Showing posts with label American sleaze. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American sleaze. Show all posts

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

Scream Bloody Murder (1973)

Title Scream Bloody Murder
Origin USA, 1973
Genre Thriller: Psycho / Slasher
Director Marc B. Ray
Starring Fred Holbert, Leigh Mitchell
Music Don Bagley
Blurb A psycho murderer on the rampage...

Here we have a low-budget vintage American slasher that's been doing the rounds of the bargain-bin labels. You never know what you're getting with these things. Surprisingly often you'll find a real gem buried amongst the refuse.

Filmed in 1971 Scream Bloody Murder is from an era mid way between the Sixties Psycho derived suspense chillers which explored the twisted motivations of their psychopathic killers, and the Seventies slasher genre which focussed on the stalking and demise of their victims and little else. It's a long shot, but maybe this title could offer the best of both worlds?

The pre-title sequence gets straight down to business. Young farmboy Matthew flattens his father with a bulldozer as soon as he is big enough to climb on it all by himself. The obviously mentally troubled boy is sent off to the special hospital to live with the nice nuns until he's better. Returning home supposedly aged seventeen or so (though he looks about thirty) and disfigured by a claw for a hand (the bulldozer incident did not leave him unscathed) Matthew (Fred Holbert) eagerly anticipates the warmest of welcomes from his beloved widowed mother.

In the circumstances it was insensitive timing indeed of Mama to be getting re-married at that precise hour! But very welcome timing for the audience - it means we won't be wasting precious minutes with boring scenes of plot exposition whose only point is to make the story look remotely plausible.

Mother and Father Matthew lays down the law to his parents.

Download clip (Rapidshare)
(2:36 min, 320 x 240, 9.6MB)

Matthew is dismayed to find he has a new (spit) "father", and very disappointed with Mama. With her Victorian demeanour and dress sense (she wears a shawl - and means it!) he thought she was the very ideal of loving, sexless maternity. You know, the sort of mother who would throw herself out of the house for getting pregnant. The situation is clearly intolerable.

One blood-bath later Matthew is on the run. Hitching a lift with a bright young couple he starts to relax and make friends. Passing a sparkling mountain stream they suggest a swim. If only they had brought their bathing costumes! There follows the worst skinny-dipping scene in cinema history. The cheeky couple splash around in ankle-deep water after only taking their socks off. But for Matthew that's enough to make them Wicked People who have to die.

The body count rising impressively, Matthew, haunted by guilt-driven psychedelic visions of his murdered mother, arrives at a small coastal town. Probably somewhere in California, but definitely the sort of place where hippies congregate. Matthew meets attractive artist Vera (Leigh Mitchell) outside her shack/hovel type place and impresses her with his insanely bloodthirsty interpretation of an abstract painting she's working on.

Here we come to the crux of the story. Matthew seems to be hitting it off with Vera. She even allows him to call her Daisy, his mother's name. Has he found his ideal woman, the one who will allow him to finally grow up, forget his mother, and banish his Oedipal demons?

"Daisy" puts her foot down (and in it). She's an independent woman and won't have anyone else telling her what to do. If she wants to sleep with every drunken sailor that comes along she bloody well will do and there's nothing he or anyone else can do to stop her. In an ideal world Matthew would decide then and there that she was a Wicked Person who had to die, then just get on with the rest of his life.

House-hunting The kitchen maid, the most brutal and effective of the killings.

Download clip (Rapidshare)
(1:44 min, 320 x 240, 6.5MB)

Against his better judgement Matthew tries to win the heart of this self-indulgent slut and save her from herself. Which, applying his usual methods, means finding an opulent mansion, killing the occupants, stealing their Rolls-Royce, and chauffeuring Daisy back there in it where he can keep her tied up like some kind of pet. To Matthew's anguish Daisy does not enjoy a single minute of his attempts to bring her happiness and security. At especially bad moments she even starts to cry.

Matthew is clearly the worst type of psychopath, not a sadist but the kind that ends up torturing his victims to make them happy. One thing about him is making me curious: that hook for a hand. I wonder why he doesn't get rid of it and get by with just the stump. He seems slightly embarrassed by it, trying to hide it sometimes, and he never uses it for anything, not even his murders. Though it seems custom made for ripping flesh from bone, he chooses to kill with entirely unsuitable objects instead (eg. an artist's palette knife). It's almost as if so long as he doesn't resort to using the hook it's not a real murder. What a peculiar young man.

Pleasing Miss Daisy Threats and silly lines are the way to deal with this ungrateful woman.

Download clip (Rapidshare)
(1:38 min, 320 x 240, 6.0MB)

Leigh Mitchell plays the role of "Daisy" rather well. She looks good from a distance, but then we get a close-up of her face and realise that like Fred Holbert she's really too old for the role. But never mind, her escape attempt is classic. Tied hand and foot she bounds around like a kangaroo, dials a telephone with her tongue, and frantically manipulates a doorknob with her naked feet. It excites a whole bunch of kinks I never even knew I had.

