Article by Joseph A. Ziemba

Take a load off, friend -- you’ve come to the right place. I know exactly how you feel. Yep, Halloween is my favorite holiday too. But alas, things are different now, aren’t they?

As adults, October relegates us monster freaks to the lowest of Halloween shame: sniffs to the passing candy aisle and dagger stares at the terribly cheap latex masks. What else can we do? Strictly forbidden to don a two dollar Frankenstein mask and scowl the streets for sweets come all hallow’s eve, we’ve got to take what we can get. If that happens to be daydreams and a bag of mini-Snickers bars, so be it. There’s always the memories. But wait. Hand over those plastic gore fangs! Maybe there is a remedy for the Halloween void.

Anybody who’s anybody knows that creepy films are best served on a chilled night during the month of October. That’s a given. This year, I was up for something different, a challenge if you will -- a marathon. Yeah, that’s it. Instead of sulking around and wishing I was on the receiving end of those Smarties, what if I could pack my entire Halloween weekend with a marathon of horror films? Better yet, what if I could fill up the time with random films that I had never seen, like a luck of the draw shoot-out?! But where could I find a bunch of honest-to-goodness junk, ranging from black and white spookers to 80s slasher trash? I certainly didn’t own enough unseen films to make the rounds.

That’s when it hit me. Rhino’s Horrible Horrors collections. Two volumes (eight movies each, spread out over two double sided discs) of 60s-80s z-rate gunk from the vaults of Crown International Pictures, a lower-rung distributor of cheap drive-in fare back in the day. That’s right, no public domain redundancy here! Just budget minded collections of genuine bad film mirth that you won’t find anywhere else -- causing me to once again marvel at the wonders of DVD. How long would it have taken me to track down all of these films? Although a few have been previously issued as stand alone Rhino discs, the vast majority have been lost to decaying mom and pop video stores the world over. Collections like this are smart and effective, utilizing one of DVD’s greatest aspects: lots of entertainment on the cheap. What’s not to like?

So my problem was solved: sixteen drive-in horror films (not one of which I’d ever seen) in a tight, no-nonsense package and spread out over the last weekend of October. It was time to pull out that cheap old Jack O’ Lantern and grab a handful, as my Halloween marathon was about to begin.

VOLUME ONE

THE HEARSE (1980)
Directed By George Bowers

Poor old Jane. Not only did her mother just pass on, but she’s also suffering from some acute marriage crumble and other “issues.” What’s a city girl to do? Naturally, take an extended break in the country, thanks to an inherited spook-mansion from sinister Aunt Martha. Martha’s dead, but her house sure isn’t. As Jane tries to figure out why everyone in town lays the snot nose on thick, the abode plays tricks and a little love enters the picture. But what’s with the black hearse trying to run Lady J off the road all the time? And what demonious secrets does Aunt Martha’s diary hold?! Is creepy Tom really who he says he is? If you can withstand one more character’s hilarious reaction to the “old Martin place” you just might find out.

The Hearse is a somewhat intriguing haunted house picture that suffers from an awful ending. It moves slow, features a few suspenseful moments, but ends up dragging at 99 minutes. The TV movie feel is heavy, making it a prime target for a supper-time watch. The strong female lead and creepy hearse driver were obvious strong suits, but I can’t say I’d watch this one again. The widescreen print was exceedingly clear and some heavy ghosting was evident. The mono sound was about as good as you need it to be.

PRIME EVIL (1988)
Directed By Roberta Findlay

What th-?! Did I start this one up halfway through on accident? Nope, it’s just a stunning example of complete bad film nonsense, helmed by notorious sexploitationeer Roberta Findlay. In what seems to be two films splotched together, our plot finds a group of undercover satanists kidnapping a few girls and using them for some kind of...uh, satanic ceremony. Before that, we’re introduced to this social-worker-with-a-sketchy-past backstory. Inbetween, things spice up with a few dopey murders, tons of incoherent plot developments, and a couple of kick ass work-out scenes. The film started making sense (I guess) about thirty minutes in, but by that time, it was far, far too late.

