Showing posts with label AGFA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AGFA. Show all posts

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Reviews: The Violent Years; Anatomy of a Psycho

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018
Images from the Internet

                                     
The Violent Years (aka Teenage Girl Gang)
Directed by William Morgan; written by Ed Wood, Jr.
AGFA / Something Weird Video / MVD Visual
65 minutes, 1956 / 2017

I’m happy to say I originally saw this one in the theater. No, not when it came out, I’m not that old. I either saw it at an Ed Wood, Jr. respective at the Thalia Theater in New York City, back in the ‘80s, or, it could have been at the World’s Worst Film Festival, run by the Medved Brothers, but I can’t remember.

Ed Wood, Jr. (d. 1978) gets most of the credit for this film because of the name value, but he was only the writer. The direction is flatly in the hands of William Morgan. Before this, he made mostly B-Westerns, and this was his last one before he died in 1964.

There’s two ways (at least) to look that this film: what it is and what it means; in other words, the film itself, and the message it was infused to give in the context of its history. I’ll start with the easy one, which is first.

This film gets a lot of flak for being a piece of bad cinema. I’m not going to argue with that per se, but there’s a lot of different ways to look at that, as well. To be fair, this is actually no better or worse than most of the b-films that were coming out since the 1940s, especially the cheap and fast ones during wartime. Like most of those, this too was a propaganda film, but I’ll get more into that later.

Jean Moorehead
The basic premise of the film is the non-rise of a girl gang that robs (mostly gas stations), assaults people, and whose members are just angry at life. The foursome is led by Paula (attractive Jean Moorehead, who was the October 1955 Playboy Bunny of the month; Hershell Gordon Lewis would do the same with June 1963 Playmate Connie Mason in his 1963 Blood Feast, but I digress…). Each of the four is given names that are easily masculinized, which they call each other as nicknames, for the filmmakers to subtly indicate to the audience they are not being “womanly”: Paula/Paul, Geraldine/Jerry, Georgia/George, and Phyllis/Phil (no Ringo, though).

The acting overall, yes, is quite wooden, but there are some nice moments, such as when Paula sneers to the wasp-waited Sheila (Lee Constant), their link to the underworld, “I killed a policeman tonight. Yeah, a cop” (it’s in the trailer, below). But mostly, it’s high drama acting where everything is either under- or over-stated. Again, that’s very typical of the period films of this nature. The worst acting, though is the judge (stalwart b-film western actor I. Stanford Jolley), who either looks like he is saying his lines with his eyes closed, or reading the script below him; though the court bailiff who flubs his one line gets honorable mention.

The Girl Gang
Also typical of b-films, this one is just merely over an hour in length. In a time when it was common practice to have double features, the longer the films the less turnover of customers, so they tended to be quick.

Overall, the writing is okay, most of the story is told in flashback, though admittedly clunky. The revitalized print is really good, but nothing could save the many overused studio stock footage b-rolls of the police cars screaming down the streets with sirens blaring.

As for the sociological aspect of the film, well, there is a lot to unbox. Most of the juvenile delinquent films from the ‘50s were geared to two different audiences. First to the parents as a scare tactic (such as the evening newscast in New York City that for decades started with “It’s10 PM. Do you know where your children are!?”).  With the rise of rock and roll, and all the media hysteria that went with it, films like these were used to scare parents about their teens, and also give them a message: pay attention to your kids or they will go bad. Here they imply that because the mother is more interested in things outside the home (in this case charity work, but it could be seen as any employment), it will lead to ignoring the children who will go wrong without direct and constant supervision. That is just one of the subliminal messages meant for the audience.

It could be noted that all the characters here (other than gonif queen Sheila) are middle class, with Paula coming from wealthy parents. The message of stay home with your children seems geared towards white, middle class and upper. It’s as if the lower classes were expected to be lost causes, so the subtext is “these are the children of the future, not those others, so watch your social status or we will lose our advantage!”
                                
