Review: Bloodsucking Nazi Zombies

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



Bloodsucking Nazi Zombies
Written and directed by A.M. Frank (aka Jesus Franco)
Cheezy Flicks / MVD Video
82 minutes, 1981/2011
www.Cheezflicks.com
www.MVDvisual.com
Sometimes one can tell how bad a film is just by how many names it goes by, especially if it came out in Europe during the 1980s. Now, the director is Jesus Franco under the pseudonym A.M. Frank (I’m guessing as in “I Am Franc[o]), so the expectation should be low in the first place. While it’s original incarnation was as L'abîme des morts vivants, its English releases alone include The Treasure of the Living Dead, The Oasis of the Living Dead, Oasis of the Zombies, The Walking Nazi Dead, Nazi Zombies,, and this release of BNZ.

Here is the basic premise of the plot: Nazis were trucking gold through Northern Africa (Morocco?) during Dubbya Dubbya Dos, when they were attacked by the Allies at an oasis in the desert, and now they have returned from the dead to protect said gold in the form of flesh-eatin’ zombs. The college-age son of one of the sole Allied survivor decides to find the treasure after his dad is killed by a greedy turncoat. Along with a couple of buds, they run into the traitor, some hot women who come along for the ride, and, of course, some of those pesky, slow-moving meat chompers.

While the whole shebang is a bit of fun (after all, it is a Franco film), it’s also a lot of fluff (after all, it is a Franco film). There are more questions than answers by the end, and on so many different levels. For example:

If it is Nazi zombies protecting the gold, how come we never see any Nazis? Yes, there is a swastika on an overturned jeep, but all the zombies have (relatively) long hair and no uniforms. I’m guessing these are supposed to be the victims who have turned into zombies themselves, but there is not a single Nazi in sight, nor any of the post-dead over the age of, say, mid-20s.

I’m just guessing here that the original, foreign-language dialog was written by Franco, but the English translation I am assuming was not? There is almost a Firesign Theater-type disconnect from the action actually happening on screen and what the characters are saying. As an example, the night after a zombie attack where part of the son’s troupe is killed, this lighthearted dubbed interchange takes place:
Male: Shit!
Female: You say “shit” like you’re from Brooklyn.
Male: Yeah, a real native.
What the hell?

Another is a scientist, commenting on the zombie attack, who makes that old grade school joke, “They came out of the sand which is there.”

And as for that attack, I wonder, would these kids really be making out, joking around, etc., that soon after a violent run-in with the post-dead? For me, I would be out of there soooo fast. A part of Eddie Murphy’s routine from Delirious when he’s discussing the film The Amityville Horror comes to mind.

The zombies seemly attack at night during the main part of the story (they fade into the air when the sun hits them), but how come they came out during the day to attack two women tourists during the prolog? And if the victims come back to be zombies themselves, how come all the zombies are male? And why only when women are attacked, do the zombies rip off their clothes before eating… well, I can guess the answer to that: it’s the 1980s!

Despite the cheesy writing, amateurish special effects (including puppets), grainy and sometimes unfocused film (actually, this may be a transfer to DVD taken directly from a VHS), inconsistent tone of the characters, an over the top hammy death scene (play the trailer below), and some of the serious questions I’ve listed below, only one piece of dialog really bothered me (even more than the Brooklyn comment): After the only survivors of the attack come out alive, a rescuing Bedouin asks one of them, “Did you find what you were looking for?” The response is, “I mainly found myself.” Well, bully for you! What about the rest of your friends and others of your party who are toast? So glad he found himself at the expense of so many others. Yes, I talked back to the screen, possibly even insulting the character’s mother.

Oh, and I realize this is looking back to the 1980s through a post-9/11 rearview mirror, but watching long leggy beautiful actresses walk around Muslims praying made me just a little, well, self-conscious of Western imperialism.