You’ve got one reason to watch this one: hilarity. Atrocious acting, basketball court screeches standing in for swear words, and an unbelievable excuse for Satan (shades of Fraggle Rock). Since all of the blood and nudity seems to be cut away (not to mention the gym shoe dubbing), I’m guessing this is a TV print. The full frame presentation looks just fine -- a bit on the grainy side, but relatively free of blemishes. Some very slight ghosting was also present. The mono sound was a little hard to decipher at times. No matter.

TERROR (1978)
Directed by Norman J. Warren

The screaming, the breaking glass, the sleazy gore...the sleep. A classic curse gets set: while being lit up at the stake, a grey-faced witch damns an entire family, including future generations. A movie director and his cousin happen to be the latest in line. Sure enough, murder and haunted happenings follow wherever they go, leading to drawn out scenes of people running and random glass breakage. Treats include a couple of movie-within-movies, abundant gore, and a very effective (death by film!) final twenty minutes. Unfortunately, I was completely lost after the first twenty minutes.

Terror finds itself in your living room courtesy Norman J. Warren, a UK director mostly known for Bloody New Year and Inseminoid. Yeah, this film was weird at times (the peculiar full frontal strip tease) and even stylishly atmospheric, but the pace was very uneven and suffered from long bouts of useless happenings. Strictly middle-of-the-road, but worth a laid back watch sometime. The full frame print was similar to Prime Evil, just with a little more ghosting and slightly less clarity. Sound? Mono, my friend. Dialogue was hard to make out during certain bursts of music.

LURKERS (1988)
Directed By Roberta Findlay

Roberta Findlay strikes again, with her last film to date. What do you get when you combine another satanic premise with the leading lady from Prime Evil? Round two of nonsensical weirdness, only not as funny. After a truly frightening five minute prologue, we meet Cathy, our resident nutzo. Badly abused as a child and prone to seeing Lurkers (ghosts who look like wrinkled old men), Cathy has issues. Good thing she’s got Bob, fiancé and all around Ben Stiller clone, to smooth things over. Bob seems to be the perfect guy for Cath and her gigantic shoulder pads, understanding her problems when others don’t. As Cathy gets more and more out of control, Bob decides to bring her to a party. Wouldn’t you know it? The party takes place at Cathy’s childhood home -- but is it all a coincidence? And is Bob really who he says he is? Ouch!

Lurkers is completely nuts. Focusing on some crazy child abuse scenes (lookout for that hot iron!), bizarre sexual imagery, awkward edits, and lots of padding, the film piles on the strangeness but ends up going nowhere. Some light gore and nudity pops up for no reason at all and there’s a kickin’ score comprised of the fakest of keyboard string settings. Really pretty awful, aside from the first ten minutes or so, but the oddness kept me watching. The full frame print was grainy, but clear, featuring little or no imperfections. The mono sound had some muffled dialogue and inconsistencies in overall level.

FLESHBURN (1984)
Directed by George Gage

Please understand! This is not a horror film. It’s more like a macho action-thriller, complete with a dopey “survival of the fittest” plotline. The basic set-up goes a little something like this: After breaking out of a mental institution, our bad guy ‘Nam vet, Calvin Duggai, kidnaps the four people responsible for putting him there. Kidnapees in tow, Calvin takes a drive out to the desert, drops his peeps off, and leaves them to survive on their own. At this point, I said to myself, “It would be terrible if the rest of the movie was about these four people trying to escape from the desert.” Guess what happens for the next hour? Don’t even get me started on the “this seems like a good place to stop” ending.

Aside from a brief reference to ancient witchcraft, I can’t understand why this film would be included on a collection called Horrible Horrors. In fact, if I knew what it was about beforehand, I probably would’ve avoided this picture like the plague. As it stands, the film was mostly dull, predictable, and over-acted...like a stinker TV movie with some swears thrown in. The print was cropped and full frame, looking like a clean VHS picture. Some scratching and emulsion lines were evident and the mono sound was very low volume-wise.