The other side of the directed audience is teens, who were coming to be recognized as a marketable demographic in the late ‘50s (that, too, came with rock and roll record purchasing) with some spendable income. Films like this wallowed in cheesy, establishment versions of rock and roll music (very toned down boogie-woogie with lots of sax). This and the teen crime element made it an interesting topic for the young, but it was also a warning to them to stay on the straight-and-narrow. The film opens with some “good citizenship” notes on a blackboard that the main characters walk by (as they are introduced with name title cards), and scoff.

This was the middle period of the Cold War, between McCarthyism and the Bay of Pigs, but the fear was still intense. The fear was palpable back then, so in films like this, they tried to connect the rising imagined JD problem with Communist influence. Here, Sheila hires the ladies to wreck the school, and subtly adds, “And don’t worry if a few (American) flags get destroyed in the process. Let’s just say it’s part of a well-organized foreign plan” (again, check out the trailer).  

And then there’s the ever-present fear of S-E-X before marriage. Or, as they show here, will lead to multiple unwanted consequences (don’t want to give too much away).
                                                                                           
The theme of the film is, literally, “so what?,” which is said numerous times. If this film was made today, I wonder if they would have used Anti-Nowhere League as a theme song

This is a really nicely cleaned up print, so great job AGFA and Something Weird Video.

The extras are some grainy (8mm? 16mm?) footage that Wood shot in one day for a film that was never made called Hellborn. Even in those 8 minutes, you can see the difference between his style and, say, the main feature’s. Though seeing Wood in his drag persona is always a pleasure. Some of this b-roll was used in a couple of his other films. There is also the trailer for The Violent Years, but also added is a collection of other youth in trouble films, mostly from Europe, and almost all have the same catch phrase: “Never before has a film been so frank about sex!”
                                   
While The Violent Years would have been a great double feature with Switchblade Sisters (1975), it is probably more appropriate to have the following as the second film:

Anatomy of a Psycho
Directed by Brooke L. Peters (aka Boris Petroff)
75 minutes, 1961 / 2017
First, the reason this one is included with main feature is that Ed Wood, Jr. added to the screenplay, under the pen name Larry Lee, so it kinda makes sense.

While the other film deals with saying “no” to society and its norms, this movie deals with more of a psychological aspect, with a criminally insane Juvenile Delinquent. There is a difference between being anti-social and being a sociopath, and that’s where this film has its feet.

A murderous criminal is sent to the gas chamber as the film begins. But the story revolves more about the aftermath of his actions than on him, since he’s smoked less than five minute into the story.

Ronnie Burns and Pamela Lincoln
His normal sister, Pat (the cute and toothsome Pamela Lincoln, who had appeared as Vinnie Price’s wife in The Tingler in 1959), is trying to get over the social shame of having her brother be a murderer. But she’s in love with Mickey (Ronnie Burns, the real-life adopted son of George Burns and Gracie Allen), and her aim is to have a normal life with him.

Their other brother, Chet (Darrell Howe) is another story, and is the titular character. He can’t stand that his brother was executed, and decides to decimate anyone who aided in the arrest. He’s not the Arch Hall, Jr. screaming freak of 1963’s The Sadist, but more the type of tall guy who leans over you with a cigarette dangling in his mouth and idly holding a switchblade. He has his manic moments, especially by the end, but mostly he’ll non-chalantly start a fire, for example. It’s a slow build.

Darrell Howe
Other than a lot of smoking by a lot of characters, one would think the film would be focusing on Chet, but it seems like Mickey is oddly the central character (definitely the biggest name of the cast), as he is arrested for a murder actually perpetrated by…well, you know.

Unlike, say, The Violent Years, his film is not used as a propaganda tool to scare people into doing or being something that society expects, it’s more a straight-out crime that could have easily played on television on one of the many cop shows that were on at the time. Part of the reason for that, I believe, is that the three siblings come from a lower class stratum, so are not seen as socially relevant; though Pat is marrying into supposed respectability, before he is arrested.

