Left Turn at Albuquerque: The Wrong Turn Franchise

When I started this project, I actually thought I hadn't seen the first Wrong Turn. Even going into it, it seemed both familiar and completely new. By the end of the film, I realized that I had not only seen it once, I'd probably seen it a good half dozen times over the years. With performances from some of my favorites, Jeremy Sisto (Six Feet Under), Desmond Harrington (Dexter) and Eliza Dushku (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), it shouldn't have been a surprise that I'd seen the flick before. What really surprised me was that such a nondescript slasher could have spawned a franchise of four more films. So, feeling pretty safe in the assumption that I hadn't seen the other four flicks, I strapped in for a work week of Wrong Turn films to see where the franchise stayed between the lines and where it took some detours onto shaky ground. 

Return from Death a.k.a Frankenstein 2000 (1991) Joe D'Amato Brings Horror to Life

Despite the fact that the phrase an "average Joe" remains in the lexicon of colloquialisms, in the last thirty years the name Joe has taken a drastic drop in popularity. It seems that the average on "Joe" just isn't what it used to be. Speaking of Joes that'd defy the average, there's one that I like who frequently has highs and lows above a median line, and that is Joe D'Amato. Born Aristide Massaccesi, the Italian exploitation master, who hid out under a number of Nom de plumes apart from his adopted moniker,  made an incredible string of almost 200 films before he died in 1999 at the age of sixty-two. While most of them ranged from soft-core to hard-core to oh, my, is it okay to film that?, D'Amato is best known for his horror movies, specifically Antropohagus, Buio Omega, and Absurd, but there was one that has somehow flown under my radar. So join me as Joe takes us on a futuristic ride, which looks like the 80s despite being filmed in the 90s, this is Return from Death (Ritorno Dallas morte) a.k.a Frankenstein 2000. 

Don't Go in the Lightning Bug's Lair #5: Don't Go in the House (1979)

So far on the Don't Go in the Lightning Bug's Lair Halloween countdown, we've been told to don't go in the woods (twice), don't scream, don't sleep, don't look in the basement or open the door, and now, worst of all, we can't even go in the house. At this time of year, when the nights get chilly, I know the place I want to be most is ensconced in my house with a warm mug of cider and a roaring fire in the fireplace. I never seem to have any cider and the Lair didn't come with a fire place, but it still sounds like a good idea to be inside curled up with a good movie. Coming in at number five on the countdown, Don't Go in the House, about a young man with aspirations to be the next H.H. Holmes crossed with Norman Bates and the bad guy from Backdraft, has the kind of horror heat to keep you toasty on these nippy nights. 

Bad Milo (2013) Sometimes It Takes Guts.

So today's review is going to get a little personal. It's going to get deep, and by deep I mean that deep down churning feeling when guts twist and distend, when the abdomen cramps and the body heaves into a cold sweat. Everyone has felt it from time to time. Food poisoning and sickness cam often bring such a condition on, but for an unlucky few, allergies or stress can cause such an episode and really put a damper on general existence. I myself have had a lifelong intolerance of the lactose variety. Certainly there are ways to avoid milk, soy or rice alternatives, the Lactaid products, balancing probiotics, but no matter what, let's face it, milk is delicious, and it's in everything. So generally, I just deal with it. I might not eat cereal or milk all the time, but cheese, you've had cheese, right? That's some good stuff.

Over the years this has lead to much consideration of my bowels, and at one point in my life, I faced the inevitability of ulcers if I didn't change my diet and reduce stress. I had been going through intestinal spasming, which is as fun feeling as it is to think about. With changes to my eating habits and less fucks given than ever before, I managed to avoid further complications and drink less milkshakes. (This really ruins things when I go to a There Will Be Blood themed party.) By now, you have to be wondering why you're reading so much about my gastroenterological woes, and there is a good reason. I think it puts be in a special place to talk about today's film, Bad Milo, because like myself, part of the film's protagonist is intolerant, but, instead of a tummy ache, part of his tummy puts the hurt on someone else.

American Mary (2012) Mary, Mary, Why you Buggin'?

I always worry about medical students. After all, there is a fine line between “I want to cut this guy open and save him” and “I want to cut this guy open and mess around in his bits for shits and giggles“. While both parties might think slicing open the human body is a fun time, I do wonder who gets more out of it, the surgeon who is paid big bucks or the killer who does it just for the enjoyment. The lead character of the Soska Sister's second film, American Mary, walks a number of fine lines, morally, sexually, and professionally over the course of the film. It is the lead character's ability to navigate these split hair differences (for better or worse) that propels the action and this thriller, yes, thriller, toward a blood drenched conclusion. So come with me as I slice my way into the world of underground surgery, body modification, and lots and lots of blood that is American Mary.

