All genres of suspense, terror, and horror will be reviewed by Richard Gary. His address to send preview copies supplied upon request to rbf55@msn.com.
Creature from Black Lake Directed
by Joy N. Houck Jr.
Howco International; Multicom; Synapse Films; MVD Entertainment
95 minutes, 1976 / 2021 www.synapsefilms.com www.MVDVisual.com/
I remember seeing this
film early on, and thinking it was silly. But I was
young, and now, all these years later, I don’t really remember it much, so it will
be nice to see it under my present mental state in this new widescreen 4K
restoration from the original 35mm camera negative.
This was one of a bunch of
either Bigfoot or woodland creatures tearing up the place and causing human
deaths that were released at that time, such as The Legend of Boggy Creek (1972)
and Prophesy (1979). Here, we fall closer to the Sasquatch than a mutant
bear.
John David Carson, Dennis Fimple
After the intro where we
see a mash-up of an attack by said creature (Roy Tatum) in a Louisiana swamp in
Oil City, in Caddo parish (yes, a real place, though it was also filmed around Shreveport,
20 miles away) on a couple of fishermen, including Joe (wild eyed Jack Elam; d.
2003), and a professor in Chicago, Dr. Burch (the director, J.N. Houck Jr.; d.
2003); the latter is essentially an exposition for the viewing audience on the
creature at hand. This leads to two anthropology students, comedy relief and ‘Nam
vet Pahoo (toothy Dennis Fimple, who is known to the modern horror crowd as
Grampa Hugo in 2002’s House of 1000 Corpses; d. 2002), and prettyboy Rives
(John David Carson, who was in the underrated Pretty Maids All in a Row
in 1971, and 1974’s awful incest film The Savage is Loose; d. 2009) set
off to the swamps to find Joe and the monster.
The reception the two receive
is not pleasant, especially by the Sherriff, Bill Carter (Bill Thurman; d.
1995). Interestingly, the two asked the locals about Joe and the monster, and
you get the feeling this is being done to actual residents of the town who seem
baffled, much like in the overrated The Blair Witch Project (1999).
Jim McCullough Jr., Dub Taylor
Along the way, our two
intrepid Yankees meet a bunch of colorful characters, such as one of the early
witnesses of the creature, Orville (writer of this film, Jim McCullough Jr.; d.
2022); his grandpa is Western film star and a semi-regular on “The Andy Griffin
Show,” Dub Taylor (d. 1994). Then there are the two romantic leads for our
protagonists, high school students (saywhat?!) Michelle (Michelle
Willingham), and the beautiful Becky (Becky Smiser, in her only listed IMDB
role). In an unintended cameo, playing a toddler Orville in a flashback, is future
WCW professional wrestler Chase Tatum (d. 2008).
Throughout, there are the
requisite POV shots via a handheld, shaky camera. At least it wasn’t re-colored
or distorted…well, occasionally it is fuzzy, but that’s about it. We
occasionally see what the Sasquatch-ish thingy observes, often through the
foliage.
Carson, Becky Smiser, Fimple, Michelle Willingham
Of course, our students are
going to meet up with Joe, and then the young’ns will hunt the hunter. Or, perhaps,
be prey? I will not tell. My question is, if the point is repeatedly made that Pahoo
is a Vietnam Veteran, why is draft resister Rives responsible for holding the rifle?
The last act as they face
the upright monkey-looking Sasquatch, seen mostly in silhouette, is pretty exciting in the third act, with
a bunch of jump scares and some unexpected actions. The ending, though, is a
bit anti-climatic and left open for a sequel which never came. And considering most
of the cast is now passed on, I doubt it is going to happen, unless there is a
remake at some point (and the way Hollywood is at the moment, that is not
farfetched).
Bill Thurman, Jack Elam
There is a bit of a “Dukes
of Hazzard” (TV series, not the film) vibe, and also a buoyancy, that makes
this watchable. It is better than I remembered, but kinda goofy at the same
time. It is also a piece of its period: there is little blood and no nudity,
and barely cussin’. It was rated PG (content is not
recommended for viewing by people under the age of 15 without adults).
However, it does have quite a bit of clever and humorous moments, though not
technically a comedy. At least there are
some decent jump scares.
