Review #1,440: 'Eye of the Needle' (1981)

Ken Follett's novel Eye of the Needle was a huge hit for the Welsh author when it was first published in 1978, mixing spy thrills and an unlikely romance as the Allies were preparing for D-Day during World War II. The film adaptation, which followed just three years later, simplifies Follet's text to fit a more comfortable three-act structure, and to deliver a more exciting thriller to audiences who were, at the time, being hit with spy movies left, right and centre. Eye of the Needle isn't your typical adventure yarn however, placing a dead-eyed Nazi spy at the centre of the story and throwing him into the arms of a lonely wife. The result is a thrilling, if often contrived film that is happy to toss logic out of the window as long as it offers the chance for another tense stand-off. The plot eventually lays the outcome of the entire war at the feet of the two leads alone on a remote Scottish island, and somehow gets away with it.

It's London, 1940, and an easy-going Brit named Henry Faber (Donald Sutherland) chats with a friend as young men around them head off to war. Nobody yet knows it, but this charming Englishman poses a greater threat to the Allies' war effort than any enemy overseas, as he is actually Heinrich Faber, a Nazi spy known as 'the Needle' who is transmitting information back to his superiors in the Fatherland. When his nice old landlady accidentally catches him speaking German into a radio, Faber brutally stabs her in the belly with a stiletto, the weapon of choice that earned him his nickname. Fast forward four years later, and British Intelligence are finally on to him, and must track him down before he reveals their country's biggest secret to the enemy. Faber has obtained photographs of an airfield full of fake plywood planes, designed to convince Hitler and his spies that the invasion will arrive in Calais, and not the beaches of Normandy, giving the Nazis a chance to end the war swiftly and brutally. However, on his journey back home, Faber's boat is smashed onto the rocks by high wind, washing him up on the nearby Storm Island, which has a population of 4.

The early scenes are juxtaposed with the happy wedding of Lucy (Kate Nelligan) and David (Christopher Cazenove), a young couple whose special day comes to an abrupt end when they crash their car on the way to their honeymoon. The accident results in David having his legs amputated, causing him to grow bitter and angry, choosing to spend most nights getting drunk with the alcoholic lighthouse keeper as his wife looks after their son and longs for affection. It's here that the two stories meet, with Faber washing up on the island and playing the role of mysterious stranger. There's an erotic scene between Faber and Lucy that is now dated and rather awkward, but mostly their dangerous romance is developed with care. They are stripped down as two lost souls both physically and mentally trapped, and the two leads are terrific. Faber is still dedicated to the cause however, and, as he coldly dispatches anyone that stands in his way, director Richard Marquand never lets us forget his evil nature. Yet the way the plot is forced into place to allow these strangers to cross paths is clunky to say the least. It seems strange that Faber couldn't simply radio the information back to Germany before he sets out to deliver the physical evidence, and seemingly clever characters do incredibly stupid things to allow themselves to be stuck with the needle. It's worth seeing for the fantastic central performances and the down-and-dirty atmosphere, but Eye of the Needle doesn't do quite enough to stand out in the plethora of spy movies from the same era.


Directed by: Richard Marquand
Starring: Donald Sutherland, Kate Nelligan, Ian Bannen, Christopher Cazenove
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,119: 'Deadly Blessing' (1981)

Like many others of my generation, I first encountered the work of Wes Craven with Scream (1996), which went on to influence a whole new wave of teen slasher movies that everybody thought they had seen die off in the early 90's. Shortly after, I watched A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), and realised just how influential the horror giant was across his lucrative career. Of course, he was making his mark even before this with the notorious The Last House on the Left (1972), a film inspired by Ingmar Bergman that remains shocking even to this day. With Craven's passing just over a year ago, I've been busy rounding up all of those forgotten minor works, and Deadly Blessing, made in between TV movie Stranger in Our House (1978) and Swamp Thing (1982), is one of his oddest.

On a remote farm named 'Our Blessing', couple Martha (Maren Jensen) and Jim Schmidt (Douglas Barr) live amongst a rural religious community known as the 'Hiddites'. The Hiddites are similar to the Amish in that they keep to themselves and reject modern technology. Some of the Hiddite youngsters, including the dim-witted William (The Hills Have Eyes' Michael Berryman), are fascinated with the Schmidt's tractor. When Jim, an ex-Hiddite and son of sect leader Isaiah (Ernest Borgnine), is killed in a suspicious incident in the barn, Martha's friends Lana (Sharon Stone) and Vicky (Susan Buckner) join her for company, but more deaths and strange incidents soon occur. Is it the work of the 'Incubus', the demon feared by Isaiah and his followers, or is there a deranged killer on the loose?

Deadly Blessing represents Craven's awkward transition from grimy shockers such as Last House and The Hills Have Eyes (1977) to the more mainstream fare he had such great success with following Elm Street. The film's main issue is that there are too many characters, sub-plots and ideas flying around to form a coherent piece. It never seems to settle on a tone, whether it be all-out supernatural, grounded and dramatic, or giallo-esque. However, the messy style of the movie at least makes for a more interesting movie that it would have been if played completely straight. There are a few nice set-pieces, including the infamous spider-in-the-mouth moment, and some fun performances, including an early role for a gorgeous Sharon Stone and an over-the-top Ernest Borgnine, the latter harshly 'winning' a Razzie for his efforts. Certainly a minor work in Craven's repertoire, but recommended to anyone with a weakness for barmy genre movies.


