal’s FRANKENSTEIN came to Boris Karloff. If it weren’t for the name belonging to the actor, “Karloff” could very well be its own title for a horror film; in fact, it is sometimes seen before or bigger than the titles of the films it’s featured in. The name evokes the exotic and mysterious, and is strange enough to warn viewers that they’re not in Kansas anymore. The name so easily rolls off the tongue that it seems a miracle of marketing; a perfect conceit designed to transmit its associations exactly.

William Henry Pratt chose the Boris Karloff pseudonym at the beginning of his acting career with the very intent to assert an exotic sensibility. The name Karloff is said to be derived from the Pratt family’s Slavic roots; however, this is just one of many theories regarding the moniker. At any rate, “Karloff” was good enough for Universal to bill the actor for several years so garishly. The final instance of Karloff’s singular label occurred in 1936 with the movie THE INVISIBLE RAY, which is the first of three Boris Karloff films in Eureka Entertainment’s new MANIACAL MAYHEM collection.

THE INVISIBLE RAY is the textbook mad scientist tale of Dr. Janos Rukh who is intent on harnessing the power of an ancient element known as Radium X. Rukh invites a group of colleagues to his gothic laboratory, and using a powerful telescope and the ancient light rays of the Andromeda galaxy, demonstrates that Radium X exists in the form of a meteorite that crashed in southern Africa millions of years ago. There are probably less convoluted ways to go about discovering an ancient radioactive element, but where’s the fun in that?

Once Rukh is able to exploit the power of Radium X, he’s not only melting rocks and scaring the local natives, but he’s also glowing in the dark and losing his temper. Rukh’s precarious condition becomes compounded by a little IP infringement and good-natured infidelity, sending him into a murderous mindset. Upon pursuing his colleagues to a conference in Paris, the maddened doctor becomes hellbent to use his rock-melting ray gun to dispatch the expedition team that did him so wrong.

As if “Karloff” alone wasn’t enough to get asses into seats, Universal doubles down in THE INVISIBLE RAY and casts Bela Lugosi as Rukh’s contemporary, Dr. Benet. Playing against type, Lugosi’s Benet is cool and collected and only wants to help his comrade. Benet is one of Lugosi’s most reserved and mature performance, demonstrating what he could be capable of aside from the usual demented heavies and crazed monsters. And despite being equipped with the kitschy traits of a Batman villain, Karloff never takes his performance over the top, but does convey an elevated sense of the maniacal. He’s frantic and harried, but never as nutty as rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the next step of his scheme. Rukh comes across more troubled than downright evil.

With more plot than the story needs, THE INVISIBLE RAY is a brisk account of too much science in the hands of an emotionally driven individual, which is usually bad for characters but great for entertaining. And showcasing just the right amount of weirdness with impressive special effects, this Karloff vehicle is a thrilling entry in Eureka’s MANIACAL MAYHEM collection.

The title BLACK FRIDAY may evoke some sort of interstitial holiday-themed horror about a bloodthirsty mob of Christmas shoppers. Instead, the 1940 film is a switcheroo tale that has little to do with the penultimate weekday aside from an unfortunate accident involving a carload of gangsters and a literature professor occurring on a Friday the 13th.

Karloff is Dr. Ernest Sovac, seen at the very beginning of the movie being escorted to his execution. On his way to the chair, Sovac shares his final notes with a newspaper reporter, retrospectively permitting the audience to learn how the good doctor arrived at this mortal predicament.

Essentially told in flashback, BLACK FRIDAY is more a story about Sovac’s colleague than Sovac himself. The doctor’s journal reveals the tale of how his friend, literature professor George Kingsley (Stanley Ridges) suffers severe brain injuries after being on the business end of a carload of gangsters

in hot pursuit of rival thug Red Cannon (also Stanley Ridges). Cannon and Kingsley are both injured in the accident, and Sovac being the doctor on scene, tends to the two men.

Once Sovac learns that Cannon is privy to a hidden pile of cash to the tune of five-hundred thousand bucks, the doctor starts daydreaming about the kind of laboratory that amount of money could buy. This, of course, steers Sovac into concocting a little surgery, transplanting the good parts of Cannon’s brain into the dying parts of his friend Kingsley’s in hopes that the mixing of minds will reveal the location of the gangster’s secret stash.