Notable extras are a full-length
audio commentary with author/filmmaker Michael Gingold (whose bibliography
includes 2017's Frightfest Guide to Monster Movies) and film historian, fanzine publisher, and blogger, Chris Poggiali. they come across as likeable and occasionally humorous, and give the usual information about the making of the film, historical info on the cast and crew, and its effect on the culture of the time. "Swamp Stories" (19 min) is an all-new featurette with Dean Cundey, who waas the Director of Photography. He discusses what it was like to be shooting in a swamp after coming out from Los Angeles, how it was working with some big-name actors and the crew (such as the director), and even some Bigfoot history. Last is the original theatrical trailer and radio spot.
Roy Tatum
The cinematography by Cundey is exceptional and, for me, one of the strongest aspects of the film. This is the kind of release that would play as a second bill at a drive-in, especially in the South. I find it amusing that it is in widescreen, but was a big hit playing on television when the medium was a box, rather than the new, rectangular screens, so it had to have been serious cropped. Glad it is back to all its widescreen glory.
I have two
converging thoughts about this release in a general way, before I get into
specifics. The first is that I remember in the early-to-mid-1970s when there
was a host of Philippines-shot films that were showing up in the theaters,
though I was too young at the time to realize they were mostly directed by the
same guy, Eddie Romero, including Women
in Chains (1973, also known as Black
Mama, White Mama). Most of his output at that time were about people being
held against their will (either convicts or kidnap victims), and them being
tortured and/or turned into some kind of monster, such as animal or zombie.
My second
thought is about handsome actor John Ashley. He started out mostly in shirtless
in a bunch of beach and gangster films in the early 1960s, and ended up making
numerous horror films… wait for it… in the Philippines. And yes, for Eddie
Romero, such as Mad Doctor of Blood Island (1968), Beast of Blood (1970), Beast
of the Yellow Night (1971; I remember cutting out of school to go see it), and this
one, each directed by, yep, Eddie Romero. These even helped create a sub-genre
called the Blood Island Films.
Now, while
these films get accolades now, and Romero has won lots of awards (especially
from the Philippines), the truth of the matter is most from this period and
genre are cheesy messes; but the good side of the coin is that is also part of what
makes them such a joy to watch. It is one solid WTF moment after another, be it story, make-up effects, acting, and
so on. But I’ll get more into detail as I go along.
Sporting Tom
Jones-level sideburns, soldier of fortune, adventurer and man-about-town Matt
Farrell (Ashley; d. 1997) – who is repeatedly called by his last name
throughout – is kidnapped while SCUBA diving by blond Robert-Shaw-in-From Russia With Love-wannabe Steinman (Jan
Merlin, who perennially played bad guys, especially in Westerns) and the
luscious but icy looking brunette Neva (Pat Woodell, who played Bobby Jo in
“Petticoat Junction”; d. 2015). The man behind the plot is Dr. Gordon (Charles
Macaulay, better known as Landru to “Star Trek” fans, and Dracula in Blacula; d. 1991).
Okay, so now
that is out of the way, Farrell is brought to Dr. Gordon’s island fortress
(where did he get the money?), to which Farrell presciently asks, “What is this
circus?” It’s a good question because the good
doctor wants to help science and humanity by combining humans with animals. If
it sounds like HG Well’s The Island of
Dr. Moreau (enjoyable book, by the way), you wouldn’t be the first to
agree, and I would not either; hell it says it right on the back cover of this
edition. But to add to the mix, I would say it also seems to rely some on
1958’s She Demons, also set on an island
with a doctor playing havoc with the human form (mostly female, of course).
Pat Woodell and Pam Grier
Unlike those
other two, however, this film really can’t seem to make up its mind to its
genre, exactly. Okay, it is a horror, especially the Mad Scientist type, but at
some point it’s a war film and a bit of a Western. There’s also some humor
thrown in here and there, but I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not; either
way, I’ll take it. And enjoy it.
Most of the
humor lies in the transformed creatures, including a panther woman (an early
role for the great Pam Grier), an ape man (Kim Ramos), a real bat man who
steals his scenes (Tony Gosalvez), and a surprisingly touching romance between
an antelope man (Ken Metcalfe) and wolf woman (Mona Morena). Oh did I mention
that these two aren’t the only romance that develops in the plot? Of course, in
a post-James Bond world it will come as no surprise. Near the end, though, is a
nice twist.