SATAN’S SLAVE (1976)
Directed by Norman J. Warren

Talk a walk down the nasty side of the street. Gross gore, graphic deviant sex, lots of full female nudity, and people talking...and talking...for 90 minutes. That about sums up the mean-spirited Satan’s Slave. Centering around a young girl’s misadventures at her mysterious (satanic) uncle’s estate, this talky UK production gets real antithetical on you. Extreme boredom or frenzied violence? Decent plot turns or awful pacing? Are these people really satan’s slaves or was it all a dream? No good whatsoever. Michael Gough collects a paycheck and I’m depressed. Move over, N.J. Warren, where’s Roberta Findlay when you need her?

Fitting the quality of the film, the full frame “continental” print (more explicit and complete than other versions) appears cropped, dark, and slightly stretched. Picture quality is very average, on par with an old VHS tape. Probably the weakest of the bunch so far. The mono sound was slightly muffled, no surprise. Please move on. Quickly!

TWISTED BRAIN (aka HORROR HIGH) (1974)
Directed By Larry N. Stouffer

Still looking for a reason to pick up this collection? You’ve found it. Vernon Potts, a Jason Schwartzman/Brian Wilson hybrid, is a high school nerd that has lots of problems. His mum is dead, his dad calls him a “damn sissy,” his teachers treat him like dirt, and all the jocks hate him. Very cruel. In fact, Vernon’s only happiness comes in the form of “Mr. Mumps,” a literal guinea pig that helps him try out chemical potions. After one too many run-ins with the janitor’s cat, Vernon finds out what the formula REALLY does to Mr. Mumps: it’s Mr.Mumps-Hyde, the monstrous guinea pig. In a shocking confrontation, the incredibly mean janitor forces big V to drink the potion, turning our hero into a revenge-starved, gimp-legged monstrosity! Violent deaths ensue and all of the a-holes get what’s comin’ to ‘em. But has Vernon chugged off more than he can swallow? Can semi-girlfriend Leslie act her way out of an empty coffee can? You must find out.

This is the kind of surprise I was waiting for. Twisted Brian is a gritty, cheap gem that will satisfy any weirdo film fanatic. The above synopsis may sound like dynamite, but check out these additional specs: a score comprised of a lone drum set, synth spurts, and inappropriate psych-funk jamz; an inexplicable plot digression (then abandonment!) dedicated to Vernon’s dad, overly odd camera placements, fake slo-mo locker room harassment, eerie abandoned school halls, and loads of bad acting chops. Things may drag as we approach the end of the 91 minute run time, but really, let’s not be picky. The full frame print was soft, scratchy, and quite dirty. VHS level, but never dipping into what I’ve come to expect as “budget” DVD territory. The mono sound was hissy and pretty muffled overall. Rhino, where’s the special edition DVD? Rumor has it that a director’s cut does indeed exist...

POINT OF TERROR (1971)
Directed By Alex Nicol

If only every movie could open with a poor man’s Englebert Humperdink night club singer; red-tassled and aimin’ to please. While not a horror film per se, Point Of Terror certainly delivers 87 minutes worth of entertainment, like any good trashy movie should. Tony Trelos (Peter Carpenter) is a nightclub singer at dive-bar called the Lobster House. He’ll do anything to make it big. When the wife of an invalid music biz mogul, Andrea (Dyanne Thorne, star of the “Ilsa” films), starts making the moves, Tony has no choice but to dump everything and play with fire. It all leads to unlikeable two-timers, depressing situations, murder, fantastical bad songs, a couple of drawn out sex scenes, and...hey, what was that scary dream all about that Tony had in the beginning of the movie? Add a bigtime downbeat ending to the mix (or is that disappointing?) and you’ll find out that it’s a cold world, baby!