While overall it’s a pretty silly film, and Chet is both scary and laughable (at times), in the social context of the time, it is still good escapism. It’s right as a second feature, as it’s not good enough a story to be A-line, but I didn’t feel sorry watching it, any more than spending an evening with a CSI: Whatever or NCIS: Wherever. It doesn’t need to be brilliant to be an enjoyable time killer.









Friday, December 15, 2017

Reviews: The Zodiac Killer; Another Son of Sam

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017
Images from the Internet

The Zodiac Killer
Directed by Tom Hanson
AGFA / Something Weird Video / MVD Visual
87 minutes, 1971 / 2017

This until-recently-lost film is kind of infamous in the true story crimes micro-budget genre. Director Tom Hanson did not set out to either warn, to give information to the public about a real-life serial killer who besot California in the mostly late 1960s into the very early 1970s, or to make a profit. His purpose was to either catch the Killer at the premiere if he showed up. Man, that’s ballsy!

While it didn’t work since the Zodiac Killer (ZK) was never found, it did leave us this wonderfully bizarre and cheesy film that strangely is actually more entertaining than the bio-pic Zodiac (2007), which was completed with a budget in the millions, and starred A-listers such as Jake Gyllenhaal. When this film was released, though, the killing was still going on, which gives a chilling aspect to it.

Hal Reed
We meet two characters in San Francisco, a mailman named Jerry (Hal Reed, d. 2010) and a balding ladies’ man, Grover (Bob Jones), who is a delivery truck driver. These two guys, as are most of the (non-victim) men portrayed, are macho misogynist morons who have a deep-seated hatred of women, often casually using terms like “dumb broad” and, of course, “bitch.” Sadly, dudes like these who have a fanatical distaste for women and yet seek some kind of need for their attention are still a dime a dozen (hey, one is even the president of the United States). At one point, one older guy comments that he likes women who are “plump, and juicy…and dumb,” and another shouts at a waitress ex-girlfriend (Norma Michaels), “I’m not in the habit of having my broads walk out on me.”

But the men in the story aren’t the only ones here that get a harsh brushstroke, as many of the women come across as man-hungry; usually the more attractive and least dressed, the higher the level of desperation. For example, a woman in a bikini practically drags a character into a random and spontaneous –off-camera – sex act. Another is how many women throw themselves after the obviously bewigged Grover, even though they act surprised and mean-girlish when the toup is blown.

Bob Jones
While the story is occasionally silly – and yet still entertaining – there is actually an interesting mixture of case file reality stirred with unsubstantiated (i.e., made up) killings. But the Zodiac, who is linked to about a dozen known killings, claimed in a letter to have 37 victims at one point. This gives quite the leeway for the story to imagine possibilities.

The identity of the ZK does not come as a surprise in this story, as even though masked, the body type is quite easy to spot. Fortunately, it’s not long before the film makes it clear, so it can get on with the action at hand, and there is a lot of it. The body count is quite high here, even if the caliber of acting is not. There is a lot of hand-wringing type behavior and a lot of angry shouting with face twisting. But that is part of what is enjoyable, too.

We find out before long that ZK is completely looney (here’s one part I assume that is supposed to anger the real Zodiac), believing that those he kills are enslaved to him in a nearly ritualistic, messiah complex way. This is clear in a monologue where he refers to himself as “The Supreme Zodiac.”

A nice touch, on a second viewing, is seeing some things I hadn’t noticed before, such as the link to one of the first killings, and especially of the red herrings, including the motivation for the second couple-killing, which I missed on the first run through. It’s just a few smart touches in a largely ham-fisted script. As filmmaking goes though, despite the heavy-handed story and acting, it is shot quite nicely, and there is a decent level of blood. A stabbing scene is especially effective for its budget and timeframe. This is taken from the last remaining full 35mm print left, which had been blown up from 16mm to show in theaters. What drove me most crazy though is that throughout, ZK never wears gloves and yet touches everything that would certainly be tested for prints. Funny thing is, this bothered me more than the lack of acting chops.