Directed by: Wes Craven
Starring: Maren Jensen, Sharon Stone, Susan Buckner, Jeff East, Douglas Barr, Ernest Borgnine
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,099: 'The Burning' (1981)

Tony Waylam's The Burning, the first film to be produced by Bob and Harvey Weinstein's Miramax Films, is but one in what seems like an endless churn of stalk-and-slash movies inspired by the low-budget success of John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) and Sean S. Cunningham's Friday the 13th (1980). It performed moderately at the box-office and was panned by the critics, and did little to disguise its desire to replicate the success of Cunningham's newly-established franchise, merely re-hashing the plot in the process. So why now, 35 years after its release, is The Burning so beloved amongst genre fans?

It's difficult to really pinpoint the reason why Waylam's film isn't as insufferable or outright boring as many others from the 'slasher' genre generally are. But for me, I found that the characters, who are little more than your usual horror archetypes, rather enjoyable to be around when they weren't busy getting carved up in the woods. The likes of Jason Alexander, Brian Backer, Fisher Stevens and Holly Hunter appear before they were famous, and are given the job of fleeing from the deformed killer stalking them - here a psychopathic victim of a prank-gone-wrong named Cropsy (Lou David). They are in the woods as part of a canoe trip arranged by Camp Blackfoot leader Todd (Brian Matthews), who is unaware that the camp-fire spook tale he frequently tells is about to become reality.

With a rather likeable bunch at its core, The Burning doesn't really drag when it isn't dishing out scenes of gore, and the performances feel naturalistic. When the gore does come, special effects maestro Tom Savini, having turned down Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981), delivers some of his finest work, naturally landing the film in trouble with the censors. As one of the first films slapped with the 'video nasty' tag, it was always destined to achieve legendary status amongst fans, and the infamous scene of mass murder on a raft, which really had the right-winger media up-in-arms, is extremely well-executed. I doubt I'll ever take to the slasher genre - I find them generally dull, dated, formulaic and misogynistic - and while The Burning certainly contains those elements, it isn't difficult to see why it is still so popular with fans of the genre.


Directed by: Tony Maylam
Starring: Brian Matthews, Leah Ayres, Brian Backer, Larry Joshua, Jason Alexander, Lou David
Country: USA/Canada

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,058: 'Absurd' (1981)

As is the case with many low-budget horror films released numerous times with different cuts and ratings in various different continents, Joe D'Amato's Absurd is known under a wealth of alternative titles. Also known as Horrible, Rosso Sangue and Monster Hunter, the film was labelled as too gruesome for British audiences in the 1980's and found itself on the dreaded Video Nasty List. The most bizarre title to make its way onto its VHS cover is Anthropophagus 2, although the film has little in common with D/Amato's Anthropopogus: The Grim Reaper apart from the lead casting of George Eastman as yet another impossibly strong man-mountain with a fondness for gruesome murder.

The film begins with Mikos (Eastman), a beast of a man with an unnaturally fast healing factor, fleeing a priest. As he tries to escape by scaling a fence, Mikos is impaled on the railing spikes which disembowel him. It is while at the hospital that the doctors discover his amazing ability to heal, but he is soon on the loose after murdering a nurse. The madman is eventually hit by a car driven by Mr. Bennett (Ian Danby), who flees the scene and returns to his wife, son, and bed-ridden daughter Katia (Katya Berger). The family soon finds themselves under attack from Mikos, while police officer Sgt. Engleman (Charles Borromel) and the priest (Edmund Purdom) attempt to hunt down the rampaging savage.

Apart from a couple of entertainingly gory murders (a buzzsaw to the temple and a head in the oven are particular 'highlights'), Absurd suffers from some serious pacing issues. As the story bobbles around between the various characters having inane conversations, the film becomes incredibly boring and short of action. It's debatable as to whether Anthropophagus (1980) or Absurd takes the prize for the most tedious 90 minutes, but I feel that Absurd just edges it. Although Eastman does little more than stumble around with a crazy look in his eyes, he certainly has a presence, but here he is given a disappointingly short amount of screen time. By the time the climax finally arrives, it plods on and on as Katia is forced to learn to walk again to escape the bogeyman, which does not make for exciting viewing. Absurd, indeed.


Directed by: Joe D'Amato
Starring: George Eastman, Charles Borromel, Katya Berger, Edmund Purdom
Country: Italy

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,047: 'Terror Eyes' (1981)

Although it is now lost in the annals of 1980's slasher movies, Terror Eyes, or Night School, has at least one claim to fame. The tale of a motorcycle helmet-wearing killer armed with a kukri blade and a distaste for co-eds was deemed so vile that it was placed on Britain's notorious 'Video Nasty' list and banned. Such is the irony of the video nasty list, Terror Eyes will never be totally forgotten now thanks to Mary Whitehouse and her crusade. And arguably, it shouldn't, as although the film manages to tick off every cliche in the slasher handbook, it delivers a few effectively-staged set-pieces more in common with the giallo genre.