Sovac’s procedure saves Kingsley’s life, but before long, the dweeby, good-natured professor begins to exhibit unsavory proclivities. Sovac gets more than he bargained for as Cannon’s personality sporadically takes over Kingsley and sets about exacting revenge on the group of gangsters that ran him down. From this point on, Sovac is not only desperate to achieve his original motives, but he’s at the mercy of a gangster gone wild. And much like Dr. Frankenstein, Sovac has created a monster.

Karloff basically plays second fiddle to Ridges for the rest of the film, which unfolds like a Jekyll and Hyde story. There’s hardly any redeemable characters, especially since Karloff’s motives are so misguided to begin with. He doesn’t perform crazy experimental brain surgery to save his friend, he does it in hopes to uncover a gangster’s ill-gotten gains. What’s more, is Sovac had to anticipate some degree of identity crisis in order to learn where Cannon hid his money. This puts Sovac in an even more diabolical role for risking his friend’s mental state. Yet, somehow, the film seems to want to audience to sympathize with Sovac. Sure, he’s in a mess, but it’s a mess of his own making under the guise of a really troubling rationale.

BLACK FRIDAY pairs Karloff with Bela Lugosi in the credits once again. This time, Lugosi is one of Cannon’s adversaries and never really engages Karloff in the sense audiences might expect. The role of Sovac was originally written for Lugosi, but Karloff showed interest, so the part went to him instead. Lugosi, however, may have been better suited as Sovac considering the scheming nature of the part. Lugosi’s Marnay is a pretty stale character, and doesn’t demonstrate the actor’s strengths. Lugosi is fine in the role, but any actor would have been just as suited for it.

BLACK FRIDAY is another example of science gone mad; however, the film doesn’t know quite know what it wants from its audience. It’s easy to sympathize with poor professor Kingsley who never asks for anything that happens to him. Meanwhile, Karloff’s reserved disposition doesn’t villainize him, yet his dubious motives are the driving force of conflict in the film. And while Karloff and Lugosi may be enough to get the audience’s attention, it’s Stanley Ridges’ cracking performance as he darts between the mild-mannered Kingsley and the disreputable Cannon that viewers won’t want to miss.

The third and final film in Eureka’s collection is the 1951 gothic period thriller THE STRANGE DOOR. Based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s short story “The Sire de Maletroit’s Door,” Universal’s adaptation stars Karloff in a supporting role next to the scene-devouring Charles Laughton who portrays the film’s heavy.

In yet another story of elaborate revenge, Sire Alain de Maletroit (Laughton) entraps local high-born scoundrel Denis de Beaulieu (Richard Stapley) in a barroom brawl that stages him as a murderer. Beaulieu makes a break for it, and in his escape from the pursuant mob, he happens across the de Maletroit estate secured by its “strange door.” Beaulieu finds more than the refuge he bargained for inside, falling right into de Maletroit’s trap.

In the spirit of big gestures, it’s revealed that Alain’s snare is part of a much larger, longer grudge against his brother Edmond (Paul Cavanaugh) who he’s secretly locked up in a dungeon for the past 20 years. The duplicitous Alain intends to force his niece Blanche (Sally Forrest) into marrying de Beaulieu as an insult to her father Edmond, with the underhanded arrangement of holding the couple prisoner on the de Maletroit estate. This is all part of Alain’s over-baked revenge directed at Edmond for marrying his unrequited love who died giving birth to Blanche. It’s a lot to process.

Karloff plays the family servant Voltan, who spends most of his time tending to Edmond and sneaking around the mansion peeping through holes in the walls. At one point, Edmond asks Voltan to kill de Beaulieu, but de Beaulieu isn’t quite the scum everyone thinks he is, and he and Blanche eventually fall in love causing big problems for Alain’s once air-tight plans for vengeance.

THE STRANGE DOOR is a wonderful show of excess on several fronts, with a scene-chewing Charles Laughton leading the way. Laughton picks this film up and runs away with it; it’s a shame he didn’t have a mustache to twirl to make him all the more devious. From sets and costumes to Laughton and his band of bloused bullies and their meticulous scheming, this movie is a delightful cartoony extravagance that will give viewers a heart-racing case of the wim-wams in its final anxiety-inducing moments.

Eureka Entertainment presents these three Universal horrors in high-definition as an exciting two-disc, Blu-ray set, packaged in a limited-edition slipcase. Special features include three chatty and insightful commentaries from film historians Stephen Jones, Kevin Lyons, Kim Newman, and Jonathan Rigby, along with three radio adaptations of Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Sire de Maletroit’s Door.” A limited-edition booklet with new essays from film writers Andrew Graves, Rich Johnson, and Craig Ian Mann is also included in the first 2000 copies.

