Review #1,400: 'This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse' (1967)

The idea of going bigger and bolder when tackling the sequel to a surprise hit is nothing new, as evidenced by Jose Mojica Marins' follow-up to cult Brazilian horror classic At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul. The first film managed to achieve cult status in its native country and with anybody lucky enough to see it elsewhere in the world, so director, co-writer and lead star Marins managed to bag a noticeably larger budget and used this to further explore the darkest regions of his mind. The result - the wonderfully-titled This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse - is little more than a shameless re-hash of the previous story, but as a piece of psychedelic gothic horror, it manages to outshine its predecessor in every way. At the end of Midnight, Marins' Ze do Caixao, or 'Coffin Joe', was left for dead by supernatural forces. But now he's back, and more determined than ever to find the perfect bride to carry his child.

While the villagers hid in fear of Joe last time around, they have since grown weary of his superior attitude and suspect him of the many disappearances that took place in their community. However, without sufficient evidence to bring him to trial, Joe is released to carry on with his undertaker duties and his search for the mother of his future son. Assisted this time by a hunchback named Bruno (Jose Lobo), Joe imprisons some of the village's most beautiful young ladies and tests them in order to prove their worthiness. Sadly, the test involves an army of spiders, and while one woman, Marcia (Nadia Freitas), remains calm, the others panic and are thrown into a pit to be killed by snakes. While Marcia is deemed unsuitable to bear his child, she is employed as a spy while Joe sets out to seduce the beautiful Laura (Tina Wohlers), the daughter of a local colonel who shares Joe's twisted outlook and logic.

Marins only stepped into the role of Coffin Joe when the original actor dropped out before the first film started production, but this proved to be a stroke of luck as it's difficult to imagine anybody else donning the top hat, neatly-trimmed beard and grotesque, talon-like fingernails. Joe is more cunning this time around, using his wits to frame a local strongman for the murders and to escape some violent confrontations. A curse placed upon him by one of his victims slowly drives him mad, leading to one of the film's most exceptional set-pieces. In his dreams, Joe journeys into hell, a cesspit of cruelty and torture shot in bold colour (the rest of the picture is grainy black-and-white). Bloody limbs and body parts emerge from the stone walls and poor souls are whipped and beaten continuously is a never-ending carousel of savagery. It's a nightmare that even terrifies Joe, and this segment provides a disturbing window into Marins' imagination. This second entry into the Coffin Joe series moves a mile-a-minute, offering everything from phoney-looking backdrops to smoke-machine special effects as it touches on almost every taboo imaginable, but this excess is all part of its charm, and what makes the world of Ze do Caixao so unique.


Directed by: José Mojica Marins
Starring: José Mojica Marins, Tina Wohlers, Nadia Freitas, Antonio Fracari, Jose Lobo
Country: Brazil

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,379: 'Torture Garden' (1967)

Just like their main rival Hammer Films, British production company Amicus Productions was attempting to conquer the lucrative horror market in the 1960s and 70s. While Hammer found success with their literary properties such as Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolf Man, Amicus found a niche in portmanteau films; anthology tales containing multiple stories, with each featuring one of the hapless chumps gathered together for the opening scenes. The first was Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, directed by Freddie Francis and starring Peter Cushing, and Terror's moderate success led to Torture Garden, with both director and star returning. We open at a fairground sideshow, where showman Dr. Diablo (Burgess Meredith) is inviting customers into his tent for some cheap thrills. When the group fail to be impressed by Diablo's shtick, he dares them behind the curtain where more terrifying revelations await them. It will cost them an extra five bob though.