The basic premise is that Boston is under attack from a serial killer dressed head-to-toe in black leather, whose identity is permanently disguised by a motorcycle helmet. The first murder we witness sees a young teacher's aide get her head lopped off after being forced into a rather twisted merry-go-round ride. Educated cop Lt. Judd Austin (Leonard Mann) is the detective assigned to the case, along with his trusted, wise-cracking partner Taj (Joseph R. Sicari). Their investigations lead them to a local college and to the classroom of anthropology professor Vincent Millett (Drew Snyder). Millett is an expert on tribal rituals in Borneo, where the skulls of defeated enemies are often worn as trophies. Austin spots a similarity to the way the victims heads are being removed and left submerged in water, and so investigates Millet and his relationship to his young assistant Eleanor (Rachel Ward) further.

Possibly the most alarming thing about Terror Eyes is not the dodgy effects or lack of plot, but the fact that it was directed by the same guy who gave us Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Ken Hughes. You would never guess it though, there's no sickly sets or questionable Cockney accents here, but Hughes' experience in mainstream Hollywood may be the reason that Terror Eyes feels a slight step above the usual slasher fare. The build-up to the moments of routine butchery are patient and manage to generate a little tension, more akin to Argento than, say, anything found in the Friday the 13th series. But for the most part, this is standard slasher fare, chocked full of awkward cop banter, wooden acting, annoying comic relief, and a bizarre erotic shower scene during which Millet rubs a sort of berry paste all over a moaning Eleanor.


Directed by: Ken Hughes
Starring: Leonard Mann, Rachel Ward, Drew Snyder, Joseph R. Sicari
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #909: 'Mad Max 2' (1981)

In Mad Max (1979), director George Miller showed us a eerie Australia on the verge on some kind of apocalypse. Bikers gangs roamed the desert roads raping and pillaging as they pleased, while a small group of cops did what little they could to keep law and order. Small communities still existed, shops were operational, and institutions still had some sense of organisation, but when Mad Max 2 picks up the story, civilisation as we know it is gone, and thugs in fetish biker gear do as they like. Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson), driven mad by seeing his wife and child slain, drives alone in his suped-up Pursuit Special hunting for what little petrol remains in the world.

It seems he has as little humanity remaining as the mohawked reavers he routinely smashes off the road and executes, until a man known as the Gyro Captain (Bruce Spence) brings a nearby oil refinery to Max's attention. When he investigates, he finds a close-knit community desperately trying to protect what is rightly theirs from a huge gang under the command of a leather-masked brute known as Lord Humungus (Kjell Nilsson) who are laying siege. Max enters the refinery carrying one of their injured, hoping to trade the man for fuel. When the mad dies, so does Max's hopes of getting out there any time soon, and soon the community is turning to Max for help in the hope that he can retrieve a gas tanker capable of carrying their valuable load and lead them to safety.

Mad Max 2's reputation as the one of the greatest action films ever made is not to be taken lightly. Good action should be clear, coherent and, of course, exciting, and the climax of the film, which takes up nearly of a third of the running time, is one of the greatest set-pieces ever committed to celluloid. It's basically one long chase scene, as a variety of cars and trucks converted to be bigger, faster and stronger try to take down the tanker. The stunts are performed so perfectly that it will make you wonder how certain shots were filmed without any fatalities. It works as a western too, with Max playing the role of the silent stranger who unwittingly becomes the hero. It may have the slimmest of plots, but Mad Max 2 is pure energy within a fantastically realised world; a world that has been replicated numerous times but never bettered.


Directed by: George Miller
Starring: Mel Gibson, Bruce Spence, Michael Preston, Vernon Wells
Country: Australia

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #835: 'Thief' (1981)

The 1980's seemed to define what is to be expected of a crime movie. It was an era of machine guns, tooth-picks and body oil, with little attention paid to the all-important details. Michael Mann's Thief was an ultra-slick, ice cool and, most astonishingly, highly realistic alternative, which is very impressive given that this was Mann's feature debut. The film revolves around James Caan's safe-cracker Frank, a career criminal looking for one big score before retiring. We meet him mid-job, using a specially-designed drill to steal the diamonds locked within. We are given little background to his character, but, like the rest of the film, the history is embedded within every frame.

Mann, wanting the film to be as close to real-life as possible, employs real cops and criminals as actors, reversing their roles to further blur the line between the 'good' and 'bad' guys. John Santucci, a recently paroled jewel thief, plays a corrupt cop, and Dennis Farina, in his first movie role, was a real-life ex-cop and here plays a criminal henchman. The idea that the cops and robbers are merely two sides of the same coin was explored further in Mann's 1995 masterpiece Heat. With Thief, it feels like we are thrust into this very real but secret world of crime, where Frank, who works alone when possible or employs his entrusted friend Barry (James Belushi) when necessary, agrees to work for shady crime boss Leo (Robert Prosky, who, along with Belushi and Farina, makes his film debut).

With so much time spent with Frank (he appears in every scene), a lot rests upon Caan's shoulders, and he thankfully delivers what is undoubtedly his greatest performance. He's the typical tough-guy loner, but he brings so much to his character that we see much more in him than a mere brute. In the diner scene, where he seduces cashier Jessie (Tuesday Weld) and lays out his plans to start a family, Caan's marvellous monologue further layers his character. But Thief is also an exciting thriller. Thanks to the plausibility of it's characters, it's easy to become concerned when a spanner is inevitably thrown into Frank's plans. If there's a criticism to be had, then it's in the formulaic plot. But when a film seems to know it's characters so well and is filmed so stylishly by cinematographer Donald E. Thorin, it's hard to avoid becoming completely immersed.