The Bigger & Badder Halloween Top 13: #11 Night of the Lepus (1972)

Many people would say that rabbits are not vicious creatures. Instead, they think them merely herbivores who are fluffy, hop along, and wiggle their little cotton ball tail. First off all, ask any hunter with a speech impediment, and they will tell you that rabbits are rascally or, to be accurate, wascally. However, I think that the best source of information about the species can be found from your friendly local enchanter. Mine happens to be a fellow called Tim. You may have seen him in a movie once. Well he told me that, “That’s the most foul, cruel, bad tempered rodent you will ever see in your life.” Naturally I scoffed at that because seriously who is named Tim the Enchanter anyway. Though, when I watched today’s film, Night of the Lepus, his words sprang, or should I say hopped, right into my mind. As I sat there watching Janet Leigh, DeForest Kelley, and Stuart Whitman fight off an onslaught of enormous rabbits, the words of Time rang in my ears, “death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth.” 

Friday the 13th: A New Beginning (1985) See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Kill Me, Tommy

After only two installments of the Halloween franchise, they tried to leave Michael Myers by the wayside with the maligned entry in the series Halloween III: Season of the Witch. While I love III (and if you haven’t seen the new edition put out by Shout! Factory you’re missing out on the best version of the film out there), the masses in general demanded their Shape, and sure enough six years later the franchise was born again in Halloween IV: The Return of Michael Myers. However, the man in the Shatner mask was not the only slasher whose franchise tried to leave him behind. Such was also the case in today’s film, Friday the 13th: A New Beginning. Eschewing a numerical mark on this entry in the series, A New Beginning tries to become a jumping off point to leave the mythos of Mrs. Voorhees, Baghead Jason, and the hockey mask in the dust thanks to the murderous hands of Corey Feldman in Friday the 13th IV: The Final Chapter. We all know how well that worked out. However, director Danny Steinmann, who also wrote the film, crafted a tale which is deeply flawed, but it also manages to draw from the well from which so many slashers spring, the Italian giallo. So join me for this trip to slasher country where A New Beginning slowly and surely gives way to a new life for Jason Voorhees.

Friday the 13th Part 3: A New Dimension in Mediocrity

Camp, I’ll be the first to tell you that I never went. My one aborted effort ended up with me coming home in the middle of the night rather than staying one moment more. While some may say that I missed out, and that I would never know the joys of making a wallet or swimming in a muck filled lake, I think I’m good with that. Over the years here at the Lair, I’ve talked about a lot of campers, but I’m still making my way through the most famous group of all, alumni of Camp Crystal Lake. So today I’m turning an eye to the Voorhees clan’s hat trick, and first appearance of the hockey mask,  Friday the 13th Part 3. Presented in 3-D, or 2-D with some rather silly scenes intended for the third dimension, which is how I watched it, this third entry (like the fourth after it) was intended to bring to franchise to a close. Yet, how can it, when every year there’s a waiting list for parents looking to send their snot nosed kid off to Voorhees country for a summer of terror. As long as they keep making teens and sending them into the woods, Jason is going to be there to hack them up.

Mental Health Awareness Month: Deranged: Confessions of a Necrophile (1974)

If there was such a thing as a poster boy for Mental Health Awareness Month here at The Lair, I think that Ed Gein might be in the running for the job. Not only was he a cannibal and ruthless killer with  a flair for home décor that included human skin, Gein has served as the inspiration for a host of horror titles throughout the years.  The most famous flicks inspired by the Butcher of Plainfield are, of course, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and Tobe Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Psycho turns Gein into a cross dressing mama’s boy while TCM spins the killer into a whole family of miscreants with strange thoughts about interior design. Today’s film, released the same year as Texas Chainsaw, took a more straightforward approach to the subject, and presents a documentary style that is reminiscent of The Legend of Boggy Creek. However, with Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things and Popcorn director Alan Ormsby behind the camera, the movie throws out more than a few crazy moments.

Blood Trail (1997): Bloody Trails to You, 'Til We Meet Again

The history of America's expansion into the West is a tale that can't be told without a certain amount of blood. The sands of the West ran red with the life force of both native and settlers, and the sanguine soaked history has lead to the Western genre of films being one of the most violent. That's what always makes me think the Western would really be interesting with some Horror infused into it. Somewhere between the jangle of spurs, there should be room for zombies. slashers, ghosts, and maybe even a vampire or two. Today's feature, an under-appreciated indie film coming out of Texas, is perhaps the best example of the two genre's gettin' hitched. Combining a slasher sensibility with a  supernatural story and a cast that looks (and acts) like the supporting cast of Tombstone, Barry Tubb's Blood Trail blazes a new path for Six Gun terror, and it even brought along a pair of Texas singer-songwriter legends for good measure. So, saddle up, folks, as National Blood Donation takes up Horace Greeley's sage advice and heads toward the setting sun and into the Weird, Weird West.