There is
actually a large albeit subtle level of sensuality/sexuality that surprised me
a bit, even for its time period (Hammer Films was releasing cleavage-fests by then).
There’s a (clothed) love scene, an almost rape, some formidable décolletageby Grier, a tight tee, Woodellis
always in full makeup even in the jungle all night, and there is even some
strong suggestion about mano-a-mano-amor.
Of course, the only rolling-on-the-ground hand-to-hand combat is between two females
(girl fight!): panther woman and wolf
woman, who you might say were at it like – err
– cats and dogs.
Wolf Woman and Antelope Man in love
So there is a ridiculousness level to the film,
such as the make-up (by Tony Arteida), sometimes the acting, guns with never-ending
amounts of bullets, the animal sounds on the soundtrack that are dubbed to
supposedly be “dialogue” by our (mostly) friendly humanimals (even though they
never match up to anything), and lots of story holes. What I mean by the latter
is that things happen that are never explained (wait, you had the drop on him…), or the editing is confusing, and
the whole finale is a “Hunh? You’re
ending it here?”
It might be wise here to let you know that while there isn't a large amount of gore, there is some nice bloodletting, though the blood is a really bright shade of red. Being humanimals, there is a lot of throat-tearing.
The basic
extras are the theatrical and TV trailers, but there is also a 58:40 minute
interview with the director, Eddie Romero (d. 2013), that a bit dated as it
looks like it was transferred from a VHS). It’s a single camera focused on the director
as he answers off-screen questions about how he got into the film industry, discusses
Filipino cinema history, and supplies anecdotes about his own films. He’s personable
and it’s interesting; that being said, it’s a tad long, albeit historically important.
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na Bat Man
Also included
is a full-length commentary by film historian David Del Valle and low-budget
genre director David Decoteau. Luckily, there are English subtitles available,
so you can watch the film with the commentary and still follow the story. Their
conversation is more film history, both horror and Filipino, than about this film directly, but I still recommend
watching the feature first without the comments, and then listening to it to avoid distraction to either. It’s a bit
dry, but I’m used to academic kind of lectures and certainly find film history
interesting, but I would understand if it wasn’t everyone’s cuppa. While it
definitely is thought-provoking from a film nerd point of view, and they
discuss Filipino cinema in detail as well as the numerous actors, they don’t
address the two key plot questions I have, which I won’t give away here.
Oh, and did I
mention the package comes with both a 2K format Blu-ray and a DVD? This has definitely been cleaned up, and the picture quality
is stunning in both.
My biggest
question about this film though, is simply this: is it Twilight People or THE
Twilight People. I have seen it both ways. Either way, it’s a hooterville-and-half.
Back in 1978, I attended the Worst
Film Festival, held in New York City, which was sponsored and hosted by the Medved
brothers, Harry and Michael; they wrote the book The Fifty Worst Films of All Time (with Randy Dreyfuss). There, I
was present for the world premiere of Attack
of the Killer Tomatoes. Also in attendance was the director, John De Bello, who I
remember talking about how the helicopter crash in the film was real, and they
kept it in because it was great footage (and rightfully so).
Yeah, AotKT gets flack for being bad, but in retrospect the film can be seen as either
a turning point or effected one, because just two years later, Airplane! (1980) would hit the theaters
and change the way cinema looked at comedy (as Mel Brooks had done in 1974 with
Blazing Saddles). That absurdist
humor that we had loved so much in the previous The Groove Tube (1974) and Kentucky
Fried Movie (1977) came to adulthood (such as it was; perhaps it regressed...) with Airplane!. However, AotKT was the missing link between the two sketch comedy films and
the fully grown Airplane!, taking short
bits and stretching them into a full movie, albeit with sketch-like set pieces.
I mean, this film even has multiple amusing Public Address Announcements, which
was also employed often by Airplane! Coincidence?!