Directed by: Michael Mann

Starring: James Caan, Tuesday Weld, James Belushi, Robert Prosky, Willie Nelson

Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #792: 'Evilspeak' (1981)

With the emergence of everyday computers during the 1980's, came the natural fear of just what they were capable of. Evilspeak may not contain the most ridiculous use of blending technology with the supernatural ever committed to film, but it does demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding of how they actually work. Apparently, you can key in a question or a Latin sentence, and you will receive an answer or interpretation. Of course, with Google now the most omniscient tool since the Almighty himself, computers are now capable of doing just that. In Evilspeak, it is used in an attempt to summon Satan, but how exactly is unclear.

Social outcast Stanley Coopersmith (Clint Howard) is a young cadet at an American military academy, where his chubby appearance, lack of football (soccer) skills, and general idiotic behaviour make him the subject of bullying. Whilst cleaning the church cellar, he comes across the diary of Father Esteban (Richard Moll), a Spanish Satanist who existed during the Dark Ages and who is glimpsed in the opening scenes sacrificing a woman. Using his trusty computer, Stanley interprets the diary and discovers that it contains a recipe to perform a Black Mass - a black magic ritual he plans on using against his classmates.

Similar in subject matter to Brian De Palma's Carrie (1976), Evilspeak fails to engage as De Palma's iconic horror did due to bad writing and a lack of any engaging back-story. Howard is impressive as Stanley, playing the bumbling goon well enough to get him on our side, but for the most part, the film aimlessly and bloodlessly ambles on, occasionally throwing in random supernatural events such as deadly pigs attacking a naked secretary in the shower (naturally). When the climax comes, it is a satisfyingly bizarre collection of blood and guts that cemented it's classification as a 'video nasty', and the effects aren't bad at all. However, this comes too late and Evilspeak never manages to become anything other than an occasionally amusing oddity with an amiable performance from it's lead.


Directed by: Eric Weston
Starring: Clint Howard, R.G. Armstrong, Joe Cortese, Claude Earl Jones
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #655: 'Time Bandits' (1981)

If you were once a young boy (or girl) who enjoyed riding their bike at breakneck speed or got their thrills from wandering off to places you were forbidden to go to, then you will totally get Terry Gilliam's Time Bandits. If adventure and danger were what spurred you on as a child, then you no doubt fantasised about travelling through time and meeting the famous historical figures you learned about whilst falling asleep in history class. Time Bandits is pure Boys Own adventure, making idiots out of the likes of Robin Hood and Napoleon, and even bringing six dwarves along for the ride. The plot is muddled and nonsensical, but the plot is beside the point - arguably just a McGuffin for some childish fun.

It tells the story of eleven year old Kevin (Craig Warnock), who, when not being ignored by his lazy absent-minded parents, spends his time doting on history, particularly Ancient Greece. One night, six dwarves come crashing out of his wardrobe holding a map that they claim show the world's time portals, that they appear to have stolen from the Supreme Being (i.e. God, played at the climax by the wonderful Ralph Richardson). Kevin goes along for the ride, and finds himself meeting Napoleon (Ian Holm) during the Napoleonic Wars, Robin Hood (John Cleese) in the Middle Ages, and King Agamenmon (Sean Connery) in Ancient Greece (amongst others). Meanwhile, in the Fortress of Ultimate Darkness, the technologically obsessed Evil (David Warner) is planning to steal the map and take over the world.

The set design is fantastic in this film, and the main credit should go to that department. The sets look as if constructed from the mind of a child, paying no real attention to historical detail or a 'lived-in' feel - this is all pure fantasy. The film rushes at such a breakneck speed that we don't get to spend enough time with these characters in their times, and this was my main (and only) problem with Time Bandits. Thankfully, these scenes are packed with so much wit by writers Gilliam and Michael Palin (who also appears as the dim-witted romantic Vincent), that it is hard to care too much. This is not Monty Python though, there is humour here for children and adults both, but it's just as funny. John Cleese's over-enthusiastic Robin Hood was a particular stand-out for me.

Gilliam also uses the film to take some sly satirical digs at the emergence of technology, juxtaposing Evil's plan to use computers to carry out his evil deeds alongside Kevin's active imagination and sense of wonder. His parents are bone-idle idiots that get excited at the idea of a microwave cooking their dinner in quick time, and technology is clearly viewed by Gilliam as something that will rot the imagination. This isn't entirely true of course - technology can inspire innovation - but I often see young children staring open mouthed and expressionless at their mobile phones when they should be annoying their parents or getting up to something they shouldn't be, so I can certainly sympathise with Gilliam's concerns. But Time Bandits is mainly about adventure and the wonder of a child's imagination. Funny, manic, and occasionally moving, this is one of the definitive movies about childhood, and how we occasionally long for it.