Blood Simple (1984):'Cause When Blood Gets Difficult Things Get Really Messy

Before Raising Arizona made it cool to put a panty on your head, before the Dude abided, and way before No Country for Old Men made cattle guns the 'it' thing for the hip killer on the streets, the Coens started off their career with Blood Simple, a flick that brought the Noir of the 40s right into the neon arms of the 80s. While the screenplay was wholly original, the Brothers took the title of their film from a passage in famed pulp novelist Dashiell Hammett's novel Red Harvest. In the novel, Hammett describes blood simple as the addled, fearful mindset of people after a prolonged immersion in violent situations. A perfect term to describe the reactions of many of the characters in the Coen's films, and it fits this film like a glove. Violence, greed, lust, and suspicion are the engine that fuels this film, and with a coterie of astounding performers, the Coen's kicked off their careers with a movie that is anything but simple.

Bloodrayne (2005): Glad I Packed My Bloodbrella

I thought more about not reviewing this movie than I ever had any movie before. Not only does it have a reputation as being quite bad, it has the Uwe Boll to back that up. Now I'm not saying that every Boll film is complete trash, but when the man adapts a video game, all bets are off. After making the masterclass in how to make a bad game flick with House of the Dead, Boll returned to console for a pair of big screen translations in the form of Alone in the Dark and today's film, Bloodrayne. Now, while I spent some time with a gamepad in my hand, I never got into the Tomb Raider games or their knockoffs. So I never encountered the vampire hunter Rayne in her original pixelated form. This means I have only a basic Wikipedia based knowledge of her exploits. This is both a good and bad thing. I won't spend eons dissing the movie for not adhering to the source material, but if there was anything redeemable about the character, once Boll's movie is done with her, there's a good chance I'll miss it.

Model turned actress Kristanna Loken, best known as the T-X from Terminator 3, stars as Rayne, a dhampir, the spawn of a human mother and vampire father. In this case, the living dead-beat dad is chief vampire baddie Kagan, Ben Kingsley slumming it. As the film begins, Rayne is the captive of a carnival sideshow, being fed animal blood to show off her "tricks". When she gets a hold of  some human blood, she goes batty killing off the other performers before escaping into the woods. Hot on her trail are two bands of riders. Vladimir (Micheal Madsen), Sebatian (Matthew Davis), and Katrine (Michelle Rodriguez) are vampire hunters and leaders of Kagan's opposition the Brimstone Society. They're out to keep Rayne away from Kagan's forces, lead by the creatively head shaved Domostir (Will Sanderson), before the vampire-in-chief can  get his hands on a powerful talisman that Rayne possess.

Thankfully, Bloodrayne was not a waste of my time. Why you might ask? Here's why..

That's right Michelle Rodriguez in an adventurer outfit entirely unsuited for swordplay. If nothing else in this movie was worth my time watching, then at least I had her screen-time to give me solace. Some people don't like her, those people are wrong. So there. Anyhow, to my great surprise, I actually ended up finding a few other things to like, but don't worry, it's not all a lovefest. I've still got a number of things to hate on. Now I won't even get into Uwe Boll's direction of the film. If you've seen any of his other movies, then you know what that's like. There's a workmanlike diligence to entertainment, and Boll is more than willing to throw in splattery violence, nudity, and just enough of a nonsense plot to get the job done. Bloodrayne hits this standard stride.

The fate of the film kind of falls to the actors, and unfortunately, while there were a couple of inspired performances, many of the players seemed like they were waiting on the check to clear. Much of the film falls on the shoulders of Kristanna Loken, and there's a reason that the T-X didn't have a huge speaking role. Loken, while pretty enough to look at and matches up pretty well to her video game counterpart, just never rallys the viewer into caring about her. She does doff her clothes in a sex scene with Matthew Davis, and many will find this the film's highlight. So it should be noted that the scene is supposedly not simulated, but as the actors as shot from waist up, it would be hard to determine if the only penetration in Bloodrayne came from fangs.

David, sporting an impressive mullet, is so milquetoast that i never had much interest in him either. On the other hand, his partner, played by Micheal Madsen, might have been there for the money, but his lackadaisical performance leads to a few good moments as Madsen plays Vladimir like the most laid back vampire killer since Blade got hooked on Hydrocodone. Rodriguez, apart from filling out her outfit, turns in the films best performance, but I imight be biased. Bloodrayne also gets a shot in the arm from Meat Loaf as a lecherous vamp surrounded by real Romanian hookers, Kingsley bringing a grand presence as Kegan, Udo Keir in a brief appearance as a monk, and Billy Zane in one of the world's worst hairpieces.

So was Bloodrayne a good movie that will inspire me to check out the two sequels that followed (both starring Norwegian actress Natassia Malthe replacing Lokan)? As the kids say these days, hell to the no. While I found myself entertained by Bloodrayne and thankful that the film keeps a pacy delivery the sped the movie along, it didn't inspire confidence that further movies would do more than rehash or rip off successful franchises like Underworld. However, as far as video game movies go, it was far from the worst I've ever seen. Even under the gentle hand of Uwe Boll, Bloodrayne manages to be better than Super Mario Brothers, Tekken, the Tomb Raider films, and Doom combined together. For some reason, the same stories that work on consoles never seem to exactly work on the silver screen as if the experience wouldn't translate if the viewer didn't have a gamepad in their hand. Someday, there will be a video game film that does the same thing The Dark Knight did for comic books, prove that the source material can become a viable artistic vision across mediums. Until then, well, I surely won't say we've got Bloodrayne, but it's there if you want to watch it and stuff.