Invisible rays, a gangster with two brains, and a ruthless patriarch, MANIACAL MAYHEM never falls short of deranged individuals making everyone’s life a living hell, yet Karloff’s performances throughout evoke a quieter madness: something more troubling that greed or revenge. These films boast Karloff’s subtle abilities as a performer, oddly with roles that are seemingly more fit for an over-the-top talent. This Eureka collection offers a revelation of Karloff as he taps into the internal, tortured aspects of these disturbed characters, and conveys the unspoken human elements of maniacal movie monsters.

 

 

 

When he’s not working as a Sasquatch stand-in for sleazy European films, Lucas Hardwick spends time writing film essays and reviews for We Belong Dead and Screem magazines. Lucas also enjoys writing horror shorts and has earned Quarterfinalist status in the Killer Shorts and HorrOrigins screenwriting contests. You can find Lucas’ shorts on Coverfly.

By Contributing Writers
John Michlig and Anthony Taylor

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

 

GOOD GUYS WEAR BLACK (SPECIAL EDITION) – 1978
5 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Chuck Norris, Anne Archer, James Franciscus, Dana Andrews, Lloyd Haynes
Director: Ted Post
Rated: PG
Studio: Kino Lorber Studio Classics
Region: A (Locked)
BRD Release Date: August 20, 2022
Audio Formats: English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD
Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
Run Time: 95 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

There are a certain set of expectations when cueing up a Chuck Norris film that GOOD GUYS WHERE BLACK does not live up to, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Norris’s role in GOOD GUYS WHERE BLACK is the debut of the persona he would eventually make famous. His previous film and debut as star was 1977’s BREAKER! BREAKER!, which was not at all in the vein of the eventual stoic martial-arts-hero-doing-helicopter-kicks character he would portray for the balance of his career. However, one of the reasons this film is genuinely entertaining is the fact that Norris hasn’t yet latched onto the simpler “fighting fury” cartoon his subsequent roles encompassed.

After an intriguingly long and eerie opening credits sequence (the ’78 version of “hi-tech visuals”–and all that implies – accompanied by a soundtrack that still haunts me) the film opens in Vietnam, circa 1973, where we meet a wise-cracking dressed-in-black special ops crew – the Black Tigers – and get to know them well enough to be deeply disturbed when we witness a POW rescue attempt gone wrong (and, as made clear on the 2K Master, very obviously shot day for night ). Also disturbing is Chuck Norris, who portrays Major John T. Booker, parading around without his signature mustache or beard.

After that tragic sequence of events (the failed rescue, not the facially bald Chuck visage), we fast-forward to 1978, where we see Booker racing cars. From the track, he goes directly to a small classroom where he is a professor teaching a class on the Vietnam war.

See what they did there? Our guy is an intellectual, sure – but he also races cars, so we know he hasn’t shed his adventurous side and gone all egghead. That’s not all; Professor Booker is openly critical of the Vietnam war and America’s role in the conflict, which is pretty darn forward-looking for a late-seventies adventure flick.

He meets Margaret (Anne Archer), who stays behind after his lecture and says she is a reporter digging up information on his unit’s failed raid in ‘Nam and possible government complicity in the disaster. At the very same time, it appears that members of Booker’s Black Tigers team are being eliminated one by one. As per adventure film guidelines, Booker “gets with” Margaret, culminating in a truly rare – but entirely period-accurate – shot of Norris in “tighty whities.” Their coupling is not entirely arbitrary however, as it provides an opportunity to show Booker enduring night sweats as he relives wartime nightmares.

GOOD GUYS WHERE BLACK is Norris’s breakout film, but it’s surprisingly – and refreshingly – free of the action-drenched, by-the-numbers formula that made up his subsequent films. This may be attributed to the direction by Ted Post, who helmed HANG ‘EM HIGH, BENEATH THE PLANET OF THE APES, MAGNUM FORCE, GO TELL THE SPARTANS, and NIGHTKILL.

After the opening Vietnam sequence, the film becomes more political thriller than the patented Norris martial arts blur of combat that became his trademark (James Franciscus is a perfect smarmy politician). Good Guys is a film that Norris constructed and pitched, not a vehicle he merely climbed aboard. We get a peek at some elements of the Norris-to-be, particularly when he watches a plane, in which newfound bedmate Margaret is a passenger, vaporize soon after takeoff, and we never hear her mentioned again in the film.