This film is typical of many Euro-trash horror genre of the ‘80s, with a weak story and made on a low budget (some exceptions are those by Fulci and Argento), but also characteristic is the factor of enjoyment in their ineptitude, perhaps even more so because of it, and this is no exception. I’ve been watching some indie films that have been released in the last few years, such as Bill Zebub’s Worst Horror Movie Ever Made, Creep Creepersin’s Frankenstein, and Matthew Kohnen's Ahhh! Zombies!!, and nearly all of them are usually equally entertaining (if not more so), have a stronger factor of creativity (well, Zebub’s work is usually borderline as much as I like some of it), and especially a robust sense of not taking themselves too seriously that most Euro releases from the period severely lack.

That being said, BNZ is the kind of film that is a lot more fun to watch with a crowd than in a lonely garret, so grab your food and beverage of choice (mine would be, of course, some White Castle and Manhattan Special Espresso Coffee Soda), and hunker down to groan in delight. And feel free to yell at the screen.

This review was originally published on FFanzeen.blogspot.com

Review: True Love Ways

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018

Images from the Internet

True Love Ways

Directed by Mathieu Seiler

Grand Hotel Pictures; Klusfilm Berlin;
ARRI Film and TV Services; Synergetic Distribution; MVD Visual

95 minutes, 2015

www.mvdvisual.com

Germany is familiar with cinema of the strange in the past few decades. Just look at the likes of the extremely other-there Nekromantic (1987), or even Run Lola Run (1998) as examples.

Anna Hausburg and Kai Michael Muller

For this film, named after a Buddy Holly posthumous rock’n’roll romantic classic from 1960 (which we hear more than once in the film), it opens on the strained relationship between our heroine, Séverine (the lovely Anna Hausburg) and her boyfriend Tom (Kai Michael Müller), with the former telling the latter that she doesn’t love him, but rather has given her heart to someone of whom that she dreamed; to me, his reactions says a lot about why she needs to dump his ass.

Speaking of reactions, the first couple of acts of the film are set at a very languid pace, like being on a rowboat meandering down a river, with little dialog, as Séverine sits in a park watching people, spending the night by herself, or driving down the road chewing both her hair and gum with the camera mainly focused on her face. Within those times, however, there are some disturbing moments of her wondering, “okay, who should I trust?” This paranoia also is placed on the audience by some creepy goings-on that I will very lightly touch on to not give too much away.

Muller and David C. Bunners

At a bar, after Séverine chucks Tom outta da co-joint for a few days, he goes to a bar where he meets Chef (David C. Bunners), who suggests that he will kidnap Séverine and then Tom would come to the rescue and be her “Tarzan.” With other events that happen in the meanwhile, during the ebb and flow of the day mentioned above, the audience can’t help wonder if this is part of a larger event.

About half way through the film, the pieces of some of the events that happened before and why the Chef is so interested in Séverine start to become clearer. And yes, it’s even creepier than you’d expect. We get to figure it out the same time as her, and that’s when the film shifts gears into overdrive. Yet, and this is where I find the film is playing with us, there are still moments of long silence and little movement, that in the heightened state of tension and adrenaline, are nail-biting thriller moments. Again, you know Séverine is feeling the same. It’s really well written that the audience gets to not just sympathize, but empathize, because you’re feeling a bit of what she is experiencing (without us being in real danger).

While definitely a sharp (and occasionally darkly humorous) thriller, some have referred to this as a kunstfilm (art film), and not just because it’s in black-and-white. It’s the pacing, the way the music works with the film beyond jump scares, but it’s not obnoxiously so. In other words, most art films try so hard to be ar-tay, that they become obtuse and confusing. There is none of that here. There are also few weird angles, other than multiple long close-ups of Séverine’s face.

The good news is that Hausburg is talented enough that with the extreme close-ups and lack of dialogue, it still is easy to read the broad emotional range she expresses (i.e., no “Blue Steel” vs. “Magnum”).