Naturally, the group's curiosity gets the better of them, and they proceed behind the curtain. Awaiting them is a motionless fortune teller (Clytie Jessop) holding a pair of shears. Stare into the shears, Diablo tells them, and their destiny will appear before them. First up is Colin (Michael Bryant), who holds back his rich uncle's (Maurice Denham) medicine as he lays dying in the hope of finding out where his dough is hidden. The uncle dies however, so Colin searches for the loot. What he stumbles upon is a demonic cat who demands murder in exchange for gold coins. Next is Carla (Beverly Adams), a Hollywood up-and-comer who steals her best friend's date for the night, and winds up at the table of big time producer Eddie Storm (John Phillips) and heartthrob actor Bruce Benton (Robert Hutton). Benton has been around for years but hasn't seemed to have aged a day. She soon discovers his secret and the reason why stars of the silver screen maintain their youthful beauty. The third story, seen through the eyes of Dorothy (Barbara Ewing), tells of her doomed romance with concert pianist Leo (John Standing), and how their relationship comes under threat when Leo's piano becomes jealous with murderous rage.

Torture Garden saves the best story for last, and features two screen heavyweights in Jack Palance and Peter Cushing. In The Man Who Collected Poe, Palance plays Poe enthusiast Ronald, who visits renowned Poe collector and the possessor of the greatest screen name ever, Lancelot Canning. Canning has collected everything from the great writer's possessions to his actual manuscripts, but Ronald notices that some of these unpublished writings have been scribbled on 1966 paper. Like all anthology films, some stories work better than others. The first three segments range from passable to downright terrible, with the third part, Mr. Steinway, proving the most ridiculous and forgettable. Amicus would go on to make more, such as The House That Dripped Blood, Tales from the Crypt and The Vault of Horror, and Torture Garden may just be the most disposable of the bunch. It's worth seeing for Palance and Cushing trying to out-ham each other in what is the only truly engrossing story of the bunch, and Burgess Meredith has fun in what is essentially a re-hash of his Penguin character from the Adam West Batman television series. As a complete film, it's both too camp to be scary and not camp enough to be charming.


Directed by: Freddie Francis
Starring: Burgess Meredith, Jack Palance, Peter Cushing, Michael Bryant, Beverly Adams, Barbara Ewing, Michael Ripper, Robert Hutton
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,139: 'Quatermass and the Pit' (1967)

Hammer Films have a lot to thank writer Nigel Kneale and his most popular character Bernard Quatermass for. When the BBC originally broadcast The Quatermass Experiment to a terrified audience, Hammer producer Anthony Hinds saw the potential for a movie adaptation and quickly snapped up the rights. At the time, Hammer were enjoying modest success making low-budget second features, but 1955's The Quatermass Xperiment (named so to highlight the X rating dished out by the BBFC), known as The Creeping Unknown in the U.S., became a hit and put the company's name on the cinematic map. Quatermass 2 (a.k.a. Enemy From Space) followed shortly after, and the rest is history.

It seems like they were saving the best for last, and waited a whopping 10 years to deliver it. When skeletal remains are dug up during an extension to the London Underground, Palaeontologist Dr. Mathew Roney (James Donald) is called in, who concludes that the remains are that of an ancient race of 'apemen', possibly from 5 million years ago. Bernard Quatermass (Andrew Keir) disagrees however, and when further digging reveals a large metallic object, he believes it may be of alien origin. Colonel Breen (Game of Thrones' Julian Glover) insists that it is an unexploded bomb from World War II, and refutes Quatermass' claims. As the mystery unfolds, the discovery may lead to shocking revelations regarding man's evolution, and one that we are not ready to face.

Quatermass and the Pit may feature some incredibly dated effects, but this is sci-fi as complex and intellectual as 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968); a film it is often compared to. Based on the six-part series, Pit's main issue is the difficulty in condensing hours' worth of material into a 98-minute movie, hitting the audience with one theory and revelation after another. But great sci-fi is primarily built on a singular great idea, and this is up there with the best. While the twists and turns are often a struggle to keep up with, the frantic pace created by the lack of running time means that we're kept on the edge of our seats for the duration. Keir is also an improvement on American Brian Donlevy (who played the professor in the previous two films), infusing Quatermass with warmth and a distinct Britishness.