Bugg Rating

Bloodsport (1988): Put Up Yer Dux, Put Up Yer Dux

They say the body is a temple, and that may well be true. If it is, then my temple is a kind of run down, ramshackle type of affair that someone has converted into a funky eatery. Jean-Claude Van Damme's body on the other hand is a lavish, ornate place with all the bells and whistles, gold leaf, bas reliefs, and tapestries galore.  There's no greater example of Van Damme's temple in action than 1988's Bloodsport, the movie that established JCVD as a major action star and catapulted him into the vaulted category with Stallone, Arnold, and Segal. As Jean-Claude stretched, punched, and kicked his way to the top of an underground fighting tournament, the Muscles from Brussels is far from the vulnerable actor he portrayed in the self titled JCVD. This is the young Van Damme who would just as well punch you in the face as impress you with his painful looking splits. Paired with the "true life" story of Frank Dux (pronounced Dookes), Jean-Claude made one of his best action features ever, and a great addition to National Blood Donation Month.

Frank Dux (Van Damme) goes AWOL from the Army in order to travel to Japan to take part in the Kumite, an underground full contact fighting tournament. He travels there to honor his teacher, Senso Tanaka (Roy Chiao), who taught him the way of martial arts after the Senso's own son tragically died. Once in Japan, Frank finds himself to be one of the few Western fighters, and he soon makes friends with Ray (Donald Gibb), a rough and tumble redneck looking to start trouble at the Kumite. Ray taunts champion Cong Li (Bolo Yeung), a decision he would come to regret, and one that pits Frank and Cong Li on a collision course. As the tournament progresses, Frank continues to climb through the single elimination bouts while romancing a journalist and being pursued by American agents sent to bring him back to uncle Sam. Needless to say, he's a busy fellow, but he has time enough for a few montages, a chase sequence to one of the worst songs ever, and to bring his whole body and face into the performance.

This was not Jean-Claude's first film. He had appeared in a number of small parts, sometimes un-credited,  in movies like Breakin' and Missing in Action. Bloodsport is really the movie that made JCVD a household name, and it also should have brought his facial acting skills to the fore of every conversation. I don't know that I can even adequately explain how expressive Van Damme is with his face, and I'm not just talking about when he'd fighting. Surely then he makes tons of grimaces and Bruce Lee-eque poses, but what I'm talking about is in his downtime. Before he even starts a line, he contorts his face into the emotion he's about to deliver. This is very handy if you're watching the film with the sound off, and you might as well. Bloodsport is an action packed film that fun to watch, but if you signed on for plot advancement that doesn't involve someone getting smacked around, then you're going to run into some difficulty here. The lack of plot really doesn't hinder Bloodsport, but it is very interesting to see how bare bones the plot (and Jean-Claude's acting) was compared to later films in his oeuvre.

Bloodsport was the last film directed by Newt Arnold. He was primarily a second unit or assistant director for films like The Goonies, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, and Alien Nation, and he had not directed his own feature since 1971's Blood Thrist, a Manila based horror tale. I found the style of capturing the action filmed by Arnold and cinematographer David Worth (Never Too Young To Die) to be perfect for actually seeing the fights. One of my big criticisms of modern action films is that the violence is always films from so close up that it is impossible to tell what is going on. Arnold fills his movie with wife shots and well placed close-ups. Sure there were a number of occasions where the angles didn't do the choreography any favors, but the blows that look like they landed home convinced me well enough that I don't want to do any full contact fighting. It also made me long for the olden days of MMA before that became all about sweaty dudes laying on a mat. Back then you could see a Sumo go up against a Muey Thai fighter, and it was awesome. That's truly one of the best parts of Bloodsport. Who doesn't want to see the guy fighting like a monkey get bear hugged til he passes out? Who doesn't want to see a Kung Fu fighter brawl with a redneck? Commies, that's who.

Donald Gibb is perhaps known best to folks as Ogre from the Revenge of the Nerds films, but I really enjoyed seeing him take on a character with a bit more personality. Plus, in his first scene, he plays the old school Karate Champ game with Van Damme, and that is just cool. I wish I could be as enthusiastic about Leah Ayres as Frank's journalist gal pal. The love story is extremely wedged into the story, and Ms. Ayres makes no impression in her few scenes. Other than the fact that she's just about the only woman in the movie, I couldn't see a reason that Frank's character would go for her. I needed her to be a bit more Gracie Law (Kim Cattrall in Big Touble in Little China) and less of a wan love interest. The two other actors who really make an impression are Bolo Yeung and Ken Siu. Yeung looms large, literally, over the proceedings as Chong Li, and his presence gives the film some real teeth. Ken Siu has only a minor role as Victor Lin, but his giant glasses and Asian mullet are hard to forget. I should also mention that Forrest Whitaker also has a small role as one of the agents sent to get Frank Dux back. He's barely in the film, but anytime he was, I couldn't help but think about a throw-down between JCVD and Ghost Dog.