Like every other action sequence, this escape scene presses the right buttons but ends up looking utterly ridiculous. Though not ridiculous in a contemptible way. Just a sort of bizarre other-worldly ridiculous. Dealing with the incongruity of the comic elements is the key to being able to enjoy a film like this. The embarrassment of feeling you're laughing at the wrong times can bring on yet more laughter. Is Matthew swinging an axe and shouting "I'll be right there Mama!" supposed to be funny? There is obviously much deliberate black humour, but I doubt this was intended to be a comedy any more than was Hitchcock's Psycho.

Judged on appropriate standards this film is a great success. It makes up for a lack of budget with inspired choice of locations and intense (if a little cliched) photography. The acting is marred by some very wooden delivery of the lines, but the physical interaction between the stars is mostly very good. Pacing is excellent, director Marc B. Ray taking his time where necessary over individual scenes, but making sure that overall the telling of the story is rapid and tight. Scream Bloody Murder is terrific entertainment for those with a black sense of humour and a better than average capacity for suspension of disbelief.

Ratings

Quality: 5/10   Fun: 9/10

Review copy

Publisher Boulevard Entertainment
Format DVD Region 0, NTSC 4:3
Certificate 15 (UK) (cut)
Image Poor, slightly sidecropped, also squeezed making things a little tall and thin

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Sketches of a Strangler (1978)

TitleSketches of a Strangler
OriginUSA, 1978
GenreThriller: Stalker
DirectorPaul Leder
StarringAllen Goorwitz, Meredith MacRae
MusicArlon Ober
BlurbA disturbed art student uses his desire to paint beautiful women as a guise to get them alone. These women of the night, prostitutes and exotic dancers, become the victims of his fits of passion.

Here's an obscure offering from a straight-to-bargain-bin label I usually wouldn't look at twice, but picking up the case and turning it over I was intrigued. What is this thing? There are three very odd screenshots on the back. A belly dancer, a woman robed like an angel, and a fat, pensive-looking looking man. The effect is so endearingly amateurish I wondered if I'd come across a unique, no-budget, undiscovered gem.

After only a moment's watching I put those hopes to rest. This is obviously just some routine American TV thriller, though I was right to think "obscure" and "no-budget". I wondered why anyone would bother releasing it, but settled down to watch till the end with the usual grim determination I reserve for junk I've actually paid for. Amazingly, it turned out to be exactly the kind of awful species of delirium I dream of stumbling across. This is my pick for the first review on this blog, and possibly its first serious online review.

It's a cliched set-up. A glamorous but ageing prostitute alone in a hotel room, a knock at the door, enter Jack (Allen Goorwitz), the shy thirtysomething fat boy who never grew up. Some hesitant monosyllabic bargaining and they get down to business. In a simple but very effective vignette he moves to strangle her, one-handed, his face turning beetroot-red with the brute force required.

So we know who the serial killer is, how can he be stopped? This prostitute has a twin sister (Meredith MacRae), a dowdy teacher who jets into LA (accompanied by some groovy Seventies disco) to meet the detectives assigned to the case. She resolves to avenge her sister by posing as a hooker to trap the killer before he strikes again. Clearly this is a suicidally stupid idea (how's she going to recognise him? A-ha, by getting strangled of course!), and she is firmly told so, but is determined to press ahead with her plan anyway.

What do we know about Jack? Well, he's an amateur artist, this hobby being his only way of meeting women. Always totally unsuitable women too, tarts, strippers, and most memorably an ageing ex-starlet earning crumbs as an artists' model. He lives a comfortable life supported by matronly older sister Eileen. She finds the lazy slob exasperating, but nevertheless dotes upon him. Eileen is impressed by a crusading stage evangelist (she's the one pictured on the back cover in "angel" pose) and the poor boy is badgered into leafleting for her on the streets. Could it be that Jack is not the only one with sex problems? Perhaps mother problems too!

Those are the ingredients, what does director Paul Leder (I Dismember Mama, The Baby Doll Murders) make of them? Well, after a slow start, he slowly stirs the mix into a delightful, hilarious mess. Bad dialogue and worse acting only serve to bring his considerable visual flair into sharper focus. I'm sure he had a serious and suspenseful chiller in mind, and to the forgiving viewer this sincerity of intention brings humour and charm to a work that viewed objectively would be an embarrassing disaster.

A theatre hosts a bizarrely staged sermon against the "obscenity" of the "evening news". A nightclub belly-dancer works her act into an absurd frenzy to impress the impassively sketching Jack. A hackneyed breakfast-table scene with the detective's neglected, be-curlered wife ("I like young boys!") brings on splutters of genuine laughter. Best of all, a twee and stilted piece of sitting-room flirting evolves into a truly chilling scene of murder as grim music rises and the camera slowly zooms in on the face of the killer.

I call this a delicious piece of trash, certainly recommended for the sleaze connoisseur in search of ever more obscure morsels to feed his addiction. You want it, you need it!

Youtube clip: Life class
how Jack reacts when asked to sketch a real live naked woman

Ratings

Quality: 2/10   Fun: 8/10

Review copy

PublisherILC Prime
FormatDVD Region 0, PAL 4:3
Certificate15 (UK)
ImageTypical nasty sub-VHS upscaled from NTSC complete with interlacing artefacts