Directed by: Roy Ward Baker
Starring: Andrew Keir, James Donald, Barbara Shelley, Julian Glover
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,090: 'The War Wagon' (1967)

There's a sense of overwhelming square-jawed machismo running through the action-packed western The War Wagon. Playing to the barrel-chested strengths of Golden Age superstars John Wayne and Kirk Douglas, the film goes about its business with a lack of fuss, packing in everything from chaotic saloon brawls, quick-draws and comedy-tinged bickering between its two towering stars, before climaxing with an exciting little set-piece involving the armoured beast of the title. This is the kind of old-fashioned western that inspires comments of "they don't make 'em like that anymore."

Taw Jackson (Wayne) returns to his home town after a stretch in prison. His presence is immediately noticed by corrupt businessman Frank Pierce (Bruce Cabot) who, three years earlier, framed Taw for a crime and confiscated his land in the process. The land turned out to be full of gold, and Taw wants his piece. He plans to steal a shipment of gold being transported in a 'war wagon', a heavily-armoured stagecoach fitted with a steerable Gatling gun on its top, and rounds up a crew of trusted misfits to help him carry out his plan. The final piece of the puzzle is skilled gun-for-hire Lomax (Douglas), the man who played a key role in sending Taw to prison years earlier while in the employ of Pierce. Needing his muscle as well as his skills as a safe-cracker, the two strike up a reluctant friendship and mutual respect, despite their clashing personalities.

Working together for the third time in as many years after In Harm's Way (1965) and Cast a Giant Shadow (1966), Wayne and Douglas have an easy-going chemistry, with Wayne playing the righteous, no-nonsense frontiersman, while Douglas gets to have more fun as the lovable scamp, flirting with anything that moves and leaping onto his horse in various showboating ways. Director Burt Kennedy - who 24 years later would throw cinematic acid in our face with Suburban Commando - has no problem handling these huge matinee idols, and delivers a handsome-looking genre piece. While the film's simplicity and lack of ambition to be anything other than a piece of entertainment doesn't damage the film, it prevents it from being great. But if you're looking for an easy-going 90 minutes, The War Wagon doesn't disappoint.


Directed by: Burt Kennedy
Starring: John Wayne, Kirk Douglas, Howard Keel, Robert Walker Jr., Bruce Cabot
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,075: '2 or 3 Things I Know About Her' (1967)

Shot back-to-back with Made in U.S.A. (his farewell to ex-wife Anna Karina), 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her is one of Jean-Luc Godard most visually arresting, insightful and personal films. Inspired by an article in Le Nouvel Observateur about housewives prostituting themselves in Paris to fund their consumerist lifestyles, Godard uses this as the foundation to explore many other themes throughout the film, tackling everything from philosophy, politics, the ongoing Vietnam War, sexuality and, probably most important of all, France itself (the 'Her' of the title).

There is little plot to the film, and instead Godard uses every film-making technique in his arsenal to take the audience on a journey through the Paris suburbs, having his characters delve into rambling monologues, often responding to questions or regurgitating lines fed through an ear-piece by Godard himself. The main focus is Juliette (Marina Vlady), who occasionally prostitutes herself so she can buy pretty clothes or perhaps just to relieve herself of the boredom of the consumerist lifestyle, while her husband Robert (Roger Monsoret) listens to speeches on the radio regarding America's involvement in Vietnam.

It's with his over-simplified characterisation of Juliette that 2 or 3 Things fails to hit the mark. She is beautiful and intelligent, but seems to only truly love shopping or catching the eye of a handsome man in a cafe. There's little of the free-spirited charisma that Karina embodied in her various roles under Godard, but perhaps that's the point. Themes are often explored with a remarkable lack of subtlety, with the director's obvious opposition to the illegal war in Vietnam cropping up many times throughout the film, with photographs of victims of the war spliced into a rather silly scene involving an 'American' photographer (with a heavy French accent) and his odd fetish with placing bags over ladies heads and having them act out a routine.

Far more impressive are the visuals, with the celebrated shot of a swirling espresso while Godard whispers about his own inadequacy being the most memorable image, and the sheer ambition of a project shot so quickly. Godard is both criticised and adorned for being simply too intellectual and obtuse for film, and 2 or 3 Things is one of the greatest examples of his unwillingness to craft a digestible film for his select audience. The dialogue is often wonderful and poetic, yet sometimes it's rambling nonsense, spoken by characters who have no place in the story, almost as if Godard got bored and moved his camera to a conversation he found more interesting. It's both frustrating and fascinating to see a director of such singular vision, and while there is little of the excitement and energy of his early New Wave work, 2 or 3 Things is an experience like no other.


Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard
Starring: Marina Vlady, Anny Duperey, Roger Montsoret, Raoul Lévy
Country: France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #988: 'Entranced Earth' (1967)

Following his fascinating portrayal of outlaw Antonio das Mortes and the dying days of banditry, Black God, White Devil (1964), Brazilian director Glauber Rocha - only 28 at the time - made the dazzling, deliberately contradictory and admittedly plodding Entranced Earth, a kaleidoscopic satire of politics in Latin America and the mad dictators who seemed to delight their people only to oppress them once elected. Filmed with the free-styling vigour of the French New Wave, Entranced Earth is often exhausting but consistently breathtaking.

Told through the eyes of poet and journalist Paulo Martins (Jardel Filho), we first encounter him pleading angrily with governor Felipe Vieira (Jose Lewgoy) to fight back in the midst of a social uprising against his administration. We flash back to learn that they were once friends, with Paulo offering his support during the election process, only to see the the promises Vieira campaigned on go out the window as the people go hungry. Vieira's political opponent, conservative Porfirio Diaz (Paulo Autran), was also once Paulo's friend, and has spent his life in luxury away from public view until a chance to rule turns him into a raving, yet highly charismatic, lunatic.

Entranced Earth is quite a confusing film. It strides along shifting back-and-forth in time and between various characters, and the kinetic, in-your-face camerawork makes it difficult at times to decipher just what the hell is going on. As a time capsule and a piece of experimental film-making, it is fascinating and deserves to have each of its frames pulled apart and analysed. It's a leftist view that is without any overt political statements, and instead seems to set out to capture the political counter-culture of the 1960's (or the demise of it). By setting it in the fictional country of Eldorado, Glauber avoids commenting on any country in particular, but is clearly making a statement about Latin America. It may leave you confused and worn-out by the end, but it's political cinema with both an edge and a sense of humour, and takes its technical influences from the greats of world cinema.


Directed by: Glauber Rocha
Starring: Jardel Filho, Paulo Autran, José Lewgoy, Glauce Rocha
Country: Brazil

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #985: 'Samurai Rebellion' (1967)

In Masaki Kobayashi's Samurai Rebellion, Toshiro plays a skilled swordsman named Isaburo, a silent type who places honour and family above everything else. In many ways, Isaburo is like the humble American cowboy of old, and the Japanese samurai movies themselves share many of the same qualities of the Western - an almost mythical historical setting where good battles bad, albeit often on a larger scale. Yet the samurai movies seem infinitely more complex beneath the surface, satirising a time where feudal lords reigned over vast areas of land and the common-folk and nobles were kept in line by social rigidity.

Isaburo has lived most of his life by this code. Having suffered in silence following years being henpecked by his wife who he married on the order of his daimyo, he has nonetheless proven himself to be the greatest swordsman in the land, winning the respect of his superiors in the process. It is because of this reputation that his son Yogoro (Go Kato) is chosen as the husband for their lords ex-concubine Lady Ichi (Yoko Tsukasa), who had previously given birth to a potential heir but now banished from her lords castle after disgracing herself. Isaburo reluctantly accepts the proposal and the marriage surprisingly turns out to be a loving one. But when his heir dies unexpectedly and Ichi's child moves next in line, the lord demands that Ichi be returned to the castle. Yogoro refuses and, moved by their true love, Isaburo takes a stand next to his son.

Even when they aren't inspired by the Bard, these types of movies always have a Shakespearian quality. As all the pieces are carefully moved into place for the final showdown, Samurai Rebellion builds towards inevitable Greek tragedy. There are no huge Kurosawa-esque battles here, but plenty of inner turmoil as Isaburo wrestles with obeying his liberty-taking ruler and standing for what he knows is right. After years of tending to his clans armoury (this is set during the peaceful Edo period), Isaburo gleefully cries out that he has never felt so alive. The finale is a bloody set-piece that demonstrates Mifune's natural skill with a blade as Isaburo lets loose, and is the perfect ending to a film built on hushed glances and political manoeuvring. One of the finest examples of its genre.