Bloodsport is a great example of where '80's action went right. It wasn't convoluted with jingoistic anthems like many of the Chuck Norris movies. It wasn't teeming with guns like Stallone's flicks. It didn't take a science fiction or supernatural bent like Arnold favored. It was a straight up flick about a martial arts tournament done right. It had that same headlong feeling that I get watching Enter the Dragon. From stem to stern, Bloodsport goes for the jugular, rips it out bare handed, lets it spray all over the room, and it dares you to not have a good time. While much of Van Damme's other movies are hit and miss, these early movies like Bloodsport and Kickboxer show a martial artist who is desperate to show the world what he can do. Now that often seems to mean the splits, but it also means some very real kicking ass.

Bugg Rating

Blood of Dracula's Castle (1969) It Tests Shale-B Positive

Ask any vampire (go ahead, find one, I'll wait), and they will tell you that there is no place they would rather have their castle located than in the middle of a Arizona desert with hardly a tree or bit of shade to be found. Okay, maybe they wouldn't, unless they were that glittering, gibbering fool Edward Cullen, but if you're Count Dracula in an Al Adamson film, there's no better digs to have. Al is a cult movie legend. From films like Satan's Sadists to Blazing Stewardesses and Black Samurai, he left an enduring mark on horror, trash, and sleaze cinema in his all too brief eighteen year career. Today's film was his third directorial effort, and much like H.G. Lewis did with A Taste of Blood, Adamson was looking for a way to bring one of horror's greatest figures into the 1960's. However, unlike Lewis, Al wasn't going to settle for a Dracula surrogate, he was going to go for the real deal. So along with a psycho killer and a lunatic (and I'm not talking about the director), Dracula moved into a sandy castle intent of sipping the Bloodiest of all Marys.

Glen Cannon (Gene O'Shayne) is a photographer for Universal Magazine. One day while snapping shots of his model girlfriend Liz (Jennifer Bishop), Glen receives a telegram telling him that he's inherited a castle in Arizona from his distant Uncle. The castle is currently occupied by Count and Countess Townsend (a.k.a The Draculas) (Alexander D'Arcy and Paula Raymond), their moon worshiping butler George (John Carradine), the Frankenstein monster's cousin Mango (Ray Young) and close friend Johnny (Robert Dix), a psycho who gets extremely nutty during a full moon. Glen and Liz travel to Arizona to take possession of the castle, but the Count and crew are not ready to vacate. After all, they have a full basement of nubile your lasses chained up in the basement to drain. Imprisoning the young couple, the blood drinkers prepare for a sacrifice to the Moon god Luna, and one way or another, they intend to keep their desert home.

One of the things that's nice about this film is that the title helps answer an age old question, how do you get blood from a stone? Apparently, from the stones that make up Dracula's Arizona castle (which was really a Castle shaped ranch in California). It also raises quite a few though. Like "What happened to Dracula's pointed teeth?", "How did the terror of Transylvania get to the sun-drenched climes of Arizona?", and  "John Carradine,  why?" Unfortunately, none of these other questions get answered. While Blood of Dracula's Castle is not one of Adamson's greater efforts, it is a highly entertaining film. Despite the fact that the transfer I watched (from Mill Creek's Undead: Vampire Collection) was scratched and flawed beyond belief, I was completely entertained by the silliness that unfolded for ninety minutes. I can't say that it was a well made film, but it was a film that seemed aware that it would be good for a laugh. That goes a long way in my book.

Topping my list of the film's enjoyable bit would have to be the performance of Alexander D'Arcy. The Egyptian born actor was nearing the end of his career which began in 1927 with a small role in The Garden of Allah. IMDB describes D'Arcy as playing "oily types", and that pretty much sums the Count. With a pencil thin mustache, slicked back hair, and a smile that would make Mitt Romney weep, D'Arcy oozes his way through the film as Townsend/Dracula, and I loved every moment. His companion, the Countess, was originally a role intended for Jayne Mansfield, but when the actress passed, it went to Paula Raymond. Paula has appeared in many Noir films such as City that Never Sleeps, but her acting career was derailed in 1962 when her nose was severed in a car accident. After extensive plastic surgery, she returned to acting, but if her appearance in Blood of Dracula's Castle is any indication, she never reclaimed her former beauty (she did have nice gams though).

John Carradine is a delight as George the butler. If there's something that just about any film could use, it's a Carradine. John gets deeply hammy waxing poetic about the moon god, and playing off hothead Robert Dix,  he gets a number of great moments. Dix was also an acting veteran having appeared in films such as Sam Fuller's Forty Guns and Forbidden Planet. The cast is brilliant until you arrive at the protagonists. Gene Otis Shayne, whose last credit was 'Dancer' on The Monkees, and Jennifer Bishop, one of the original Hee Haw Honeys, are easily the worst part of Blood of Dracula's Castle. They try hard to muster up some charisma, but are easily overshadowed by the veterans. If these two characters could have been more realized, the entire flick could have overcome some of the cinematic flaws with the complete, quirky spin on the monster team-ups like House of Frankenstein. 