As always, the bad guys underestimate Séverine; while she’s no hired assassin like in the predictable and ordinary Final Girl (2015), she is extremely resourceful and works her way through situations (which we get to watch, step by step by facial expression).

The one cliché that is easy to predict in the film regards a tavern owner. I actually said, out loud as soon as she walked into the bar, “Oh, really?! C’mon!” But in a film that’s over 90 minutes, I can forgive it considering how much else is going on.

What really drove me crazy is the Tom character. Hero? Villian? No matter, he’s an asshole, that’s for sure. I’m not going to go into details, but like the male protagonist in Run Lola Run, I have no respect for him.

Sometimes arty films can be especially bloody, such as with Nekromantik, or Miike’s Audition (1999), and while it’s not overly done or in super-graphic detail like many Euro-body horror releases, there is definitely a spurting of the stuff. That being said, there will be a contingent with whom I agree to some level, who will argue that the males are killed pretty quickly, but it’s the women who receive the brunt of the brutality.

Okay, I know I’ve made a couple of complaints, and they seem valid to me, but overall this is quite the stunning picture. Sure, not necessarily a date flick (depending on your companion, of course), but it really is a beautiful piece of cinema, and much of that is directly is in the lap of Hausburg and her mighty-fine acting. My fear is that it will be remade in the Western Hemisphere, and the Séverine character will be played by someone like Chloë Grace Moretz or Abigail Breslin (who’s IMDB’s bio laughingly states is one of the “most sought after actors of her generation”), who cannot really do the heavy lifting acting that would be necessary to match Hausburg.

The only extra on this DVD is the chapters; the captions are imprinted onto the film.

Séverine certainly lives up to her name. Loving her would be severe, and threatening her would be even more so, judging by the actions here. She’s a bit nuts, but borderline enough that you’d have to be intimate with her to see just how around the bend she is. Part of the explanation and what is interesting on a few levels is that the ending is both a WTF and an Ohhhh-I-see moment. You certainly don’t see that occur much anymore.

Review: Seven Dorms of Death

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016

Images from the Internet

Seven Dorms of Death

Directed and edited by Richard Griffin

Scorpio Films Releasing / MVD Visual

80 minutes / 2015

www.facebook.com/Seven-Dorms-of-Death

www.mvdvisual.com

I am not sure if this would fall under the umbrella of DC or Marvel (or Archie), but if director Richard Griffin were to be considered a superhero, his power would certainly be taking used-up ideas and bringing new life into them. Wes Craven (d. 2015, RIP) is credited with doing that with the slasher genre when he released Scream (1996), but other than a huge budget, he gets to be the sidekick in my fantasy. Not to take away credit for any of his amazing earlier ground-breaking films, but when it comes to the rejuvenation of a subgenre, it would be hard to find someone to outmatch Griffin, considering the budgetary restraints and sheer volume of his output. I have not seen a single release of his to date that I would not recommend.

Yes, I’ve said this before, and I may repeat it every time I see one of Griffin’s films, that no matter what the genre he tackles (Shakespeare is next, I hear), I look forward to sitting down and turning on one of his films for the first, and even second or more times.

In the video nasty days of the 1980s, during the cheapie VHS phase of indie filmmaking, there was a different mindset to making a movie. Now, shooting, in itself, is no extra cost because it’s all digital, including the editing. Back in the day, though, getting film was much harder, and getting good quality material was even more difficult (i.e., it cost much more; and that expense doesn’t even go into the area of processing). Because of that, it was rare for reshoots, and it was realistic policy to employ as much of the processed film that could be used. If there was an accident, or an anachronism, it was either dealt with in editing, or most likely given an “oh, well…”stance. Fixing it in post was much more difficult, and also highly less likely.

Classic old guy giving the "you're all gonna die" warning"

It is with this premise as a motif that we are introduced to the 1983 Dunwich High School theater troupe, filled with ‘80s cliché characters, such as the pretty boy with attitude, the virgin, the cool/mean girl, the long Jeri-curled black guy, and the weird hippie occultist. Being a horror film based on the that period, there’s lots of H.P. Lovecraft references, a particular metal band mentioned often supposedly to try to connect with its audience of demographically teenaged boys, and some sex, nudity and, that tried-and-true trope that exists even today, the unnecessary-to-the-story shower scene.

It would be nearly impossible to categorize all of the intentional mistakes that were put in the film; blink and you could miss the script person in the scene, or the dead body breathing, or an actor looking for his mark. It’s also pretty obvious that the masked killer is played by numerous people, and the way Griffins concludes this particular cliché is, frankly, hysterical. In fact, the whole film is hilarious because of these inclusions. It may take a few recommended viewings to play Spot the Mistake-ake-ake-ake [supposed to sound like a fading emphasis echo]. Don’t make it a drinking game, though, or I guarantee a hospital visit.

Aaron Andrade as Vargas

The (again, purposeful) overacting, especially by the head police detective Vargas (Aaron Andrade), is so painfully bad that it’s stellar. The virginal heroine is named, of course, Severin (Anna Rizzo, wearing Catholic school girl attire, rather than shiny boots of leather), is nerdy-cute, and tackles the role with gusto. Another standout character is ace Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter for the Pennysaver, Jane Peach (Laura Pepper), who amusingly and effectively brings back the quick-style dialogue reading of the 1940s, often employed by the likes of either Katherine Hepburn or especially Rosalind Russell (as a example, see His Girl Friday [1940]).

The body count is high and the gore is, well, strange. There is a lot of it, but much of it is just plain (and, once again, purposefully) silly. That also makes it part of the fun, whose quotient is exceedingly high in this film. And though taking place in the early 1980s (i.e., was supposed to be filmed then), Griffin still finds a way to work in gender/sexuality politics, and rightfully so, especially in this present political climate, similar to the homophobic Reagan regime.

This is supposed to be, in part, a reflection of the guiallo European films, such as Jesse Franco’s, but for me this comes across as very American, as small companies tried to cash in on the quickly expanding VHS market (whose biggest sellers were horror and porn) as major companies still eyed the cinema showcases, i.e., theaters. However, the ending of this film is straight out of a Lucio Fulci (d. 1996) playbook, especially like The Beyond (1981, aka Seven Doors of Death, along with a multitude of translated names).

The film reminds me of an earlier (and also excellent) Griffin comedic horror film, The Sins of Dracula (2015), though both approach the topic differently. In each release, it’s a theater troupe that’s in danger (here it’s overaged high schoolers; in Sins it is Community Theater) from murder and the occult. This is also helped by the sharp blue and red lighting, which are employed in both. I suggest not seeing one or the other, though, but rather both, as one shows what happens when the film technique is successful, and one where it is played as wonky.

But oh, there is so much more. The framework around the film is that it is being shown on a Monster Chiller Horror Theatre type program called Baron Von Blah’s Celluloid Crypt, with the venerable stage actor Michael Thurber playing the Baron, which mixes a bit of Count Floyd and his own scene stealing Roger Keller character from 2013’s short “Crash Site.” This is meant as a compliment, of course. Within the bookends and inserts within the film, we see fake commercials and promos (e.g., a trailer for Dracula’s House of Sadism), which essentially are shorts (very short) mostly directed by Griffin, but also the likes of Alex DiVincenzo (whose other worthwhile shorts have also been reviewed on this blog, but I digress…).

Michael Thurber as your host, Baron Von Blah

Taken all together, this is a beautifully hot mess, that any fan of the genre will watch with glee in the same way one would watch an April Fool’s version of The Simpsons or Family Guy (also taking place in Rhode Island!), where the references are more visual than just verbal connections.

One can’t help but admire Griffin’s acumen in such an output of films, and his merry band of actors keeps on growing – and coming back – which shows that they know they are dealing with quality product, writing (the main story here by Matthew Jason Walsh), and dedication. And there is so much for the growing fan base to enjoy, as well.