Directed by: Masaki Kobayashi
Starring: Toshirô Mifune, Yôko Tsukasa, Gô Katô, Tatsuyoshi Ehara
Country: Japan

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #982: 'The Jungle Book' (1967)

Listed as number 19 in the Walt Disney Animated Classics series, The Jungle Book is one of the House of Mouse's most beloved films. Loosely based on Rudyard Kipling's book of the same name, Disney demanded a sure-fire hit after the underwhelming response to The Sword in the Stone (1963) and removed any hints of the darkness of Kipling's text in favour of a more child-friendly experience. The last movie to be produced by Walt before his death in 1966, the result is one of the most effortlessly charming films he ever presided over. Featuring possibly the most memorable and catchy song in Disney's history (Bare Necessities), he at least he went out on a high note.

Mowgli (voiced by director Wolfgang Reitherman's son, Bruce) is a young orphan boy who, after being discovered in the deep jungle in a basket by Bagheera the Panther (Sebastian Cabot), is raised for the next 10 years in a wolf pack. After learning that the monstrous, man-eating tiger Shere Khan (a wonderful George Sanders) has returned to the jungle, the pack decide that Mowgli must be taken to the nearby 'man-village' to be with own people for his own safety. Bagheera volunteers to escort him to safety, but he soon becomes frustrated with Mowgli's insistence on staying in the jungle and leaves him the hands of Baloo (Phil Harris), a laid-back bear who promises Mowgli to never take him to the man-village.

With animation far below the standard set by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and a group of insufferable vultures modelled on the Beatles, The Jungle Book remains great despite its flaws by being so damn heart-warming. The final scene, as Mowgli gazes upon one of his own kind for the first time, is truly wonderful in its unsentimental simplicity. The music, by the Sherman Brothers and Terry Gilkyson, is one of Disney's best soundtracks, with Louis Prima's jazzy I Wanna Be Like You proving particularly toe-tapping. Cabot and Harris are fun as Mowgli's bickering escorts, but Sanders and Sterling Holloway - as the hypnotising Kaa the Snake - steal the show as the bad guys. One of Disney's very best.


Directed by: Wolfgang Reitherman
Voices: Phil Harris, Sebastian Cabot, Bruce Reitherman, George Sanders, Sterling Holloway, Louis Prima, J. Pat O'Malley
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #910: 'Oedipus Rex' (1967)

Pier Paolo Pasolini's Oedipus Rex is a relatively faithful adaptation of Sophocles' Greek tragedy Oedipus the King. Beginning in 1920's Italy, a baby boy is born and is instantly envied by the displaced father. The setting then changes to ancient times, where a baby boy is being carried out into the desert by a servant to be left out to die from exposure. He is eventually picked up by a shepherd, who takes him back to the King and Queen of Corinth, who adopt the youngster and love him like one of their own. The child grows up to be Edipo (Pasolini's frequent collaborator Franco Citti), an arrogant youth who wishes to see the world for himself. And so he set out on the road to Thebes, the place of his birth.

Plagued by a prophecy that dictates he is destined to murder his father and marry his mother, Edipo is a tortured but intuitive soul. He murders a rich man and his guards after they demand he clear a path for them on the road, and later frees a town from the clutches of a Sphinx by solving its riddle. Staying true to his own recognisable style, Pasolini tells the story of Oedipus not with a sweeping narrative, but through a collection of comedic, violent and often surreal vignettes, the most bizarre and ultimately thrilling being the scene in which Edipo murders the guards. He runs away from them as they chase him, before charging at them one by one and cutting them down. It's a moment without any real motivational insight, offering but a glimpse into Edipo's damaged psyche.