Some people have said that Al Adamson is an acquired taste. I don't know who these folks are that need time to ease into something as awesome as Al. His films are the kind that make me long for a Drive-in Theater playing double features culled from his career. Blood of Dracula's Castle is far from a perfect film. The story wanders all over the map (and varies according to what cut you watch), the lead actors are lame to the point of tragedy, and the film making never rises above standard. However, there's a ton of heart in this film. There's a lot of fun to be had while watching it, and there is such a thing as that long cliched beast the "so bad it's good" film. For horror fans and cult cinema junkies, Blood of Dracula's Castle is an excellent way to spend ninety minutes. If you're one of the high minded film snobby types, then Adamson's movies were never for you in the first place. For the rest of us, there's dozens out there for our enjoyment, and Blood of Dracula's Castle is a great place to start, or continue, an Al Adamson movie addiction.

Bugg Rating

And if you want to take a hit off the Al, you can do it right here. That's right, the whole film is embedded below. So check it out and let me know what you think!

Lips of Blood (1975): The Blood Keeps on Rollin(g)

Over the course of a film career that spanned almost fifty years, French auteur Jean Rollin made no less than six films with the word 'Vampire' in the title. That's not even counting how many others, like today's film, concerned bloodsuckers. However this month is all about the life giving liquid, and Rollin only made one film with that substance in the title, 1975's Levres de sang a.k.a Lips of Blood. Surprisingly, while I know of Rollin by reputation, this is the first time I've seen one of his films. I'm not sure what I expected. I had heard that Rollin marries the words of the French New Wave, erotica, and horror in equal, though often baffling, proportions. I also knew that Lips of Blood was released stateside in a X Rated format under the title Suck Me, Vampire, which is certainly a direct title but doesn't lead one to wax poetic about the erotic. Thankfully, the version I watched was the French cut, and while it still carried plenty of full frontal female nudity, it also detailed a story about childhood innocence all wrapped up in a surrealist's vision of vampires.

While attending a party for a perfume company. Frederic (Jean-Loup Philippe) spots the new advertising poster for the fragrance. In it, a picture of a ruined castle makes him flash back to lost memories of his childhood. As a young boy, he got lost in the castle meeting up with a teenage girl who protected him through the night before sending him back to his mother. In his innocent 12 year old way, Frederic fell in love with the young girl who he never saw again. Now, twenty years later and spurred on by the appearance of the picture, Frederic desires to find the castle again. His mother denies they were ever there, and mysterious people begin to follow him trying to keep him away from the truth. Meanwhile, Frederic releases four nubile young vampires from their coffins and they act as his protectors. The young girl, Jennifer (Annie Belle) begins to appear to him in visions, and as he draws closer to finding her, he discovers that his own family has hidden a secret of vampirism in the past.

Delicately filmed, Lips of Blood definitely speaks to the French New Wave with interesting visuals and a surrealist quality layered into the impressionistic story. It also brought my mind back to the films of George Melies with a still, silent film quality. While on the surface Rollin has made a erotic vampire tale, the irony of that is that the film is more about the lost innocence of childhood. When Frederic was a child, he fell in love with a vampire, a young girl shunned from the community, without a second thought. As an adult, he longed to recapture the innocence of youth. Because of the family secret, his mother wishes to deny her son his childhood, but eventually he finds he way back to the innocence. The end of the film finds him literally stripped of the trappings of modern life, and his plans from there include a fantastic, imaginative future that seems to hard to believe, at least from the view of an adult. To a child, it would seem like a blissful utopia. Rollin once said, "My childhood was wonderful, and my reflections of it are very romantic, sweet and utterly transfigured. Like recalling one's first love, 20 years later." This leads me to believe that Lips of Blood is an extremely personal film with Rollin looking back with misty eyes on his youth.

Jean-Loup Philippe, who stars as Frederic, co-wrote Lips of Blood with Jean Rollin, and it would become Jean-Loup's first leading role and most recognizable part. The actor gives a stunning performance that sees him shed layers of emotion as his character's revelations erupt. Annie Belle, best known among horror fans as Lisa in House on the Edge of the Park, oozes a strange,androgynous sexuality that doesn't seem crude or salacious. Through she has only a small number of scenes, Natalie Perrey makes a large impression on the film as Frederic's mother. It's also interesting to look into her career. While she appeared in a large number of films as an actress, her largest amount of film work came as a script supervisor. Over the course of her career, she would also do editing, direct, work in the production department, write two films, and even work on costumes in one. It's fascinating to see someone whose life revolved around film and have such a wildly varied career.