Directed by: Terry Gilliam
Starring: Craig Warnock, John Cleese, Sean Connery, Shelley Duvall, Katherine Helmond, Ian Holm, Michael Palin, Ralph Richardson, Peter Vaughan, David Warner
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #560: 'Faces of Death II' (1981)

After the huge success of the first Faces of Death film in 1978, John Alan Schwartz wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to capitalise on audience's unquenchable thirst for death and returned to the 'director's' chair in 1981 to make another collection of grisly events. Michael Carr returns once again as our host Dr. Francis B. Gross, this time sporting a shirt and jeans combination, rather than his doctor's jacket (he was fooling nobody). We have more animal slaughter, decomposing bodies, shoot-outs and executions, as well as a large focus on stunt accidents, a fatal boxing match, animal experimentation, and the aftermath of an avalanche.

While the first entry was mainly a collection of badly-filmed and thoroughly unconvincing staged scenes, the sequel has much more real footage, and only the police shoot-out scene, where director Schwartz plays one of the criminals and proves himself to be as useless at acting as he is at directing, is seemingly faked. While the staged scenes was the main factor I criticised from the first film, the distinct lack of them takes the (should I say it?) charm out of the film. The clips are simply thrown in together, lacking the first's narrative structure, taking whatever 'meaning' the FOD series tries to convince us it has and coming across as simply low-rent exploitation.

One of the longest scenes focuses on the boxing match between Welsh Bantamweight boxer Johnny Owen being knocked into a coma by Mexican champion Lupe Pintor. Gross' narration fails to really acknowledge Owen as anything other than a face of death, but knowing that Owen's statue stands in Merthyr Tydfil not far from where I live where he is fondly remembered (the statue was unveiled by Pintor), it hammers home how bad taste this film really is. So, certainly not as 'good' (I've never used so many inverted commas) as the first, which at least provided some unintentional laughs, but this series will still remain a curiosity to me, and will no doubt reluctantly seek out the rest of the series in time.


Directed by: John Alan Schwartz
Starring: Michael Carr
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #546: 'Ms. 45' (1981)

Abel Ferrara's film that followed his notorious feature debut (ignoring his hardcore narrative, 9 Lives of a Wet Pussy (1975)), the infamous (in the UK at least) The Driller Killer (1979), Ms. 45 could at first sight, be a rehash of the slasher narrative, but with a female protagonist, or could simply be accused of following the rape-revenge tropes of films such as I Spit On Your Grave (1978). However, the story of Thana (Zoe Tamerlis Lund), a mute textile worker in New York, is a far more complex and metaphysical narrative, seeping with Freudian symbolism, and highlighting the male/female divide within modern society.

On the way home from work, Thana is dragged into an alleyway by an assailant (played by Ferrara) and ferociously raped. To add insult to injury, on arriving home, Thana is confronted with an armed robber, who, on discovering her inability to speak, rapes her again. This is the first scene that I realised what the film would offer in terms of symbolism and meaning. As Thana is raped, she holds tightly onto a faux red apple, as if she is grappling with the original sin of the garden of Eden. Does this image mean that Thana is having feelings of both guilt and fear? It is a simple yet powerful image, which is suddenly obliterated when she strikes the rapist down with the object of original sin, then completes the attack with the shackles of domesticity, when Thana beats the man to death with an iron. The fusion of the apple and iron could represent two pinnacle images of female repression, as placed upon by the "other" gender for centuries of civilisation.

It is an extreme, and succinct way to begin the film, with the incidents occurring so close together, and the already established timidity of Thana (whose handicap would render any person somewhat fearful in a modern metropolis), her nervousness around the male gender becomes heightened. Her paranoia soon reveals an ability to kick back at the dominant gender. She begins by chopping up the man who raped her in her home (she takes the parts out one at a time throughout the film), then is jolting into real action after a couple of confrontations with men on the street. The timidity is thrown off, as she armours herself with "sexuality". The late-'70's early '80's ubiquity for heavily made-up faces is used as a symbol of sexual power, the bright red lips pulsing, and the beret, a symbol of military power (incidentally the head wear was worn by Patty Hearst when taking part in "terrorist" activity with her kidnappers in the 1970's). Thana takes her new powerful image, along with a .45 pistol, stalking the streets, attacking the misogynists of New York night life, penetrating them and taking the power back for the female.

Ms. 45 is an over the top feminist tract, but one that piles on the Freudian subtext. In one scene, Thana is framed with the door to a toilet behind her, the sign "Men" next to her head, as if it is a thought bubble from a comic strip, her internal protestation at all that men represent. This happens at a significant moment, Thana's boss's advances are met with her newly acquired power, and she stares at him emitting sexuality, but only Thana and the audience can understand what will inevitably happen to him. Later at an office party, Thana, dressed as a nun, is confronted with a sister (not in the habit sort of way, but simply a member of the same gender), with confusing iconography. She stands with her skirt lifted at the front holding a knife as if it were an erect phallus, awaiting the opportunity to penetrate, bringing an ellipsis to the narrative.

Ferrara certainly made a far more accomplished film here than his previous shocker. Lund (only 17 at the time) plays the balance of timidity and power incredibly well. She clearly was a smart person, which is further exacerbated when her career shows up with a credit for co-writing (with Ferrara) Bad Lieutenant (1992). I was completely taken by surprise when watching Ms. 45. I was expecting a grim and possibly misogynistic mess (like the aforementioned I Spit On Your Grave), but found an incredibly rewarding thriller, that really fills the screen with images and ideas surrounding the gender roles. And unlike the excessive The Driller Killer, whose artists block scenario was a trifle silly, Ms. 45 creates a very real, and almost justified context in which to present a genuine femme fatale.