Another amusing thing is that even back then, there is the “Indie Rule of Cameos,” with a brief (probably one day of shooting) appearance by Doodles Weaver (who is credited as Doddles Weaver; d. 1983), as an unlikeable older man.

Towards the end, there is an attempt to “humanize” the ZK just a bit with his having issues about… well, I’m not going to say, but this is most likely another attempt to goad the real Killer. The inner monologue we hear towards the end is most likely meant to do the same.

As with many Blu-rays, there is a sea of extras, which I will unbox, out of sequence. First, there is a series of period-piece trailers that revolve around “Tabloid-Horror Trailers” (such as 1970’s Carnival of Blood, starring Burt Young). There is a 4-minute featurette called “Let’s Get This Guy: The Origin of The Zodiac Killer” (2017), which features interviews with director (and owner of a chain of pizza stores) Tom Hanson and producer Manny Nedwick, who briefly discuss how the motivation for the film came about and its aftermath. This should not be confused with the upcoming “Making Of” documentary called Zodiac Man: The True Story of the Man Who Made a Movie to Catch a Killer, which is due out in 2018 (and will undoubtedly be included on a future release of this film – or vice versa).

Hanson and Nedwick, along with members of “the AGFA Team” show up again in the commentary track. Sadly, Jim Vraney could not be on here since the Something Weird Video (SWV) founder passed away in 2014. Two members of AGFA spend the first 10 interesting (pun not intended) minutes describing their attraction to the SWV brand, and how they partnered with the estate to work on this release. Then they are joined by Hanson and Nedwick (one character in an early part of the film is named for him) who describe working on the film. Despite Hanson’s bad memory, thanks to some careful questioning by the curators, many interesting facts come out about the making of the film. It’s worth the view.

Other extras are that both a Blu-ray and DVD version of, well, everything, in included, and that there is a very nice booklet containing production credits and a print interview with Hanson. The last extra is an entire second film called, Another Son of Sam, reviewed below.

Another Son of Sam
Written, produced, edited and directed by Dave Adams
67 minutes, 1977
I don’t tell people this very often, but I went to high school with the Son of Sam’s final victim, Stacy Moskowitz. I didn’t really know her other than passing her in the hall, as she was in an entirely different social scene than mine (i.e., she was “popular,” and I didn’t have a “group”). It was still a shock, though.

This was filmed just after the Son of Sam reign of terror (but pre-trial) in New York City, though it was shot around Charlotte, NC. If you ask me, despite the title cards listing some then-recent serial killers and their body counts before the opening credits, this tale of a murderer on the loose is not really connected in any way to the infamous .44 Caliber Killer, but rather its title is intended to be a good way to grab an audience, in the same way unconnected movies are given “sequel” names (e.g., House II: The Second Story [sic] in 1987). For the record, its shooting title was Hostages.
                                                 
To be fair and more accurate, the basic premise is actually closer to Halloween (1978) than anything else, as a silent and deranged man, Harvey, escapes from an insane asylum and then goes on a killing spree. When he holes up in a college, the body count rises. There are a lot of his POV shots, peeking from behind bushes, attacking whoever comes across his path. When one is his psychologist, Dr. Daisy Ellis (Cynthia Stewart), her husband, copper Lt. Claude Setzer (Russ Dubuc) leads the entire police force out on the manhunt.

This is total psychotronic in that it’s a really cheesy film with terrible acting and a not-that-brilliant screenplay, but it is definitely an attention-keeper in its own bizarre way, if you’re into that kind of thing – which I am. There are a lot of meaningless and misleading – yet effective – jump scares.