While Lips of Blood was my first film by Jean Rollin, it certainly won't be the last. Like a more artistically minded version of Jess Franco, Rollin filled this film with erotic visions but without an indelicate overtone. Rollin's film also turns the vampire myth on its ear. While some characters have reason to fear the vampires, Frederic does not. He sees something innocent in his first love even if she is a bloodsucking ghoul. Lips of Blood was a beautiful looking film with big ideas being talked about, and it stays away from horror cliche while firmly pulling from the genre's core. That about wraps it up for today's entry in Blood Donation Month. I hope everyone is enjoying my exploration of these bloody films, and I'll see you back here in a day or two for another film about the Roy Hud (blame the cockney rhyming slang dictionary for that one).

Bugg Rating

A Taste of Blood (1967): Drinking Causes a Different Thirst

When it comes to films with the word 'Blood' in the title, you couldn't go wrong picking one from the catalog of Herschell Gordon Lewis, the one and true Godfather of Gore. After directing a number of nudist films in the early 60s, Lewis splattered his way onto the horror scene with the revolutionary film Blood Feast. The tale of a caterer cannibalizing teenage girls for an Egyptian feast was the bloodiest film to ever grace the silver screen, and, single-handedly, Lewis changed the the landscape of modern horror. He also made people think that when H.G. Lewis says blood, he means it. He once again went for the hemoglobin in 1965 with Color Me Blood Red, an entertaining film about an artist collecting human samples for his special red paint. His most massive undertaking in the bloody realm is 1967's A Taste of Blood. It's Lewis, as the modern pulp filmmaker, making his attempt at bringing the Dracula legend into the 60s.

Bill Rogers stars as Miami businessman John Stone. He receives a mysterious package declaring him the sole heir to a European fortune that includes Carfax Abby. To celebrate his new-found fortune, he toasts his ancestors with the two bottles of Brandy included with the declaration of his inheritance. Little does he know that the alcohol contains the essence of his real antecedent Dracula. By drinking the liquor, it mixed with John's blood and turned him into vampire, sleeping by day and shying from crosses. John feels compelled to avenge his progenitor, and he begins to track down and kill off the descendants of the group that killed Dracula. Meanwhile, Dr. Howard Helsing, a descendant of Van Helsing (Otto Schlessinger) is on John's trail, and he intends to put an end to Dracula's legacy once and for all. Along the way, there's plenty of stabbings, bloodletting, and a ripping good throat ripping that will please any classic gorehound.

It's been said that H.G. Lewis  considered A Taste of Blood his masterpiece, and it's easy to see why. Taking from the classic horror movies, Lewis moved the character of Dracula into the 20th century without bringing the  cape and bat trapping with him. However, what screenwriter Donald Stanford also didn't bring along for the ride is continuity from  either the Dracula film or novel. Take for example one of John Stone's victims, Sherri Morris. Supposedly the descendants of Quincy Morris, the Texan died at the end of the novel (and the few movie versions which include him) a single man. This is just one such example, but the film is chock full of mistakes for the Dracula nerd like myself to tear apart. Taken on its own value, A Taste of Blood is easily the most expansive movie that Lewis ever made, both in its running time, nearly two hours, and its scope. Lewis is perhaps the most tranformative figure in bringing horror out of the age of black & white and into the era where blood runs red, and this marriage of old and cutting edge points to how horror would progress, a genre always looking to push the barriers but aware of its past.

The acting in A Taste of Blood is exactly what fans of H.G. Lewis' films have come to expect. Generally, it's pretty bad. Bill Rogers, who had previously appeared in films such as Love Goddess of Blood Island and Shanty Tramp, sometimes has his character John Stone described as mild-mannered. However, even before Stone gets turned into Dracula's avenger, he seems totally smarmy and sleazy. With his patronizing tone toward his ditsy wife Helene (first time actress Elizabeth Wilkinson) and overtones toward his assistant Vivian (Gail Janis), Stone seemed to be characterized as an opportunistic businessman with scant scruples. So it seems natural he wouldn't question his surprise inheritance or the instruction to drink the bottles of brandy. William Kerwin, a Lewis regular from Two Thousand Maniacs and Blood Feast, appears here as Stone's suspicious friend, and Lewis also appears himself as a British sailor. The majority of the film belongs to Rogers alone, and while I felt like his performance was solid, the entire picture could have been elevated by some measure of pathos coming from John Stone. He doesn't battle his vampirism or seem regretful of the murders he's caused. I suppose he is supposed to be overwhelmed with his ancestor's spirit, but it allows the film to march forward without conflict until Howard Helsing shows up in the films last act.