I haven’t seen the film since that
time (and have never seen the multiple sequels), yet I was pleasantly surprised
to find that it really was a bit ahead of its time. Audiences, however, were
just not ready to appreciate it. And that includes me. I remember it being bad,
but I also recall being amused by it. It makes more sense in the perspective of
the comedy timeline I mentioned above.
For those who don’t know, the basic
premise is that tomatoes had genetically mutated and became flesh-eating
monsters, including some that had grown to enormous (human) size. The film
doesn’t waste any time, immediately jumping into the fray with the first scene.
Of course, most of the violence occurs off-screen since this is a low budget
film (despite the destruction of the whirlybird), and well, most of the time
they used real to-may-toes (as
opposed to to-mah-toes; yeah, I don’t
know what that means either; I’m just gettin’ with the program, Jack).
The humor is both broad and subtle,
but all of it bada-boom, bada-bing, bada sis-boom-bah. In other words, it’s non-stop. For example, in just one scene
– and this isn’t everything by a long shot – generals and scientists gather in
a meeting room that is way too small, a Japanese scientist is obviously and
badly dubbed; at one point he knocks a photo to the bottom of a fish tank, and
of course it’s of the battleship USS Arizona. Then the head of the Federal
Intelligence Agency makes a point that he doesn’t need to check into the
background of anyone involved with this project; a future Trump selection?.
Speaking of which, there is a lot of
fun made of the (fictional) president in the film. Now, this was released
during the time of Jimmy Carter, but it seems pretty obvious to me it was
written during the tenure of Gerald Ford by the manner of which he is duplicitous
(e.g., getting rid of a submarine base because “those funny little black ships
just keep sinking anyway”).
Some of the humor is quite topical,
and has now reached the stage where it might get lost on a younger audience.
For example, two soldiers are looking and a map and someone asks what the blue
dots on a map mean, and is told “Those are Mobil stations,” from the days when
gas stations gave out free maps. Or someone calling the operator on a pay phone
and claiming he got a wrong number and wanting the money back (yes, this really
happened).
Also, a lot of the humor that was
hysterical then is kinda rubbing against the PC model, with some gay and racial
humor (e.g., a Black man in disguise dressed as Hitler), and a rape joke and
assumption that it is women’s duty to sleep with someone to get what she needs
for her job (in this case, a reporter). One could also see a bit of sexism if
they wanted in a love song that professes, “Our love will be classy / Just like
Timmy and Lassie,” but I’ll leave that one up to you to decide.
There are a number of song set pieces
in here making it a musical-Lite , such as a salesman explaining to a
government official about how he knows how to sway an audience (a pre-Wag the Dog influence, decades before
that 1997 release?), or an Army officer doing an Elvis-ish song and dance with
a chorus of soldiers that’s a cross between a Monty Python bit (“Oooh, get her
/ You military fairy!”) and a foretelling of Mel Brooks’ dancing and singing
Merry Men in Robin Hood: Men in Tights
(1993). Another spoof song that shows up occasionally is “Puberty Love,” done
in a high-pitched whine by Matt Cameron, who went on to become the drummer for
Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. With all that, the song that most people remember is
the title one written by the director, sung in a bravado voice and whose chorus
is incredibly catchy.
Sharon Taylor
As for the story proper, well, it’s a
bit all over the map, but the closest thing to a protagonist is a government
agent named Mason Dixon (David Miller). His not-so-bright sidekick is pilot Wilber
Finletter (Rock Peace, aka J. Stephen
Peace, aka the co-writer of the film)
who always has his parachute trailing behind him. The government is trying to
either keep the killer tomatoes a secret, or to convince the public that there
is no danger, whose drive is led by Press Secretary George Wilson (Jim Richardson).
However, news reporter Lois Fairchild (the willowy and unconventional cutie
Sharon Taylor who has a Julie Hagerty vibe), is hot... on the trail of the
story. Meanwhile, someone is trying to assassinate Dixon, while the huge
tomatoes are gobbling people up.
Many of the people in the film went
on to other roles, though few had spectacular film careers beyond the sequels,
arguably other than “Twin Peaks” actor Dana Ashbrook, who had a non-credit role
here. That is not to say there aren’t a couple of cameos here and there, such
as English actor Eric Christmas (you’d probably recognize him if you saw him;
d. 2000), and especially Jack Riley (d. 2016), a comic performer who had many
roles in the 1970s and ‘80s, but is probably best known in the recurring psychiatric
patient role of Mr. Carlin on “The Bob Newhart Show.”