One thing’s for sure: Point Of Terror was never boring. Well, aside from the horseback riding padding scene...but whatever, F.F. and you’ll be fine. It benefits from a few seconds of good acting, several hundred instances of fab hammy acting, total hilarity, and that trademarked late 60s exotica swirl: bright colors, sunny locales, breezy organs, and lots of day-for-night shooting. Kind of like a swinging sexploitation time waster, but never too explicit. It was fun. The full frame print looks really nice; very crisp and only slightly blemished at times. Towards the end of the film, colors seemed to fade to different tints for brief moments. Be thankful that the mono sound is loud and clear: Tony’s songs are totally horrible.

VOLUME TWO

DON’T ANSWER THE PHONE! (1980)
Directed by Robert Hammer

’s absolutely nothing to like about this greasy film. No lie. A psychotic jesus freak ‘Nam vet with father issues drives around the seediest of Los Angeles locales, searching for women to rape, torture, and kill. Sometimes he cries like a baby and sometimes he lifts weights and grunts. He calls into a local radio therapy program, starting up a boring relationship with the female host that creates zero suspense. This alerts the comic-relief cops, who leap into action and offer up many incidental scenes of rotten, inappropriate humor (witness the psychic Scarface clone for a great example). The cops treat every female character like morons that only exist for sex. The less said, the better.

Nasty, overly misogynistic, and poorly executed. Never fun. That about sums it up. This is obviously a cut print, as quick jumps appear whenever nudity rears its head. The full frame print looks decent -- watchable, dark, clear, but nothing too exciting. Oddly, at 81 minutes, the print turns to widescreen for the remainder of the runtime. No complaints on the mono sound. Avoid if at all possible!

TERRIFIED (1962)
Directed By Lew Landers

Who would’ve thought to find an effective, unknown gem within the vaults of Crown International? Seemingly filmed in a different dimension, Terrified concerns a ghost town, a dinner-jacketed, black-hooded killer, and a thoroughly confounding series of events. After we witness a man buried alive in cement, our story shifts to a little diner out in the middle of nowhere. Things center in on Marge and her love triangle with Dave and Ken. Ken’s working on a midterm paper revolving around terror and its effects on the human body. For some reason, possibly in search of somebody named “Crazy Bill,” the three make their way out to a deserted ghost town, complete with excellent low budget cemetery. Soon enough, the old stalk and spook comes into effect, as ye old black hood continuously traps and releases Ken while Dave and Marge search for the police. Confused yet?

Don’t worry about it. With its odd “in-joke” dialogue bits, random psychological plot bursts, and isolated black & white photography, Terrified stands as a peculiar oddity, just waiting to be enjoyed. In fact, the confusing elements of the film do much to reinforce its dreamlike qualities. Kind of like Manos, Hands Of Fate on a dinner date with Night Of The Ghouls, just with more style and technique. Some might find bits of the picture boring, but I soaked it all up. Everything kind of comes together in the end, at least plot-wise, and I’m left craving another viewing. Probably the most pleasant discovery of the two collections so far. The print was full frame, a little heavy on scratches, and filled with high contrast blacks and whites. The mono sound was a little scratchy as well, but never distracting.

BLOOD OF DRACULA’S CASTLE (1969)
Directed By Al Adamson

Hey, it’s Al Adamson’s fourth film! Grab a pillow. Heh heh, just kidding. Or am I? True, I fell asleep three times while strolling through Dracula’s very non-scary desert castle, but still -- somehow, Blood Of Dracula’s Castle serves up a good dose of magical nostalgic claptrap. It’s got the simplistic creeps of a teenager’s super-8 film and personifies that detached “late Saturday night” feel. After a hunchback monster kidnaps a girl, we meet Glen Cannon, ace photo-bug, and his fiancee Liz. Glen has inherited an old castle from his deceased uncle and has to go relieve the current residents of the ol’ dump. But wouldn’t you know it? Dracula and his wife (“The Townsends”) don’t want to leave the place -- they’ve got a nice set-up going, with butler John Carradine (three cheers!) draining chained nubile femmes of their “pure” blood types. It’s swingers vs. dinner-theater-sophisticate-monsters in an all out battle for castle control! Only things don’t move so fast.