One of the more intriguing aspects may actually be unintentional: it’s obvious that this print has been through hell over the years, with discoloration and other issues. Through the film, especially in early shots, there are a bunch of freeze frames; it could be that it was stylistic, but I’m guessing more likely the film was damaged so the images were eaten away but the soundtrack was okay. I’m hoping I’m wrong because it’s one of my favorite things about the film.

Some other interesting little bits about the film: (1) There’s some blood, but most of it is seen after the assaults; with one big exception, there’s very little actual violence seen; (2) most of the time we see Harvey, it’s pretty much the same shot of his face from above the mouth up, with shadowy lighting and his caterpillar eyebrows; (3) great period clothing on the cast; and (4) there is a scene filmed at the Treehouse Lounge nightclub (now called the Treehouse Whiskey and Fork) with Tampa Bay-based singer Johnny Charro doing his Elvis-meets-Humperdinck regional hit, “Never Said Goodbye” (which is also heard on a radio station in the film, and again with the end credits).

This is Adams’ only IMDB film credit, and relatively speaking, for the technology and the time period, it’s quite good, in a so-bad-it’s-good way. Sure, it drags a bit here and there, but mostly it’s good fun. If you’re reading this, odds are you understand what you’re getting when the word psychotronic is employed as a descriptor. All y’all enjoy!


Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Review: Effects

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017
Images from the Internet


Effects
Directed by Dusty Nelson
AGFA / Something Weird Video / Bududa Inc. / MVD Visual
84 minutes, 1980 / 2005 / 2017
https://www.americangenrefilm.com

So-called snuff films became a focus in American culture during the late 1970s and early ‘80s, in large part, for two reasons. The first was due to some pretty bad films such as Snuff (1975), which supposedly had a real snuff scene at the end (any seasoned SFX fan could see that it was fake), and the Faces of Death series (which was also bogus when concerning humans). The other was the rising video boom that was desperately in need for film fodder for fans, and would take anything they could find and put it out there in the exploding video store market. Snuff, a film that probably would have easily passed into the mire of bad cinema along with the Face of Death, found new life and became shocking sensations that made national news.

This led to a series of “realistic” releases trying to ride the wave. Hell, no one would have probably even heard the word “snuff” if it weren’t for those reasons. But it did lead us to Dusty Nelson’s film, Effects. Thanks to a revival of the VHS craze from that period, which has now passed into the nostalgia phase, companies like American Genre Film Archive (AGFA) are putting out hi-def, Blu-ray versions of these very same films. In this case, thanks to distribution and legal issues, this film was not actually released until 2005 on DVD, and now this Blu-ray from a rare print (more on the quality later). Thing is, as bad as some of these releases are, I’m glad they are given new – err – life.

Joseph Pilato, Tom Savini
Essentially, in a convoluted way, the film plays with the notions of what is real, what is pretend, and what happens when they mix in the world of film (although there are some moments that seem like it’s television). This is what is facing the dating couple of special effects expert/cameraman Dom (Joseph Pilato) and actress Celeste (Susan Chapek); they – and others – are caught in a web of confusion, like the audience. How will this effect the director, Lacey (John Harrison), fellow actors Barney (Bernard McKenna), Rita (Debra Gordon) and Nicky (SFX wizard Tom Savini in one of his early acting roles)? The big question, however, appears to be how far would/should/could one go to make a film?

Though I’m certain they were just trying to keep current, it’s interesting to me how many then-current cultural signifiers they use throughout the film, such as someone playing the electronic game Simon, or all the drug references (e.g., lines of coke and Maryjane). Then there’s the clothing, such as the common place jeans-and-tees (with images like The Rocky Horror Picture Show logo from 1977). There are other small touchstones, similar to a take-off of the Bill Saluga classic, “You doesn’thave to call me Johnson” bit.  There are more references in here than in a Family Guy episode. Heck, there’s even a bit of a soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Richard II.