While A Taste of Blood succeeds in bringing an original idea to modern Dracula lore, but the execution could have used a little help. If the film had been tightened up by 15 or 20 minutes, the script gone over to ensure that everything made sense, and some more emotion put into the John Stone character, A Taste of Blood could have been a truly great example of how to modernize the vampire myth. As it stands, like 1958's The Return of Dracula and Hammer film's misguided Dracula 1972 A.D., A Taste of Blood missed the mark and left ol' Drac steel feeling peckish. While Lewis might have felt this was his masterwork, an honor I would bestow on Two Thousand Maniacs or Blood Feast, it lacked a cohesive enough story to impress. What it did have was plenty of trademark H.G. Lewis gore. The price of admission is worth it to marvel in the prehistoric practical effects, and if you've never seen an H.G. Lewis film, this would be a fine place to start. It might not deliver on all fronts, but it definitely gives you enough of a taste to whet your appetite for more of the Godfather of Gore.

Bugg Rating 

Blood Creek (2009) Blood Donation Month Begins with Schumacher's Blood Magic Nazi (Nipples Not Included)

Hello folks, and welcome to the first review of 2012. As you may have noticed from the Lair's new duds, I'm celebrating National Blood Donation Month this January. Every movie I talk about this month will either have 'Blood' (or a derivation thereof) in the title or have some other equally sanguine connection, but I'm also going to put my money where my mouth is. Sometime this month I'll be going to donate blood, something I've never done before. The Red Cross appointed January National Blood Donation Month in 1970, and I think it's a great way to start the year by giving a bit of yourself after the gluttony of the holiday season. So along with enjoying a month-long tribute to the ooey-gooey red stuff, I hope that some of you consider heading down to the blood bank and parting with a pint. Now enough of this seriousness. We have a Joel Schumacher movie to talk about today.

Ol' Joel has gotten a pretty bad rep these days, and if I put nipples on Batman, I'd expect to have one myself. It's easy to forget that Schumacher also directed The Lost Boys, Flatliners, and, my personal favorite, Falling Down without an accessory nipple to be found. Even so, I've put off seeing his 2009 return to horror, Blood Creek. However, I was pleasantly surprised by Schumacher's most straight forward foray into the horror genre. Blood Creek stars future Man of Steel Superman Henry Cavill as every-man paramedic Evan Marshall. Evan is haunted by the disappearance of his brother Victor (Prison Break's Dominic Purcell) during a West Virginia camping trip they shared. When Victor unexpectedly returns one night, Evan follows him without question back into the countryside on a quest for revenge. Victor's captors turn out to be prisoners of a greater evil, Richard Wirth (Micheal Fassbender), a blood magic practicing Nazi who has harassed the power of a Nordic rune buried under a barn. With the ability to raise the dead to do his bidding and a desire to develop a third eye during the coming lunar eclipse, Wirth stalks the brothers looking for a final blood sacrifice.

If the plot of Blood Creek sounds convoluted and loaded with mythos, it is to an extent, but, from the first few minutes of the film which introduce how Wirth came to the farm family, the film kicks off and never lets up. While there are several expository scenes to stitch together the suspense and horror sequences, Schumacher keeps the film's pace at a breakneck speed. Even so, the characters still feel fully rounded. Apart from the one or two most minor characters, it seems that the script and actors pulled the material far above the stock slasher material it could have become. The only hindrance to the film's success is some dodgy CGI special effects. Thankfully the worst of these moments doesn't come until the very end of the film. While it left me with a sort of sour taste in my mouth, had it been placed earlier, I surely would have been pulled right out of the film. The greatest benefit that the film has is the base script. While I understand that Schumacher made a number of changes to the screenplay, then called Town Creek by David Kajganich, they seem to have worked out making Blood Creek one of the most successful, original modern slasher films.

The linchpin that the film hangs on is the two main performances. Henry Cavill is an actor I've enjoyed ever since his turn on Showtime's The Tudors. Before I watched Blood Creek, I was a bit hesitant about his casting as Superman in Zack Snyder's Man of Steel. Having seen him in a more action oriented role that also delved into the pathos of his character, I'm really ready to see what he does as the last son of Krypton. Cavill infuses his character in Blood Creek with a real presence played out through subtle actions and a real sense of an internal life. There is an innocence to his character, and it makes for a perfect counterpoint to Fassbender's Nazi Wirth. Fassbender, known for his roles in 300 and X-Men: First Class, is more darkly evil here than I've seen him play before. While he's hidden beneath layers of makeup (and m.i.a. from the proceedings until halfway through the film after the short prologue), he makes a hell of an impression once he gets going. Fassbender makes such a thing as a warlock, Third Reich loving, blood drinking, zombie controlling, serial killer seem utterly believable. These two performances are what really make Blood Creek rise above the level of middling modern horror.

Plus the film is bloody. While there's a bit of CGI grue that brings down the average, there was plenty enough of the sanguine vita being spilled to please my inner gorehound. While there are some rough spots, Blood Creek is a film from a Hollywood director who clearly knows what he's doing, and he had enough sense to leave the nipples out of it. I hope you enjoyed this first post in National Blood Donation Month, and I have lots of interesting titles in store all month long. It should be a bloody good time for all, and hopefully I won't turn into Gene Shalit due to all the half ass wordplay. Well if that happens, you're sure to see my giant mustache here first. So join me back here all January and see what happens.

Bugg Rating