The KL Studio Classics Blu-ray presentation includes energetic and genuinely entertaining commentary by Mike Leeder and Arne Venema, a “making of” featurette, an interview (curiously unedited) with director Ted Post, radio and TV promotional material, and theatrical trailers.

Revisiting this film for the first time in many years was a real pleasure, and it’s highly recommended for both Norris fans and action/thriller lovers. Get to the chopper!

–John Michlig

 

 

MARK OF THE VAMPIRE – 1935
3 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Lionel Barrymore, Bela Lugosi, Lionel Atwill, Jean Hersholt, Carroll Borland
Director: Tod Browning
Rated: Unrated
Studio: Warner Brothers Archive Collection
Region: A
BRD Release Date: October 11, 2022
Audio Formats: English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono (48kHz, 24-bit)
Video Codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Resolution: 1080p HD
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1
Run Time: 60 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

A remake of director Browning’s most infamous lost film LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT, MARK OF THE VAMPIRE lands wide of the mark, missing the bullseye by a fairly wide margin while remaining a stimulating viewing experience.

Though Lionel Barrymore (IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE, KEY LARGO) is ostensibly the star of the picture, the real attraction for modern viewers is the tantalizing glimpse of what LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT might have offered, as well as Lugosi’s first revisit of Dracula under the guise of Count Mora. Also of note is the introduction of Carroll Borland as Mora’s daughter Luna, who provides the original visual pattern for multiple generations of Goth girls – inspiring not only Charles Addams’s Morticia and Wednesday Addams, but Lily Munster and the likes of television horror hosts Vampira and Elvira as well.

In 1927’s silent LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT, Lon Chaney played three different parts, as assayed in this film by Barrymore, Atwill, and Lugosi – much more a tour de force performance one would assume without being able to actually see the film, which was by many reports no more successful creatively than this talkie remake. Lugosi would go on to play similar vampire roles in THE RETURN OF THE VAMPIRE, MOTHER RILEY MEETS THE VAMPIRE, and finally returned to the role that made him world famous as Dracula in ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN in 1948. What sets this film apart is the feeling that Lugosi – having been a major horror film star for four years at this point – is letting it all hang out as Count Mora, playing the role of Dracula as he would like to have played him 1931. More toothy, less verbose (he has almost no dialog whatsoever), and really leaning into the campiness of the stereotype he provided in Dracula. This performance almost plays as a parody of Count Dracula, and it’s enjoyable because he was embracing his destiny to be the go-to visual for vampires in media for time immemorial. Likewise, amateur actor Borland is really only in the film as set dressing, but she is unforgettable and iconic as the vampire girl Luna. In two possible cinematic firsts, she provides a performance embracing female-on-female vampire activity as well as the first recoil and hostile hiss by a vampire – something that has become de rigueur for night walkers when faced by a cross or holy water in subsequent genre films.

Where MARK OF THE VAMPIRE fails is at a story level. The convoluted screenplay produced an original edit of the film that ran twenty minutes longer than the version released to theaters, which hints at a lot of subplots and scenes that were ultimately deemed superfluous by the studio. Whether they might have made the farfetched plot more palatable is hard to say – as it stands, the plot isn’t difficult to follow, but it’s not even remotely realistic – but should that matter in a film about “vampires” that looks this gorgeous? Art direction and set design far surpass that of Universal’s DRACULA, with MGM a latecomer to the horror film, throwing money at the latest box-office-darling genre. Cinematography by L. William O’Connell and John Stumar set the mood well, and acquit the story with appropriate gothic panache.

Warner Brothers Archive Collections presentation of the film was sourced from a new 4K scan from the original nitrate negative, and the results are impressive. Picture density, film grain, detail, and contrast are all the best I’ve ever seen for this title, and absolutely worth the purchase price. Supplemental features include a legacy commentary by author/critic Kim Newman (Anno Dracula) and writer/editor Stephen Jones is entertaining and informing, as it’s more of a conversation between two film loving friends than dry historical annotation. Also included are “A Thrill for Thelma” – a 1935 featurette unrelated to the film, as well as a Harmon-Ising cartoon, The Calico Dragon and the film’s original trailer. Only the feature is in HD.