Post-Freud, the story of Oedipus cannot be experienced without reading into the incestuous and patricidal undertones. But these themes are less explored by Pasolini than the idea of Edipo being ultimately responsible for his own downfall. Rather than the inevitability of fate, Edipo creates his own path, committing murder on a whim and marrying while blinded by ambition. For a bulk of the film, Pasolini keeps the audience at arm's length, favouring his own brushes of surrealism over a traditional narrative. While this may be occasionally frustrating - the pre-war scenes than book-end the film seem out of place and confusing - Citti's wide-eyed performance is a fantastic distraction, and the Moroccan scenery helps provide a ghostly, Biblical atmosphere as well as a beautiful backdrop.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Franco Citti. Silvana Mangano, Alida Valli, Carmelo Bene, Julian Beck
Country: Italy/Morocco

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #819: 'Day of Anger' (1967)

Lee Van Cleef has always been an unsung hero. Although an instantly recognisable face with those cat-like eyes and chiselled cheekbones, there will be few casual film-goers who will be able to name many films of his outside of For a Few Dollars More (1965) and The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (1966). In Day of Anger, he may not take the lead role, but his Frank Talby, the dangerous yet charismatic gunfighter who wanders into town one day, steals the screen and your attention thanks to Van Cleef's formidable presence, proving that he was one of cinema's greatest character actors.

In the small town of Clifton, bastard-born street sweeper Scott Mary (Euro-western legend Giuliano Gemma) is ridiculed and bullied due to his social status. When Frank Talby strolls into Clifton on the back of his horse, he sides with Scott, and ends up shooting a man in his defence. When Frank leaves, Scott follows in the hope of being taught how to be a great gunfighter. Frank agrees, but has some brutal lessons to teach him. But they find themselves returning to Clifton in the search of money owed to Frank by Wild Jack (Once Upon a Time in the West's (1968) Al Mulock), where Frank hopes to deal some swift justice and make a mark of his own.

A protege of Sergio Leone, this was director Tonino Valerri's second movie in the chair, and he certainly knows how to shoot a western. It doesn't share the extreme close-up's of Leone's work, but builds it's fair share of tension, climaxing in an inevitable yet thrilling climax between teacher and student. The film is superbly filmed, backed by a ridiculously catchy score by Riz Ortolani from which the title song was used in Django Unchained (2012). But the film's biggest boast is in the performances of Van Cleef and Gemma, the former proving he can play as good an anti-hero as any of his peers, and the latter convincing throughout his massive character shift. Highly recommended.


Directed by: Tonino Valerii
Starring: Lee Van Cleef, Giuliano Gemma, Walter Rilla, Al Mulock
Country: Italy/West Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #803: 'Mr. and Mrs. Kabal's Theatre' (1967)

This simply-drawn, nightmarish and often hilarious film was Polish director Walerian Borowczyk's first full-length feature and the last he would do using animation. It tells the simple story of a voyeuristic, diminutive husband and his iron-fisted wife, as they spend what appears to be a holiday in a desolate land filled with pesky butterflies and strange beasts. It is ultimately Borowczyk's idea of the mundaneness and repetitiveness of marriage, played out in a playful yet sometimes unnerving way.

Mrs. Kabal is a terrifying creation - well-endowed and dominant, speaking in a bizarre fashion that sounds like a human voice filtered through a blender. Mr. Kabal is the sympathetic one - running around like a headless chicken and obeying his wife's every need, even at one point entering her body to rid it of some unwanted butterflies. Every now and then he runs off to spy with his binoculars, always finding a semi-naked beauty much to the annoyance of an ever-present old man, who waves his fist in anger.

Not much is going on here in terms of narrative, and this causes the film to feel longer than it should be. There's only so many visual gags you can pull of with the omnipresent butterflies, who routinely fly into things and get on Mrs. Kabal's nerves. But for the most part, this is very funny stuff, and although the animation is crude, there is a surrealist quality to it all. Borowczyk would go on to make many highly-acclaimed and controversial live-action features after this, so this is a gentle introduction into the mind of the Polish auteur, and a cynical portrayal of the sanctity of marriage.