Susan Chapek
Speaking of the “looks of then,” it’s amazing how the look and pacing of the film is like porn films of the period. Yeah, there’s a couple of (female) nudie scenes, such as the then-obligatory and totally unnecessary-to-the-story shower scene that opens up the pic, but nothing that would really qualify as even softcore. And yet, the feel of the film, the pacing, acting and ambiance screams late ‘70s adult cinema.

That being said, much of the cast and crew are part of the Pittsburgh area film group, which included George A. Romero (RIP). Many of the cast and crew were in front or behind (or both) the camera on numerous Romero releases. In fact, one of the lead actors, Pilato, would play a pivotal role (and have an iconic scene) in Day of the Dead (1985).

Filmed in a pre-MTV period, by the standards of even a couple of years later, the camera is quite static, with long shots and dialogue that keeps the story at a steady pace, as we get to know, although not necessarily like (which is the point), most of the main characters. The camera pretty much sits there, or just lazily cuts from character to character.

Debra Gordon (Bernard McKenna in mirror)
Along with the languid pace until the last 15 minutes, even though there are some decent moments of tension throughout, the film bleeds out rather than spurts. I wish the story was a bit clearer as it was happening, but even with all the character build-up, there isn’t much to connect to with hardly anyone. This is not helped by the very grainy visuals (shot in 16mm) and spotty sound, but I’m glad to have had a chance to see this almost-lost piece of cinema history from a very specific period of time.

The first extra is the 59-minutes documentary After Effects: Memories of Pittsburgh Filmmaking (2005; Red Shirt Pictures), directed by Michael Felsher, in which Felsher interviews the cast and crew 27 years later in Los Angeles. The arc is how the director and his team first got into making indie films (then called guerilla filmmaking) including and documentaries and commercials, and grew into raising the funds and gathering all the threads with enough cojones to make Effects. Also featured and interviewed is the late, great Romero (d. 2017). There are also some cleaned-up clips both visually and audibly from the film that I wish had been the whole film proper. Honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of watching this long featurette because I thought I was going to be bored by it for the hour, but it’s actually quite well done and kept my interest throughout. There is an additional After Effects full-length commentary with the director. Much of the talking is about the distribution deal that squashed the original film, and how it eventually came out. It’s also the link between Effects and After Effects. Not overly exciting stuff, honestly, but somewhat interesting in its historical perspective. To be truthful, I made it through about the first 20 minutes.

Next up are two rare shorts. The first is the 12-minute Ubu (1973), an experimental picture directed by John Harrison, who plays the director in Effects. He actually has a few really nice credits under his belt, including the 2000 mini-series version of Dune. Here, we meet the titular Ubu, who is the tyrant of a Dark Ages version of Poland (or, as the marionette narrator states, “that is to say, nowhere”). It’s definitely a piece for its time, in a period of paranoia about the Nixon Administration. This is followed by Dusty Nelson’s 15-minute Beastie. Chris (Paula Swart) is hitchhiking and gets picked up by George (Steve Pearson). They instantly start a relationship, and we follow it until… well, I’ll not give it away. It’s also a story of its generation, which seems to be just-post-hippie.

Last up is the 2005 full-length commentary with Nelson, Harrison and Pasquale Buba, who all make up the production company, Bududa Inc. It’s a quite decent combination of technical matters, anecdotes and intentions. They work really well together, and it shows in the way they respectfully let each other finish their own bits, such as positing what the film is actually about: “…What’s real and what’s not, and if you don’t know the difference, does it matter?” Even though it’s hard to tell who is telling what story, it really isn’t important because it’s the content of the tale that matters. It was interesting throughout.

In some ways Effects reminds me of Maniac (also 1980, and name checked in one form or another in the documentary sides, which is not surprising considering Savini also worked on that one), which also had an appearance and – err – effects by Savini. I would recommend any fan of the VHS or Pittsburgh film school to see Effects, because it is an important piece of work, even with its occasional wonkiness.