Though the production history and performers and creators of this film are of more interest than the film itself, I still recommend grabbing a copy. For a film with this much historical significance to Lugosi/Browning completists as well as vampire lovers, this disc is worth picking up.

–Anthony Taylor

 

*Anthony Taylor is not only the Minister of Science, but also Defender of the Faith. His reviews and articles have appeared in magazines such as Screem, Fangoria, Famous Monsters of Filmland, SFX, Video WatcH*Dog, and many more.

*When he’s not hanging around the top of the Empire State Building, John Michlig spends his time writing books like It Came from Bob’s Basement, KONG: King Of Skull Island, and GI Joe: The Complete Story of America’s Favorite Man of Action. Read more at The Fully Articulated Newsletter and The Denham Restoration Project.

 

Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.

By Lucas Hardwick
Contributing Writer

 

Welcome to Apes on Film! This column exists to scratch your retro-film-in-high-definition itch. We’ll be reviewing new releases of vintage cinema and television on disc of all genres, finding gems and letting you know the skinny on what to avoid. Here at Apes on Film, our aim is to uncover the best in retro film. As we dig for artifacts, we’ll do our best not to bury our reputation. What will we find out here? Our destiny.

 

 

DRESSED TO KILL – 1980
4 out of 5 Bananas
Starring: Michael Caine, Angie Dickinson, Nancy Allen, and Keith Gordon
Director: Brian De Palma
Rated: Unrated
Studio: Kino Lorber
Region: 4K UHD Blu-Ray and 2K Blu-ray, Region Free
BRD Release Date: October 25, 2022
Audio Formats: English DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono and 5.1 (48kHz, 24-bit)
Video Codec: HEVC / H.265 (70.00 Mbps)
Resolution: Native 4K (2160p)
Aspect Ratio: 2.39:1
Run Time: 104 minutes
CLICK HERE TO ORDER

 

The lament of the sexually frustrated housewife gets everyone rooting for adultery. It’s never not a shame to see a beautiful woman carnally neglected or subject to something as mundane as “married sex,” or in the case of Angie Dickinson’s Kate Miller, obligatory sex. But where there’s smoke there’s fire and where there’s a sexually frustrated housewife, there’s a split diopter and a cross-dressing maniac with a straight razor, eventually making us all complicit to murder. Brian De Palma spells out the consequences of this particular instance of infidelity in his 1980 thriller DRESSED TO KILL.

Kate Miller has needs just like everyone else, the extent of which is luridly expressed in the film’s opening scene as her fantasy of being violently ravaged in the shower unfolds before revealing a two-pump chump reality. Kate is not a satisfied woman. That’s not to say her husband isn’t a good-looking man. He’s quite handsome, but he’s not a guy who’s really into “needs.”

It’s no surprise that Kate 1) sees a therapist who very openly, yet somehow very professionally, confesses that he’d like to sleep with her, and 2) that she’s willing to side-step a few Commandments when Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome takes a seat next to her at the art museum.

In what amounts to a horny game of cat-and-mouse, Kate and her handsome stranger pursue each other through the labyrinthine museum, culminating in a sultry cab ride that puts Kate in Mr. Handsome’s bed without her panties. Mr. Handsome’s name is Warren Lockman (Ken Baker), and at least part of Kate’s apprehensions are realized when she discovers Mr. Lockman has a venereal disease after pilfering the man’s desk drawer while he sleeps. This is only the beginning of a fatal exacting of Murphy’s Law for poor Kate.

Her walk of shame is interrupted when she goes back to retrieve her wedding ring from Lockman’s apartment. At this point Kate is feeling pretty low; she’s going to be late getting home, she’s cheated on her husband, and she may have a gnarly venereal disease pulsing through her veins. Things couldn’t get much worse—that is until she winds up on the business end of a straight razor at the hands of a strange blonde woman in sunglasses in a near verbatim remake of the famous shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s PSYCHO.

Witness to Kate’s murder is hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold Liz Blake (Nancy Allen). Liz is mid-escort when the murder occurs, which sends her client running. During the fracas, Liz catches a glimpse of the killer, immediately conscripting herself into the role amateur detective and dramatically changing the film’s tone from sordid romance on the down-low to a bona fide murder mystery of the giallo variety. From this point forward it’s Liz’s movie as she teams up with Kate’s nerdy teenage son Peter (Keith Gordon) to track down the mysterious blond-haired butcher, and tries not to get herself killed or arrested in the process.