Directed by: Abel Ferrara
Starring: Zoë Lund, Albert Sinkys, Darlene Stuto
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #514: 'The Howling' (1981)

The Howling was the first of a cycle of werewolf themed horror films in the early 1980's (The Beast Within (1982), The Company of Wolves (1984, and Silver Bullet (1985)). Two other specific sub-genre pieces were released in 1981 (An American Werewolf in London and Wolfen), and could be seen as simply a product of film economics and bankable trends. Whilst financial reasons are fundamental to film production, innovations in other fields also contribute to this sudden vogue for lycanthropic themes. Prosthetic special effects had been transformed, particularly in horror cinema, by such films as Jaws (1975) and Alien (1979) (or even the inventive puppetry work of Jim Henson's creature workshop), which opened the door for a new generation who would elevate the craft of monster effects, bringing a more realistic, and fantastical vision to the screen. Even into the 1970's, the werewolf transformation was still created in the same way than 1941's iconic The Wolf Man, with a series of dissolves, adding fur and fangs progressively through the shots. The modern werewolf movie was to begin that horror trend to show everything. Filmmakers now had the ability (with the incredible skills of the likes of Rick Baker, Rob Bottin and Stan Winston) to show the transformation from man to monster, in visceral detail.

Rick Baker was originally drafted to provide the special effects for The Howling, (he had to leave due to a commitment he made with John Landis for An American Werewolf in London), and was replaced with Rob Bottin, who did an incredible job. Aside from the effective transformations in the film, director Joe Dante's and screenwriter John Sayles (who previously collaborated on Piranha (1978), infuse the story with their combined knowledge of horror cinema, along with some humour. Dante represents that first generation of film geeks. His knowledge of cinema is encyclopaedic and his knowledge through referencing is displayed explicitly on the screen. Many of the characters are named after directors who had historically filmed werewolf movies (Freddie Francis, George Wagner, Terrance Fisher). The characters are also aware - within the film - of the conventions of werewolf mythology, which has been learnt from being within an increasingly film literate culture, perhaps an early use of post-modernist pop-cultural reflexivity. 

Coming out of a trend for more gritty, realistic horror (a cycle begun with Hitchcock's Psycho (1960)), and during the horror saturation of the slasher sub-genre, The Howling begins in the underbelly of society, Dee Wallace plays a television news reporter (Karen White) who has been conversing with a serial killer. She meets with him in the seedy back room of a porn shop. The opening feels more like a "dirty" slasher like Maniac (1980), with it's pseudo-Scorsese mean streets, that a monster movie, an opening that was utilised when advertised - the posters and trailers rarely alluded to the "beastly" aspect of the story. After the trauma Wallace endures from her meeting with Eddie (Robert Picardo - the serial killer), she is advised by her doctor Wagner (Patrick Macnee), to spend some time at a rehabilitation resort that he runs. Writer Sayles re-wrote the original script that had been adapted from a novel by Gary Brandner, and change it significantly, and brought in the same satirical charm that was in the Piranha (1978) script. Sayles came up with the idea of the resort, the kind of self help group that was prevalent in the 1970's.

After the failure of the hippie "revolution" at the end of the 1960's, and the people's disillusionment of our institutions and governments resulting from incidents such as the Kennedy assassinations and Watergate, many of the lost generation (generation x) were looking for something spiritual, something other than reality. Many groups of "New Age" spiritualist and pop-psychologists were formed, in sometimes sinister forms. This kind of congregation would quite often be corrupt, and fuelled with sexual oppression. And what the victimised Karen finds at the spiritually enhancing resort is an archaic hive for the neurotic species of wolf. In this coven, the wolves are outsiders, on the fringes of society, and is a diminishing group who's relevance in the modern world is narrowing - they are struggling to function in this age. No doubt a comment also on the relevance of this Universal Monsters icon, having lost its ability to scare some time in the 1940's.

A combination for great writing, incredibly effective special effects, and a director with gleeful affection for the genre, The Howling is a very well constructed horror film. It moves from the grindhouse "realism" of it's opening to the revelations of the creatures with consideration, creating a natural narrative structure. It is the equivalent of Robert Rodriguez' From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), which suddenly changed the genre from crime to vampiric horror. Despite the incredibly low budget, produced and distributed by AIP (America International Pictures), with the stylish cinematography and editing, the film still holds up today, and is far superior than many of the werewolf films being made today (The Wolfman (2010) or Red Riding Hood (2011) for example). It's just a shame about all the sequels - six in total, which inevitably lose much of the sharp, satirical script and the collection of great character actors (including Kevin McCarthy, Slim Pickens, John Carradine). And what the hell; it's a lot of fun to watch.


Directed by: Joe Dante
Starring: Dee Wallace, Patrick Macnee, Dennis Dugan, Christopher Stone, Belinda Balaski, Kevin McCarthy, John Carradine, Slim Pickens
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #462: 'The Hand' (1981)

Oliver Stone's second feature film, The Hand is an effective horror yarn based on a novel by Marc Brandell. In an early scene the psychological themes that weave through this narrative are highlighted. Jonathan Lansdale's (Michael Caine) daughter, Lizzie (Mara Hobel), pokes the tail of a lizard, as her stick gets closer, the tail writhes. She questions her fathers explanation that it is reflex, as it stops once danger (the stick) is moved away. The original title of the novel was 'The Lizard's Tail', and it is this that sets up the idea of amputee psychological connections; an exploration of ideas perpetuated, and fetishised by the real-life condition experienced by amputees, phantom limb syndrome. (This is a condition where the sensation of - in this example - hand and fingers, can still be felt, despite the limbs absence.)