Directed by: Walerian Borowczyk
Voices: Louisette Rousseau, Pierre Collet
Country: France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #545: 'The Viking Queen' (1967)

Never a company to let something like historical accuracy get in the way of some good ol' fashioned blood shed and some barely covered breasts, Hammer Studios went all-out anachronistic in 1967, telling the tale of The Viking Queen, Salinas (Carita), a British druid who was not a Viking and seemed to worship the Greek god Zeus. It's a rather dull tale about Salinas' love affair with invading Roman general Justinian (Don Murray), whose truce causes both the Druids and the Romans to heavily oppose it and wage war against each other. With Justinian raising taxes of the rich merchants, and lowering them for the poor small-folk, a plot is forged between the merchants and the usurping Roman Octavian (Andrew Keir) to overthrow Justinian and conquer the Druids.

Shot with an almost sickening lucidity, The Viking Queen is certainly an example of Hammer's strives for visual lushness and oily-skinned beauties, possibly to compensate for the sheer monotony on show. This was Finnish fashion model Cairta's only starring role (she appeared in small roles in a couple of other productions), and although she certainly looks the part (in terms of what Hammer were obviously looking for), her inexperience shows and zones in a rather flat performance. The wildly historical inaccuracy can certainly be forgiven if the film was entertaining, such as it was in Hammer's Rasputin The Mad Monk (1966), but there is nothing going for this film apart from the odd amusing camp performance, and the sight of Nita Lorraine's (credited as Nubian Girl Slave) shiny flesh. Strictly for Hammer completists and those bored on a Sunday afternoon.


Directed by: Don Chaffey
Starring: Don Murray, Carita, Donald Houston, Andrew Keir, Adrienne Corri
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #139: 'Herostratus' (1967)

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Review #118: 'Something Weird' (1967)

Well, it was bound to happen to one of us eventually. I've recently been unable to play any form of disc/DVD, which has made me look elsewhere to find some filmic pleasure. Fortunately, youtube.com has given me the gift of a wide selection of middle-rate/utterly bad films (although surprisingly, they have some quite extraordinary cinematic classics such as Benjamin Christensen's Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages (1922), and F. W. Murnau's Faust (1926). Like an excited child in a video shop, I looked for the selection within the genre of horror. After all, this is the best place to look, when you want some bad-yet-possibly-interesting-cinema. I fell upon this release by the infamous 'Godfather of gore', Herschell Gordon Lewis.

This is not one of Gordons' gore-filled movies. It is an attempt at a story of psychic abilities. Cronin Mitchell (Tony McCabe) is in a freak electrical accident that leaves half his face disfigured. Whilst Mitchell (Mitch, as he likes to be called by the 'ladies') is angry at the fate of his 'beautiful face', he has developed incredible powers of ESP (extra-sensory perception - the sixth sense). After leaving the hospital with no apparent possibility of plastic surgery to re-instate the 'normal' face, Mitch begins a business of psychic readings. This is where he encounters The Hag (Mudite Arums).

The Hag proposes to Mitch a bargain, that if he loves her, she will restore his face. After refusing, Cronin's face is restored anyway. So begins his fate. For he is completely controlled by The Hag, who now disguises herself as a beautiful 'assistant' (Ellen Parker) to his travelling psychic. Whilst he has his extraordinary powers of ESP, the government want him and the local police desire his assistance in a murder case, where seven woman have been brutally slaughtered.

Mitch is inaugurated into the societal traps of the 'connected' police detective. He has an almost celebrity status. This is pure post-Psycho filmmaking. Mitch is quite obviously investigating murder that he himself has done, but is unable to remember. The Hag has utter control over his memory and his actions. She moves on to her next victim even as Mitch is stumbling through his nightmare. We enter psycho-babble through analytical trappings of 'split-personality' etc. Therefore, he is utterly controlled by his unconscious-self.