The problem with the traditional murder mystery is there’s only so many people who can be the killer. Anyone with half a brain and an astute sense of empathy and narrative can pin down whodunit with relatively little difficulty. This is one instance where the saying “Italians do it better” rings true. The typical Italian giallo film will have audiences guessing to the very end with any number of red herrings at varying degrees of coherency along the way. And usually, it’s not the person you least expect, rather, it’s the person you least, least expect, like the paraplegic who’s been laid up in a bed the entire movie.

Once it’s revealed that Kate is in danger as she leaves the museum, De Palma mostly ditches the Hitchcock vibe he was working with and leans more into the giallo aesthetic. All the right pieces are there: a black-gloved hand, a weird cutting tool, a pretty blonde, and a bad disguise. Narratively, however, the director plays it safe and sticks to a pretty standard murder thriller.

This movie in any other director’s hands would be dangerously close to coming across like a made-for-TV film (not that there’s anything wrong with that). DRESSED TO KILL isn’t really about being a murder mystery, though; it’s about the thrill of a murder mystery, the shock of revelation, and the vicarious event of watching other people endure terror. It is an experience, and conclusively, it’s an opportunity for De Palma to play around in that old Hitchcock sandbox and lay down some of the distinct visual style for which he’s known.

De Palma’s critics corner him as misogynistic for his treatment of women in his films. DRESSED TO KILL, in particular, is an example of implicating a woman in a dangerous situation where arguably her own decisions lead to her death. What’s really happening in this film is more along the lines of satire. At face value, sure, Kate Miller does bad things, and as a result, bad things happen to her; but what about the bad things Kate’s husband is guilty of? If only he were more attentive in the way Kate needed him to be, she wouldn’t be compelled to do the bad things that get her killed. The lack of attention from Kate’s husband empowers her to go find what she feels she deserves.

Furthermore, if there were any doubt about De Palma’s intentions, one needs to look no further than the occupation of Liz Blake, who could have been a schoolteacher or a bank teller, but in a story where a woman searching for sex is murdered, what better hero than a sex worker? How appropriate that Kate’s husband is exactly the type of man with which Liz so often works. And while Kate’s husband isn’t interested in the needs of his sexual partner, Liz reciprocates this particular theme as someone who is only interested in the needs of her sexual partners. Liz, the expert on the needs of others, becomes empowered to find Kate’s killer. Liz, the sex worker — not the schoolteacher or the bank teller — is a hero. Liz’s role is emphasized in the final moments of the film that finds her waking in terror in the very bed in which Kate was having all that unsatisfying sex. Kate’s marital bed — curiously missing Kate’s husband, but involving Peter as a comfort to Liz—represents the thematic stakes of the movie. The prostitute is the sacrificial lamb of chilly sex, making Liz not only the hero of the film, but the Patron Saint of passion.

The killer’s confused sexual identity certainly adds to the film’s sexually charged dynamic, but seems to be employed mostly as a red herring device. Kate’s murderer is driven by the male side of jealously, but acts as a female. It seems that a true case of sexual identity crisis would work better if the killer were a woman killing as a man. In the case of what occurs, the psychological implications lean more into a dual identity disorder. The killer’s motivation and identity crisis are particularly interesting because the script for this film was originally written for CRUISING (1980) until that project went to William Friedkin. De Palma repurposed the script into DRESSED TO KILL.

DRESSED TO KILL is presented in Ultra High Definition on 4K UHD disc by Kino Lorber. New and legacy supplementary features, including multiple interviews and documentaries, are featured on a bonus Blu-ray disc. The UHD disc also contains a new commentary by film critic and author Maitland McDonagh.

Brian De Palma is eager to let audiences know what a Hitchcock fan he is, almost to the point of overdoing it. DRESSED TO KILL is textbook De Palma and holds up as one of the director’s best films. Here, De Palma isn’t interested in satisfying anyone’s need to solve a murder so much as he’s looking to thrill with good old-fashioned sex and violence with a troubling twist that’ll have you hankerin’ for a stick of Doublemint gum.

 

 

When he’s not working as a Sasquatch stand-in for sleazy European films, Lucas Hardwick spends time writing film essays and reviews for We Belong Dead and Screem magazines. Lucas also enjoys writing horror shorts and has earned Quarterfinalist status in the Killer Shorts and HorrOrigins screenwriting contests. You can find Lucas’ shorts on Coverfly.

 Ape caricature art by Richard Smith.