Caine is a comic book artist, and in a freak car accident, he loses his right hand. After a search the hand is never discovered. With his career over, he moves away from New York to teach, his wife Anne (Andrea Marcovicci), and daughter stay behind. As Jon embarks on a sexual affair with one of his students, Stella (Annie McEnroe), and as Jon's angers erupt, it seems that his hand carries out revenge. The most effective scene in the film, one that is clearly, and brilliantly directed, acted and lit, is in Jon's cabin garage, police stand around sweating. They report a funny smell, and Jon is quizzed as to what is in the truck of his car. It's a thoroughly atmospheric sequence.

The plot is, of course, completely silly, but it actually works quite well. It does have moments of great mood, helped by James Horner's score, and the visual effects by Carlo Rambaldi - the severed hand mostly effective, as "good-FX-their-the-time. Embellishing the phantom limb syndrome concept is a delicious little idea, and perfectly fits within the context of many horror films of the time. It has elements of Stephen King, James Herbert, and certainly takes influence from the famous EC comics of the 1950's, and this modern mixture of efficient horror, gore, and a little splash of Jungian psychoanalytical character psychosis works well as an adequate chiller.


Directed by: Oliver Stone
Starring: Michael Caine, Andrea Marcovicci, Annie McEnroe, Bruce McGill
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Marc Ivamy

Review #412: 'Full Moon High' (1981)

In the 1950's, high school jock Tony (Adam Arkin) travels to Transylvania with his father, and gets bitten by a werewolf. After attacking some high-jackers on the plane ride back, Tony starts to terrorise his home town by attacking the locals, choosing to nip girls on their arses rather than actually eating them. Fearing he will be discovered, he leaves town and starts a trip across America for the next few decades (he's immortal too, see) only to return to his home town, pretending to be Tony's son. Caught between his old flame Jane (Roz Kelly), now married to his old friend, and lusty, mousy teacher Miss Montgomery (Elizabeth Hartman), he struggles to hide his affliction as the attacks re-surface.

'Written, produced and directed by Larry Cohen' is something that would normally delight me whilst watching the opening credits of a film, but although Cohen's trademark wit is their occasionally in the script, Full Moon High ultimately fails on all levels, never reaching anywhere near the level of quirk, or containing the endearing oddball characters, as the likes of It's Alive (1974), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982) or The Stuff (1985). Although he is annoyingly whiny at times, Arkin does give a game performance, and has the chance to spout lines such as "I don't believe in vampires or werewolves or virgins," (it made me laugh anyway). And the film did make me laugh a number of times throughout, with spinning newspapers giving headlines such as 'Werewolf Annoys Community', and a pretty talented comedy support cast (Ed McMahon, Kenneth Mars, Pat Morita and Alan Arkin) - Mars is a particular stand-out, playing the once-sexually repressed gay gym teacher who, decades on, is a full-blown queen.

But the mix of spoof, childish visual gags, Benny Hill-esque sped-up smutty humour, and outright farce doesn't quite blend, and ultimately, the film is an absolute mess. One scene near the end sees a cop shooting a bullet at the POV werewolf, only to hit the cameraman. The screen goes black as Alan Arkin and the crew rush the get the film going again. It could have been a moment of offbeat self-reflexive surreality, but its poorly-handled, and the film's budget constraints seem to get the better of it. It tries to homage the comedy of the Zucker brothers and Mel Brooks, but you'd be better off watching them instead of his lame effort, because although the film did amuse me at rare occasions, when I wasn't laughing I was generally cringing. Full Moon High is not something that will exactly tarnish Larry Cohen's CV, but it is certainly a massive disappointment from the man behind some of my favourite B-movie guilty pleasures.


Directed by: Larry Cohen
Starring: Adam Arkin, Roz Kelly, Ed McMahon, Elizabeth Hartman, Kenneth Mars, Alan Arkin
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #400: 'The Black Cat' (1981)

Following the gruesome gore-fests of Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979) and City of the Living Dead (1980), director Lucio Fulci toned down the violence and adapted the short story of the same name by Edgar Allen Poe. The film, that bares little resemblance to Poe's original story, has Inspector Gorley (David Warbeck) travel to a rural English village to investigate a string of strange deaths and occurrences. Also arriving is photography student Jill (Mimsy Farmer), who finds a strange recording device in a graveyard that traces back to the eccentric Professor Robert Miles (Patrick Magee, the vengeful assault victim from A Clockwork Orange (1971)). Miles is trying to contact the dead, but it is his strange black cat that seems to be committing the murders, and seems to be as murderous towards its owner than it is to its selected victims.