Coming across as somewhat coherent for an A.A. film, Blood still suffers from long bouts of dialogue-deficient padding, a staple of Al’s technique. However, the sets look ultra-cheap and the eccentric charms don’t stop. I thoroughly enjoyed the bad sound effects, the werewolf tease that never happens, and the dungeon’s theme park feel. The print is full frame, slightly dark, and looks fantastic. Strong colors, deep blacks, and great 60s clarity. The sound was mono. Are you surprised?

NIGHTMARE IN WAX (1969)
Directed by Bud Townsend

I think we’re on a roll here. Ever since a disfiguring double cross from a no-good movie mogul, Vincent (scene-chewing legend Cameron Mitchell) has taken up work in the Movieland Wax Museum. See, he used to be the best make-up guy in the biz, until that jealous letch threw a flaming cocktail into his face. Out the window went the career and the girl. In place, we get a hilarious “scar” (chewed up Wrigley’s gum or honey mustard sauce?), a pirate patch, and a never-ending supply of cigarettes. Vincent spends his time collecting key Hollywood players, injecting them with his zombie-fied formula, and pretending they’re wax figures in the museum. Before the cops catch wind, we get to watch a bad sunshine pop band called The T-Bones and become involved with the soap operatic proceedings. And then the ending almost ruined everything.

I need to go no further than saying that Nightmare In Wax was absolute top notch junk. Good ol’ Cam gets crazier and crazier, some of the shots try hard to be artsy and fail, and odd moments crop up frequently. Never gory or sleazy, but somehow...dark and dirty. Held my interest from minute one to minute ninety-six and that’s saying a lot. The print: once again full frame, once again looking very nice. Blemishes are minimal and the picture is crisp. At times, things looked a bit over-exposed. The sound was on the poor side, with levels that sounded “in the red” and many instances of very muffled dialogue.

THE CRATER LAKE MONSTER (1977)
Directed by William Stromberg

Whoa, Nessie; something smells a little stale in your lake. Some ancient egyptian cave drawings are discovered in a mine. They depict stick figures battling a sea monster. A meteor crashes into a lake (close-up = fish tank) in Crater Lake, a mountainous town made up of people with southern accents and regular old accents. A monster emerges from the meteor and wreaks bloody death onto Crater Lake! The monster leaps into action via very bad stop motion and terrible full-size foam close-ups. It’s up to a lone sheriff, two bumpkin entrepreneurs, and a crack team of scientists to stop this poor man’s Nessie. Most awkward ending ever filmed? What a letdown.

Truly awful overall, The Crater Lake Monster, like Prime Evil from volume one, is good only for the laughs. Even then, things get old real quick. What in the world did that violent liquor store hold-up have to do with anything? Why did the guy with the worst fake british accent ever set fire to his boat? Why is there an over abundance of bad Disney-esque music cues whenever the boat salesmen appear? Ah, what’s the use anyway. The full frame print was excellent and crisp, but featured from some slight ghosting. The sound level was a little low, but fine.

STANLEY (1972)
Directed by William Grefe

I don’t want to transfer the boredom into this review, so here goes...nice and easy. Embittered ‘Nam vet Tim, a Seminole indian, is somehow able to control his pet rattlesnakes, ordering them to kill for revenge against the racist bums that murdered his father. Maybe it’s because he calls them “sweethearts” and builds little frilly beds for them?

William Grefe, helmer of regional classics (or junk, depending on who you ask) Sting Of Death and Death Curse Of Tartu, serves up a pretty tedious Willard rip-off for the cold-blooded set. The spark is there; it’s just that the film is presented so indifferently. With nothing too exciting in terms of suspense or technique, we’re left with a boring, predictable series of events that just kind of exists. Despite the appearance of several slimy snakes and a nasty strip-act involving beheaded snakes, even! No laughs, no nothing. I wanted it to be over after the first twenty minutes. Fittingly, Stanley features the worst full frame transfer of either set, dipping into what you might expect from a cheap-o budget release. Jump cuts, fuzzy picture quality, ghosting...it’s all there. Seems to be pretty cut up as well. I’m sure you can guess how the audio sounded.

BLOOD MANIA (1970)
Directed by Robert Vincent O’Neill

Word to the wise for young doctors everywhere: don’t perform illegal abortions. It’ll just getcha all tangled up. After one of the finest initial three minutes appearing on these two collections, we meet Craig Cooper (Peter Carpenter, from Point of Terror), resident stud physician. Craig is overlooking the ill health of an old friend, who happens to be bedridden for an undisclosed reason. Said friend’s daughter, Victoria, is a sex-fiend and disguises every moment as another attempt to seduce Mr. Cooper. She’d be outta luck if Craig wasn’t facing a shady past, riddled with blackmail and illegal doings. Wait a minute; further plot summarization is unnecessary. Just take Point Of Terror from volume one, swap the lounge singer for a doctor, and the template falls into place...just add a ton of nudity, some artsier shots, and a couple of unexplained tangents (lesbians? incest?). And a better ending.

Blood Mania (Boob Mania?), despite its soap operatic stylings, wasn’t all that bad...there’s just not too much blood. At all. It’s an obvious, hilarious ego-booster for Pete Carpenter, who also wrote the script, as he pretty much sleeps with every hourglass curved woman who appears in the picture. The acting is completely terrible, but the weird stylings are high and sleazy. Don’t forget about the fantastic painting that makes a cameo at the end. Besides, how can you dismiss a film that lists “Electronic Sound: Wurlitzer” in its opening credits? You can’t! The print quality was completely identical to Point Of Terror, only with a slight video blip at 49 minutes. Overall, nice stuff. For more Robert O’Neill, check out Something Weird’s The Psycho Lover DVD...

THE DEVIL’S HAND (1962)
Directed by William J. Hole, Jr.

So how’s your tolerance for lame one-liners? In this extended third-rate Twilight Zone rip, smooth talking, joke shooting Rick Turner, secure with his fiancé and current unemployment, suffers from recurring nightmares of a woman dancing in the clouds. Yeeoutch! Through a brief bit of narration, Rick explains how he’s drawn to a curio shop that specializes in very scary dolls. Things get odd, as Rick falls for a stacked blonde, Bianca, who just so happens to be the woman of his dreams. Hooah! But how was he drawn towards her? And what about his old girlfriend, stuck in the hospital with Voodoo doll ailment? Ah, it’s all due to that devil-worshipping cult, headed by ol’ Commissioner Gordon himself, Neil Hagerty! Soon after, Rick has lots of luck with stocks, drinks several hundred cocktails, and turns into a jackass. Heeyoo! People sit around and talk quite a bit. It seems to me that the entire film could have been cut to a lean 30 minutes instead of 71. But what do I know?

If nothing else, at least they gave it a real good try. The film’s got class and the black & white photography looks great, but mostly there’s nothing to do. The actors were grating and the script lacked a real punch, so we’re left with a pretty uninteresting watch, save for the opening surf instro and first 15 minutes or so. On the plus side, the full frame print was top notch, with deep blacks and nary a blemish in sight. Very crisp and clear, along with the mono sound.

So there you have it. Once again, that fateful night has come and gone. You don’t even need to ask if I had fun. Despite the occasional stinker, these potluck collections served their purpose well and lit up my October skies with the obscure junky fix that I’d been searching for. Volume Two is clearly the collection to own, but depending on how your tastes run, anything goes. That’s the beauty of this type of release. Here’s hoping companies take the initiative and flood the future market with more stacked collections on the cheap. So far, next Halloween is wide open.