There are two discs on this set, one
in Blu-ray and one DVD, so you can watch it in any contraption. I don’t have an
HD teevee, so I couldn’t tell the difference, but both have the same extras,
which include the following:
Jack Riley
Of course, there is a commentary
track, with the three original creators of the film, De Bello, Peace and Costa
Dillon. They still work well together to tell the story of the making of the
film through inception to anecdotes, all with a sense of humor without stepping
all over each other, which is great. Even though it was recorded a quarter of a
century after the film was made but a decade before this version of the release
for the DVD in 2003 for the DVD release, as was the rest of bonus material, it
still sounds relevant.
You may not know that the film
actually started as a 17:35-minute short in 1976, which is presented here both
without and with commentary track. It’s worth the view (for both) to see just
how many of the gags they kept intact – if not nearly identical – and the
storylines that were added to pad it out to a feature. It’s still pretty funny,
shot as a college course student film on 8mm. The acting is horrendous, but it’s
important to remember the context of when and why it was made. Also showing is
an even earlier 32:27 short, “Gone with the Babusaland” from 1971. Being a
silent film, it just comes with the commentary. It doesn’t really make too much
sense, and it is funny in parts, but what makes this most interesting is it presents
the early version of the Mason Dixon and Finletter characters that were
incorporated into the main feature later. Unfortunately, the volume of the
commentary is much lower than the others, so it’s a bit hard to hear.
The 14:14 short “Attack of the Killer
Tomatoes: The Legacy” follows. This is a really fun documentary/interview with
the three main behind-the-scenes guys, and pieces with people like Bruce
Vilanch and other fans. For 3:40 there’s “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes Redux:
Chopper Crash” which is about, well, duh. It’s an enjoyable mixture of news and
archival material mixed with 2003 follow-up interviews with the crew and Jack
Riley. The subsequent short is three “Deleted Scenes” that are enjoyable to
watch, but yeah, they were right to be pulled as there was plenty of other gags
that worked better that remained. The very short – err – short, “Famous Fowl,” comes
after that at a mere 2:21 about the San Diego Chicken mascot discussing his
being in the penultimate scene, shot in the San Diego stadium.
Next up is a 4:33 short titled “A Killer
Tomato Invades Hollywood” (also called “Killer Tommatomania”). We meet “as seen
on television” interviewer Wendy Wilder (I haveno idea who is she is,
FYI) talking to some effervescent dude dressed as a “killer tomato guy”
(described as “desperate actor”). He walks around Hollywood asking people (in
an obnoxious way) to complete the sentence, “Attack of the Killer ____.” It’s
more goofy than interesting. What I found more appealing (and humorous) is the
2:52 “Where Are They Now?” which catches us up with the main actors (as of 10
years ago, of course), narrated with funny dialogue. “We Told You So!” is a
3:07 look at how ahead of the game the film was in warning the world about GMO “Frankenfoods,”
told in a humorously told-you-so snarky manner.
Rock Peace and David Miller
As for trailers, we get the
theatrical one (see below), two radio spots, and oddly enough, the coming
attraction for the Lech Kowalski punk film, D.O.A.:
Rite of Passage.
The last presented is a series of
clips of the songs, with the lyrics underneath (and a follow-along bouncing tomato
ball, natch), and then “Slated for Success: The Killer Tomato Slate Girl,” with
a 1:57 tongue-in-cheek honor for Beth Reno (who was also the production
accountant), the film’s “Slate Girl.” It shows just how wonderfully silly this
whole film is, in the long run.
There is a reason why AotKT has reached such a strong cult
status, in my opinion. While not as noteworthy a bad film as The Room (2003), it’s come to be a funny
mess that is worth the watch for the nostalgia, the mostly decent corny jokes,
the political humor, and a snapshot of comedy of its period. It’s also
interesting, as I’ve implied, to see it in a rear view mirror (as Marshall
McLuhan would have put it), to note how the use of humor is reflected and
arguably copied in more infamous films to come.