This is a huge change of tone from what I've experienced previously from the Italian 'Godfather of Gore' (surely that title belongs to H.G. Lewis?), and shares more in common with Hammer's horror output and the various Roger Corman adaptations of Poe's work. Yet although the tone makes for a refreshing change, this is still a plodding and silly film, and is far from the director's best work. I've already voiced my puzzlement at how a cat can kill a human in my review of The Corpse Grinders (1971), and the same happens here. A man gets attacked in the street repeatedly by a lunging cat, and I couldn't help but shout abuse at the screen as he flailed about pathetically.

The film is beautifully shot though, and if one thing can be said about Fulci, is that he knows how to shoot a smoky graveyard. His best works The Beyond (1981) and City of the Living Dead involved scenes of beautiful sepia and eerie widescreen shots of various spooky locations, and The Black Cat is no different. The early scene involving Miles attempting to communicate to the dead in a graveyard has a panning shot so beautiful that it almost cemented an extra star onto my rating. But the sheer silliness and tedium of the rest of the film brought me back to reality.

Directed by: Lucio Fulci

Starring: Patrick Magee, Mimsy Farmer, David Warbeck

Country: Italy

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #398: 'Bloody Moon' (1981)

The film begins with facially-scarred Miguel (Alexander Waechter) raping and murdering a girl with a pair of scissors at a masquerade party. He is institutionalised for a number of years, but then released into the care of his sister Manuela (Nadja Gerganoff), whom he used to have a incestuous relationship with. Manuela runs a language Boarding School with her wheelchair-bound mother, who refuses to name Manuela in her will. When Manuela refuses Miguel's advances to resume their relationship, the friends of Angela (Olivia Pascal), whom Miguel's seems to be intrigued by, start disappearing. Angela knows they are being killed and even witnesses a murder, but no-one believes her.

When going into a horror film directed by exploitation legend Jess Franco, you know what you're in for. Lots of blood, lots of sleeze, and in particular, lots of tits. Bloody Moon does not fail to disappoint on this front, but unfortunately, it disappoints on practically every other front. On IMDb, he is credited with 194 titles as director, and he has churned out as many exploitation titles as I have shits after a curry. While I have only seen a small handful of his films (all pretty bad), this is undoubtedly the worst I've seen. As well as ripping off other, more impressive slasher films (Mario Bava's A Bay of Blood (1971) and Blood and Black Lace (1964) are two that I noticed), the film is poorly thrown together in a manner to get as much blood and breasts as possible. While that's not a terribly bad or unoriginal idea, all the in-between parts are painfully tedious and dull.

If you're in it for the blood, you won't be disappointed. There's plenty of outlandishly staged set-pieces here, most notably the scene in which a woman is decapitated by a power saw. The hilarious thing is that the woman volunteers to be tied down in an abandoned lumber mill, inches away from the giant saw, by a masked man. She says she finds it kinky. Well, maybe she deserves to die for being so fucking stupid. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention or I was so bored I was considering slitting my wrists, but when the big revelation came at the climax, I failed to see why the killer had to kill the girls in order to achieve their goal. Again, Franco was thinking blood and boobs, and all logic went out the window. Perhaps not the worst Video Nasty on the list so far, but it's certainly up there.


Directed by: Jess Franco
Starring: Olivia Pascal, Christoph Moosbrugger, Nadja Gerganoff, Alexander Waechter
Country: West Germany

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #352: 'An American Werewolf in London' (1981)

Two American students, David (David Naughton) and Jack (Griffin Dunne), are on a backpacking trip in Northern England. Following an awkward experience in the local pub, The Slaughtered Lamb, the two set out again and stray from the road, going against the locals warnings. They are attacked by a vicious monster that kills Jack and wounds David, who wakes up days later in a London hospital. After being discharged, he moves in with nurse Alex (Jenny Agutter) but is plagued by nightmares and visits from his slowly rotting friend Jack, who claims he is stuck on Earth as an undead. He also warns David that the beast that attacked him was a werewolf, and come the next full moon, David will transform and kill.

This film had somehow evaded me for too long, so I decided to finally sit down to see what all the fuss was about. I hadn't heard much about it apart from the fact that it included a legendary transformation sequence that changed the face of horror effects forever. After viewing the film, and that sequence, I can safely say that the hype is completely justified. David's transformation, which depicts his limbs elongating, his nails sharpening, and his face becoming that of a giant wolf, is truly exceptional, even by today's standards. In a world full of lazy CGI substituting for arguably more realistic prosthetics and make-up, it was delightful witnessing a work of true genius by the Oscar-winning Rick Baker. The make-up used on Jack on his frequent visits are also truly exceptional, as he turns from torn and bloody, to grey and rotting, and finally to nothing more than a moving skull with eyeballs.

Director John Landis had made plenty of money with his comedies The Kentucky Fried Movie (1977), Animal House (1978) and The Blues Brothers (1980) before making a foray into horror, and it feels like a natural move, as the film works just as well as a horror film as it does a comedy. At time it feels like a heartfelt homage to the old Universal horrors of the 30's and 40's (the likes of The Wolf Man (1941) being an obvious inspiration) and the Hammer horrors of the 60's (the rural setting), but it rises above being a mere love-letter and is a great film in its own right. I'm aware of the sequel, An American Werewolf in Paris (1997), but the absence of Landis and the cast suggests its a mere cash-in that relies on the original's reputation, so I'll probably give that one a miss.


Directed by: John Landis
Starring: David Naughton, Jenny Agutter, Griffin Dunne, John Woodvine
Country: UK/USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie