Review: Resurrection Corporation

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2021
Images from the Internet

Resurrection Corporation.
Directed by Alberto Genovese
1844 Entertainment; Loboarts Productions
77 minutes, 2021
www.facebook.com/resurrectioncorporation/
www.1844entertainment.com/resurrectioncorporation/

While this is a simply-animated cartoon, the look and feel of it may seem familiar: the graphics were based on the 1920 Wiene film, Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari, on the 100th anniversary of the original film’s release. While the story may differ, the feel of the German abstraction masterpiece is present. I recommend watching the trailer for Dr. Caligari (HERE) to catch you up beforehand, though it is not necessary for this release.

Note that there are two versions of this film, one in dubbed English, and the other in its original Italiano with Inglese subtitles. I watched (by choice) the latter, though I non capicse the language..

The artwork is very crude, which is appropriate for the German Expressionistic motif of the visuals (and story). The bending buildings, uneven windows, and twisted streets really do look like they came right out of the original Caligari. The movement of the characters is minimal, almost like shadow puppets, but the flat look is striking and extremely effective. This film also seems to take place in Germany around 1920, indicated by the horse-and-carriages and clothing. One would almost expect Sigmund Freud to show up at some point.

Bruta and Caligari

In an opening that could have been straight out of Universal’s Frankenstein (1931), our titular anti-hero, Caligari (voice of Antonio Amoruso), who is a mortician rather than a psychiatrist, has dug up a corpse with the help of his assistant, Bruta (Paola Masciadri), for an experiment to revive him back to life. Caligari looks like a younger version of his 1920 namesake, and Bruta, with her facial scars, is a bit reminiscent of Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993).

Like the original, this film is broken up into chapters (as opposed to Acts) with title cards. The translation is a bit rough at times, as it does not capture all the spoken dialogue, such as missing a “please” here, a “yes” and “understand?” there. Nothing too over-the-top that I could catch with my extremely limited knowledge of Italian, and I was easily able to follow the story.

The problem facing the good Mortician is that the titular Resurrection Corporation, run by Potriantow (Alessandro Blanchi), has figured out a way to resurrect the dead and charge them for it, so the town is full of undead zombies (not the flesh-eating kind). This takes the business away from Caligari, who at one time was a powerful business person, but now a forgotten relic.

Naturally, he is angry about the corporation and the undead who are no longer needing his services. He is trying to find his own formula to bring the dead to life, and cash in on that, and naturally take business away from the corporation. It is a premise we see in real life, as Blockbuster wiped out the small video stores, or Amazon is killing, well, nearly everything. While the story is fantasy, its theme is alive and well in the real world.

Caligari and Bruta set out to find out how Potriantow obtained his knowledge through set pieces put into chapters, including a visit to a sex-obsessed mad scientist, Viktor Lazenbhy, who’s castle interior looks very much like the Count’s in the original Dracula (1929), or perhaps more accurately, Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922).

If it isn’t clear, despite the style and some of the characters, there really is not much that links the original story of Caligari and this Caligari. However, what that does do is give the opportunity for the plot to veer in weird and various directions, and that it does. Events keep occurring that makes the viewer (i.e., me) think, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” Of course, that is all the more betterer because there is a surprise around every chapter.

One of the enjoyable elements is the humor that is both subtle and prevalent throughout the film at the oddest moments, such as a turtle being faster than the bloodthirsty demon snail creatures out for revenge that are called upon by… well, I’m not going to give it away.

It is good to pay attention to the backgrounds. You may see a lot of momentary a-has, such as a poster on the wall of the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, or Cesare, from the original Dr. Caligari. There is even a showman character named Bob Wine (Erik Martini), whose real name is Robert Wiene, the actual name of the director of the original Caligari. The film has lots of delicious wink-wink moments like these.

The film is also filled with a surprising amount of full nudity (female), sex and gore. The latter is especially prevalent, as is expected from modern German shock cinema, which focuses strongly on body horror.

The film gives an impression that it may be open for a sequel, which I would endorse, but to be honest, this is the director’s third film, the last being Sick Sock Monsters from Outer Space (aka Dolcezza Extrema, released by Troma), from 2015, and his first was L’invasione degli astronzai, from 2009. That would mean that possibly his next one might not be until 2027. I am not holding my breath.

Meanwhile, this film is available on Amazon Prime Video in the United States and the U.K.

 

Review: Orlok, the Vampire

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

Orlok, the Vampire
Directed by F.W. Murnau
Quality Cheese, MVD Visual
Appx 90 minutes, 1922 / 2009 / 2010
www.Qualitycheeseproductions.com
www.MVDvisual.com

It was a mix of cultures and styles, German Expressionist Cinema and British manners, and a legal battle that would be among the first in the burgeoning film business of Europe that resounded worldwide.

Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens, directed by F.W. Murnau in 1922, was more than loosely based on Bram Stoker’s gothic novel Dracula, nine years before Bela Lugosi would portray the villainous vampire on film, and decades before the throat-biters would narrowly be seen meekly as sensitive heartthrobs and adversaries for werewolves (and other, less brooding bloodsuckers).

Stoker’s family sued over the copyright, and won. All known copies were ordered destroyed, and it joined Edison’s Frankenstein as one of the great “lost” early film prints. But as with cinematic dinosaurs, nature finds a way, and prints started turning up over the years. As an ironic note, it was no longer under copyright during the advent of the VCR, so copies of it were everywhere, usually on cheap brands at low rez speed (ELP). I had an 8mm Blackhawk Films 200’-reel (20 minutes) version, and one of the bad VHS dubs.

Thus we come to this new release, retitled Orlok, the Vampire… in 3D, yet! Being an old black & white film, it makes total sense this could use the older technology of green and red separation. Two paper glasses are included, I should add.

All copies I’ve seen of this film over the years are a bit scratchy, and it seems each have a different set of title cards; the character names vary among the original book and the film. For example, the real estate agent in Dracula was Jonathan Harker, and in Nosferatu it was Thomas Hutter, but in this new release, it is Jonathan Hutter, a mixture of both.

It is easy to identify who is who from book to film, and Stoker's estate was right to sue (in subsequent copies, Stoker is listed as writer). There is a bit of a stir-up here, though (as Akira Kurosawa also did with Shakespeare’s plays), such as Hutter’s boss, Knock, turning into a “Renfield,” bug-eating character.

There is no denying that this is a groundbreaking and thoroughly effective, creepy film. Max Schreck, as Graf [Count] Orlok, is even taller, stiff, hunched, and lanky than Phantasm’s “Tall Man” (Angus Scrimm). Schreck presents a precedent-setting evil figure. Many elements of Murnau version have become iconic, such as Orlok’s raising out of his grave from horizontal to vertical while stiff as a board, used in Coppola’s Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1992, and the 1979 remake by Werner Herzog; it’s been copied more than Potemkin’s baby carriage step-bounce (just imagine all the scenes that Brian De Palma could have – err – honored if he had made a remake).

There are so many other moments of brilliance in Mureau’s version, such as Orlok's face sticking through his busted wooden coffin lid, when he stalks Ellen (Mina) from the window across the courtyard, or when the shadow of Orlok’s hand “grabs” Ellen’s heart. Without the over-exaggeration common in German Expressionism such as Metropolis and The Cabinet of Dr. Cagliari, this film still retains much of its eerie flavor nearly 90 years later.

The print here is decent, though I do dream of a “restored” version (but as far as I know one does not exist). As for the 3D effects, added by Chris Heuer, it should be pointed out that not all of it is in that format, reserved mainly for scenes with the vampire, the title cards, and the occasional bat used for separating acts (though it goes by so fast, it’s hard to tell if it actually is in 3D with the glasses). The new soundtrack is a bit too fluffy and not sinister enough though, and the grunts and noises the characters make are a bit distracting, so I recommend watching it with the sound off, or turned way down.

This film is a classic. It’s still a joy to watch for me, even after numerous viewings over the years. The camera work and editing is revolutionary, and the actors are still sharp – although they do the typical hands-flinging-about emoting that was common in silent films, a throwback from the non-amplified theater stages. Orlok – even in 3D – is worth a see, and re-viewing.

There are limited extras here, and in fact, there are strangely no chapter breaks, so if you stop and start again, you have to zoom to your last spot. However, there are two different versions on the DVD, one with the 3D and one in normal 2D. Also, there is a bizarre introduction by Troma master Lloyd Kaufman, who does what I’m pretty sure is an off-the-cuff spiel that is so ludicrous – and hysterically funny – that he even refers to this 1922 film as a remake of Schindler’s List! Can a 3D Toxie be far behind?

This review was originally published in FFanzeen.blogspot.com