Whilst the seeming twist might give this cheap affair some form of narrative gravitas, the film surely doesn't. After all, it is an H G Lewis picture. Yes, everything about a Lewis film is inept. The acting, cinematography, editing, writing are all so terrible. But for some reason, I am utterly drawn into this garish Eastman colourised world. This doesn't have the blood-red charms of Blood Feast (1963) and Two-Thousand Maniacs (1964); it doesn't even hold the absurdly laconic pace of these dull-yet-entertaining films. It is a incredible bore to watch. Perhaps if you created an anthology movie of Lewis-like vignettes, then there may be a two-hour movie there (the sordid lives of distracted Americans perhaps), but to hold out a 20 minute premise in an 80 minute feature, is not the best way to spend that time. I have to say, I still adore the cinema of Herschell Gordon Lewis - up there with the sexploitation magnetism of (the better filmmaker) Russ Meyer.

Directed by: Herschell Gordon Lewis
Starring: Tony McCabe, Elizabeth Lee, William Brooker, Mudite Arums
Country: USA

Rating: *

Marc Ivamy

Review #16: 'Privilege' (1967)

Made on the cusp of 'swinging' London/Britain, this rather prescient story of the states use of popular culture as a form of mass control (in this instance, pop music), and the abuse of a single human in place of controlling everyone else of the same age group, is a bizarrely forgotten piece of British cinema. Even the presence of two well-known figures of the time, did not seem to help this piece; these being Paul Jones (famous as front man for pop group Manfred Mann), and Jean Shrimpton, who is said to have been the world's first supermodel.

Steven Shorter (Paul Jones), is "the most dangerously loved entertainer in the world". Arriving back to the UK, after a successful tour of America, it is decided, by the collection of his entourage, that they need to change Steven's image from anguished rebel (who in the opening song, is beaten by prison guards, locked in a cage, and pleading to his hysterical fans to set him free), to a born-again Christian. That is to repent all of his sins to his adoring fans, changing their attitudes, making them fit for society. This culminates in a Riefenstahl-like rally.

Shorter walks through the film in a child-like way, petulantly giving short answers, and looking to the floor. In public and in photo shoots, he visibly winces, screwing his face up, as if in severe distress or pain. He is utterly and helplessly controlled. A puppet used by the state; by the Christian church. Vanessa Ritchie (Shrimpton), is commissioned to paint a portrait of Steven. So begins a dialogue between the characters, as Vanessa attempts to break through the closed Steven, and to teach him that there is more to the world, he doesn't have to be a prisoner. The portrait we see later (we are unaware if the piece is completed) is haunting. Like Jones' character it is not complete, the surface of the canvas marked but not whole.

Directed by British filmmaker Peter Watkins, it was a progression of his experiments mixing documentary and drama. Whilst working for the BBC, Watkins made such a realistically, and horrific 'docudrama' about a possible nuclear attack on Britain, and the visceral effects of this, that The War Game (1965) was immediately deemed too dangerous and horrible a programme that it was not shown until 1985. Later, in 1971, Watkins released the American-set Punishment Park, which again plays with the conventions of both dramatic and documentary cinema, to tell of a not-too-distant dystopian future, where subversives are rounded up in detention camps, and made to either surrender or to undergo major physical and mental forms of torture in the heat of the desert. Watkins is quite often (particularly his earlier films) prescient in the political landscape of the western world. Punishment Park, could be seen to mirror recent events in our history, Guantanamo Bay 'detention centre' springs to mind. Many would have to make this similar decision.

Watkins has subsequently blurred line of drama and documentary further. His film La Commune (1999), about a collective of radicals during the Franco-Prussian war, Watkins has the film crew interviewing the 'character's'. Whilst Privilege is not a perfect movie, it certainly has it's charms. The film is also very funny at moments. This is provided by the eccentric cast of the pop-machine entourage. British cinema was receiving a lot of international attention, as the beginning of the 'summer of love' made the UK a focal point for fashion and popular culture. Michelangelo Antonioni's Blow Up (1966), and Truffaut's Fahrenheit 451 (also 1966), only perpetuated the 'Cool-Britannia' philosophy of the time. I believe Privilege should have its place along with these, and other British/European films of the time, and remembered for being a wildly interesting, and important British film - both sociologically and politically.


Directed by: Peter Watkins
Starring: Paul Jones, Jean Shrimpton, Mark London
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy