Luther the Berserk has EVIL Plans in the Bayou! “The Naked Witch” reviewed! (VCI / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on June 20, 2025

A string of horrific murders of beautiful women becomes the study of a six-person team of paranormal researchers who head down to the Louisiana swamplands surrounded by notorious superstition and urban legend for once being the home of witchcraft. One of the researches, Tasia, is a sensitive, a highly psychic receptive woman and student of team leader, Dr. Hayes, to sense the area’s extrasensory waves thought to be behind the murders, especially the ones of a satanic ritualized nature. On the isolated island, encircled by swamp and gators, a powerful Satan acolyte known as Luther the Berserk seeks to spellbound Tasia to complete his coven of witches and evokes the help of Jessie, a haggard crone with the ability of mind control over those with sensitive abilities. One-by-one, the researchers are being picked off for the blood ritual and it’s up to the survivors to stop Luther before it’s too late.

A bold psychotronic of the 1960s, “The Naked Witch” has a tingly macabre aura about it that’s not swinging, swanky, nor is it groovy. Also known primarily as “The Witchmaker,” there’s a thick circumference of dread and darkness surrounding the William O. Brown written-and-directed picture. Brown’s sophomore film behind the 1965 “One Way Whaine” comedy about Hawaiian babes and bank robbers is a stark 180 degrees four years later that showcased the filmmaker’s range from laughs to terror on the cusp of the early days of the Satanic scare. “The Naked Witch” has also been reissued as “Witchkill,” The Witchmaster,” and “The Legend of Witch Hollow” and while Brown’s film goes by many monikers, one thing is for certain is the film was shot partially on location in the mucky swamps of Louisiana during exterior locations whie the remaining interiors were in a Los Angeles studio. The U.S.A. made film was produced by Brown with L.Q. Jones serving as executive producer and released independently under LQ/JAF Productions.

Personally, horror films like “The Naked Witch” that were produced through the 1950s and into the 1960s always share mixed feeling that can only be described as from “the content is revolutionary for Americana horror post-World War II cinema” to “the stiff, exposition acting just doesn’t work with the grim nature of the ahead of its time story,” and as Marty McFly once said back in 1955, “I guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet.” There’s nothing inherently bad about “The Night Witch’s” acting other than the lack of emotional weight from the troupe needed to lift up and be on the same level as the story that includes hanging half-naked women upside, slitting their throats, and drinking their blood out of chalices in a coven on satanic confluence. “Revenge is my Destiny’s” John Lodge is the exception that goes against the stagey type of stilted acting grain as lead satanist apostle Luther the Berserk, flashing devil hand gestures and acting like a wild man in his ravaging role that’s ambitiously true to character and subtly perverse in blood and in lust. The same passion portrayal of character is not extended the principal leads of “Green Acres’” Alvy Moore and “Deep Space’s” Anthony Eisley playing a pair of opposing scientists – Moore as the more supernaturally open-minded Dr. Ralph Hayes and Eisley has the rigid in rationality Dr. Victor Gordon. Their conflict of beliefs creates another subplot satellite that abides by superstition and lore as well as the division it produces, a decent representation of the overall contrarianism inside people as a group, then you have Tasia, a medium struggling with her powers being pulled in two different directions. The European heritage and Canadian born blonde knockout Thordis Brandt steps out of the saucy side role and into one of her more prominent performances as the Sensitive who is manipulated by Luther’s unholy powers over the coven. The coven and researcher cast rounds out with Shelby Grant, Tony Benson, Robyn Millan, Burt Mustin, Warrene Ott, Helene Winston, Carolyn Rhodimer, Larry Vincent, Patricia Wymer, Del Kaye, Diane Webber, Valya Garanda, Gwen Lipscomb, Nancy Crawford, and Sue Bernard.

“The Naked Witch” is not as graphic as one would assume with such a scandalous, provocative title. Again, you must remember, the film is originally titled “The Witchmaker.” Yet, for a 1960’s horror, William O. Brown’s satanic sorcery picture is too advanced for the era’s mostly puritanical audience. I’d even go as far as saying “The Naked Witch” borders the line between the foggy and gloomy atmospherics and set productions of Gothic Hammer and the ever-close-to-the-edge designed no nudity or graphic death coverups of an early Russ Meyer production sans the zany cartoon sounds and the rapid-fire editing. An abundant of dread hangs in the air of starched collars and secretary skirts that conjures more than just the Devil’s presence in the bayou but a heavy dealt hand of a no-win situation full of desperation and death. The story itself evolves from the brutal, ritualistic killings of strung up and stripped naked young, beautiful women to a more focused objective of converting Sensitive Tasia into a full-fledged witch that completes Luther’s coven and resurrects his master for a diabolical Hell on Earth. The broader strokes of “The Naked Witch’s” narrative places the fate in the hands of a group of students and naïve ignoramuses playing catchup to what’s really happening under their noses. Of course, alarm bells never go off and panic never really sets in for the group of survivors after each death in what is more like an aw-shucks and move on reaction. Granted the team is stuck on the island for a few days with no way to call for help but that doesn’t mean being not proactive or being crippled by fear doesn’t have a place amongst them and in the story, especially missing opportunities within the researchers to turn on each other by way of Luther’s manipulating witch, Jesse, who herself has her own drastic motivation with a blood ritual that make her young again.

“The Naked Witch” is fairly cladded with atmosphere and ghoulish intentions instead of the mentioned nudity but the new VCI 2-Disc Format Blu-ray and DVD release provides the bare essentials with a restored 35mm archival print into 4K-UHD scan. Presented in a widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio, the grading is rich and overall image and details look pleasing with depth in most scenes and grain is era appropriate appeasing. Skin tones shade a little more toward orange but maintain within spec but on the higher end of a RGB. The print has sustained some damaged with a slew of scratches, dust and dirt, and cell burns peppered throughout and can be a nuisance but nothing terribly critical to warrant narrative loss or a complete loss of viewing pleasure. The English Dolby Digital Mono track offers little to try and immerse viewers into the swampy bayou and that’s a real shame since visual elements are detailed. There’s minor background noise is palpable but not distinct to warrant attention. Dialogue and the Bolivian born and “The Town that Dreaded Sundown’s” Jaime Mendoza-Nava’s gypsy-esque and minor key brass and percussion score are the heavy hitters in this presentation. Dialogue has insignificant hissing and crackling but as a whole, the track comes over clean enough to firm pass well over grade. Option subtitles are available. The only encoded bonuses are a 2024 commentary track by film enthusiast and artist Robert Kelly and a poster gallery that include not just “The Naked Witch” but other 60’s horror pictures. VCI’s standard Blu-ray incasement has one-sided still picture and illustrated compositional artwork that roughly produces the madness incarnated with the DVD on right and the Blu-ray on the left inside, individual pressed with images from the front cover. The region free disc has a runtime of 99 minutes and the film is rated R.

Last Rites: “The Naked Witch” has no skin in the game in its necromancy ways but finds the fog of dread easy to become lost in with interesting characters and a ghoulish witch and ritual vise gripping it on both ends on a verge of being something more.

“The Naked Witch” on Dual Format DVD/Blu-ray from VCI!

With Fame Comes Absurd EVIL Exploitation. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Limited-Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on June 17, 2025

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!

To compete against a rival fashion magazine who found profound success after hiring a famous gymnast as their spokesmodel, an ambitious fashion company sees potential in amateur golfer Reiko Sakuraba with her beauty, grace, and a decent enough golf game. The only problem is Reiko has not won a championship. The fashion company representative and Reiko’s sport’s columnist writer/manager/boyfriend Miyake strike a deal to get intensely train and mentally exhaust Reiko to be the best by the next tournament. When Reiko outperforms the tournament’s veteran players, she instantly becomes a fashion icon and celebrity that leads to her own show for the magazine, photoshoots, and a large house in the middle of the suburbs. Miyake’s aloof behavior continues even after Reiko’s success and while he drives her back home, he hits-and-runs a woman form the neighborhood who blackmails and guilts Reiko into letting her into the rich and famous lifestyle. Reiko’s mental health slowly declines as pressures mounts.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a tale of how the sudden rise of fame and fortune can quickly lead to world of hurt through inexperience, obsession, misguided love, abuse, and the day-to-day tasks that can even burden even the most common person. The story also represents a dichotomy between fame and the mundane. The 1977 Japanese surreal drama is helmed by Seijun Suzuki, a filmmaker once blacklisted by the head of Nikkatsu Studios after his film for the company, “Branded to Kill,” was deemed terrible by Nikkatsu execs, and rode the filmic bench for nearly a decade until his theatrical release of the Shochiku Ltd. Released production that allowed him the freedom for artistic expression. Also concisely known as “A Tale of Sorrow,” the Suzuki picture is written by Atsushi Yamatoya based off manga by Ikki Kajiware and produced by Yoshiki Nomura, Kenzo Asada, and Tokuya Shimada.

Yoko Shiraki steps into the tragic golf-cleated shoes of golfer-turned-spokesmodel Reiko Sakuraba who finds herself unknowingly being exploited as object of marketable objectification. What’s interesting about Sakuraba is she’s totally alone amongst other adults in a real cutthroat and cruel way through her trajectory of success. In the fashion world, the magazine representative behind the concept (Masumi Okada, “The Living Skeleton”) only wants her for her beauty and success, her boyfriend Miyake (Yoshio Harada, “Lady Snowblood 2: Love Song of Vengeance”), and even an once starstruck housewife, Kayo Senba (Kyôko Enami, “Killer Whale”) who was struck by Miyake’s car and resents Reiko’s, blackmailing her way into the superstar golfer’s life by forcing her hand to relinquish all from her worldly possessions to her mind, body, and soul. Shiraki gifts Sakuraba the fault of inability to say no with her innocence and naivety ravaged and exploited beyond the point of no return and beyond repair but Sakuraba clings to dear life, perhaps even sanity, because of tone person that too only reacts negatively around her but since their blood reaction is thicker in the watery connections manipulating her, Sakuraba’s hand is forced to do much all of the golfing and modeling hell for her adolescent younger brother Jun (Tetsu Mizuno), a smart yet reclusive boy with off screen aggression getting into fights with school bullies stemmed likely by his sister’s constant absence. Sakuraba’s not only a slave to external obsessions of success, image, and greed but also a slave to internal obsessions with Mikyake who deprives her of the most basic primal needs for financial gain and for manipulative control. Kôji Wada, Shûji Sano, Noboru Nakaya, sao Tamagawa, Tokie Hidari, and Jô Shishido co-star.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is Seijun Suzuki’s tour de force return to feature films. A linear narrative speckled with surrealistic doses creates an unsettling and bizarre atmosphere of strongarm manipulation on the unassertive character of Reiko Sakuraba. Her raw talent is mined and minced without much consent and pushed past mental exhaustion and collapse in what is an all too true theme surrounding the early television era of celebrity branding with esteemed figures being puppets for large scale companies in order to sell their promoted products. Money, image, and success steer the helm without any due remorse to the elegant centerpiece of the room, driving Suzuki’s social commentary to extreme levels of misappropriation of a human person with feelings and ambitions of their own. Instead, Reiko’s meekness is measured by Suzuki’s fabricated milieu of mistreatment represented partly in a behavioralism of semi-surrealism – Miyake’s stoic aloofness, Senba’s brazen hijack of Reiko’s fame and wealth, and even Jun’s withdraw and reclusion are all good archetype of strange conducts illegitimizing Reiko as person. She’s dehumanized so much so she stops whatever little rationality she had to begin with and becomes a vessel of command that allowed those around to walk all over her. Suzuki’s suburban reach toward fame theme is satirical for “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness’s” thin blanketing of dark comedy and the filmmaker often accentuates the moments with elongated sequences, randomized bits of eccentricity, and highly stylized contrasts of sex and violence as well as commercially sensationalized imagery versus Stepford wives’ expectations.

A bleak absurdist dream, “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” becomes rightly a part of the Radiance obscure, high level lineup with a new, limited-edition high-definition transfer Blu-ray release. The AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50 receives the high definition transfer from the Shochiku Corporation, who currently distributes a fair amount of Anime and since “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is adapted from a Ikki Kajiware’s Manga, the film fits right in, and is presented in by Radiance in the original aspect ratio of a widescreen 2.35:1. Radiance’s image quality surpasses expectations as visually bold in a wide variety of contrasting colors, especially in primaries of yellow and reds juxtaposed against achromatic shades of brilliant whites and deep blacks. The original print is beyond pristine with virtually no dust, dirt, scratches, or any kind of visual impediments in what appears to be a well-preserved 35mm reel. Skin tones appear naturally organic and textures pop in their specific fabrics inside an overlay of natural stock grain for that bare-faced aesthetic of clear based film strip. The Japanese uncompressed mono PCM audio, again, surpasses expectations with a diverse mix through a single output that creates excellent note individualism rather than an indistinct amalgam. The omitted compression codec provides the original audio framework comfortably upholding against the test of time without a flurry of issues in the single layer. Hissing, popping, crackling and other types of interference are kept either suppressed or to a bare minimal in another pristinely kept transfer. ADR dialogue clearly affixes to the images with synchronous efforts being no worse compared to other films of the era out of Japan. The newly improved English subtitles render without error, are compositionally more-or-less within syntax range of translation, and pace nicely throughout. Special features include a new audio commentary by film historian and author Samm Deighan, a new interview with assistant editor Kunihiko Ukai, and the film’s trailer. The clear Amaray case contains Sam Smith commissioned artwork on an obi-strip included reversible sleeve – primary cover composition is of a live still of exhausted Reiko Sakuraba lying next to a bunker with a spirally title font and the reverse cover is more NSFW with a partially nude Reiko with boyfriend Miyake portrayed in soft, dreamy glow. The white and red disc is pressed with eye-pleasing contrast and the inserted 31-page color booklet provides cast and crew credits, essay “Sorrow, Sadness, and the Sweet Smell of Excess” by Radiance regular contributor Jasper Sharp, an archive essay “The Realisation of a Seijun Sizuki Film” by Atsushi Yamatoya, and the Blu-ray acknowledgements. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Radiance Blu-ray has a runtime of 93 minutes, is unrated, and since Radiance is a UK boutique label, collectors and film aficionados will get the best of both worlds with a region A and B playback.

Last Rites: Seijun Suzuki’s return to theatrical feature films with “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a remarkable comeback for the ages and the decade interruption didn’t even cause a missed step for his artistic expression of exploitation and consumerism control ruining young, raw talent which is a clear-cut archetype of sorrow and sadness.

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!

The EVIL is Not Just in the Virus, but Also in the Cure! “Side Effects May Vary” reviewed! (Tempe Digital / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on June 8, 2025

“Side Effects May Vary” From This Blu-ray Drug!

COVID-19 virus has the world masked up and social distancing in full effect with experimental vaccines being rushed toward a rollout. For Glenn Rollins, being under the weather now for weeks still hasn’t convinced him to inject himself with experimental Government drugs meant to combat coronavirus but when wife Janelle does everything in her persuasive power to convince him to take the vaccine, Glenn reluctantly agrees to receive the shot at his doctor visit the next day. What Glenn is given is no ordinary coronavirus vaccine, but the new Alpha-21 concoction just released for public intravenous inoculation, an rapidly tested serum that boils subjects from the inside-out. Instead of completely exploding in a pile of blood and sinew, Glenn’s rare blood type maintains a semi-rigid form and the only way he can maintain from melting into a pile of goo is to feast on the blood and meat of the living in his zombified state.

The cult director behind “The Dead Next Door” and “Robot Ninja,” J.R. Bookwalter, returns to take a hypodermic needle stab at a world-crippling pandemic horror inspired by the COVD-19 virus and how the FDA rushed to approve emergency vaccinations on U.S. citizens in a comically satirical, gore-and-goo-filled comedy-horror. The movie, “Side Effects May Vary,” is Bookwalter’s first film in over 20-years, the last being “Mega Scorpions” that only saw a streaming release due to a folding in the financing of a distribution deal. “Psycho Sisters” and “Her Name Was Crista” writer James L. Edwards, who’s collaborated with Bookwalter since the very beginning of the filmmaker’s career, pens the script and also stars in the disturbing desquamation of Glenn role. “Side Effects May Vary” is the second direct-and-writer production between Bookwalter and Edwards with the first being 1996’s “Polymorph. As like many of Bookwalter’s films, he produces under his longstanding own indie label Tempe Digital serving as executive producer alongside Edwards producing and wife Lana Bookwalter as associate producer.

I wouldn’t call Glenn Rollins a right-wing conservative antivaxxer but, instead, Glenn’s a doubter of the vaccine’s testing measures with a range of side effects from an experimental injectable could cause from a vaccine so unproven swirling inside his head. That’s the satirical concept Bookwalter and Edwards put into motion and deliver fully charged as mild-mannered Glenn gorges on the innards of family, friends, neighbors and strangers after unpleasantries arise from an untested product. The likeable Rollins rears an ugliness brought upon by pressures of vaccination, especially from his wife Janelle, played by indie horror scream queen Tina Krause (“Crimson Nights,” “Bloodletting”). Another scream queen of legendary acclamation is in on the fun with Brinke Stevens (“The Slumber Party Massacre,” “Sole Survivor”) as the saucy nosy neighbor who knows all the sexual acts by their sporty designations. We journey from the beginnings of a substance subjugation and are wiggled into a buddy cop scenario between Glenn Rollins’ best friend and former cop turned private eye Jack Murray (Drew Foriter, “Trivial”) and his former boss and one-night-stand Chief Tom Danvers (“Floyd Ewing Jr., “Robot Ninja”) and their sudden thrust into an investigation to find Glen under their distinct impressions of his character, plus that one sexual encounter between them, makes for a good dynamic of sidetracking diversion that interrupts a constant flow, which can get stale, of formality and responsibility of chasing a killer. The cast Sasha Graham (“Trivial”) as the prescribing primary care physician Dr. Fisher, Wendy Zier (“Trivial”), Tom Hoover (“Ozone”), and David Bachmeier (“Bathtub Shark Attack”) as the first scene test subject of Alpha-21’s explosive results.

A relief will wash over fans to know J.R. Bookwalter is not dead in the water when it comes to directing. A long hiatus was exactly what Bookwalter needed to get back to form after a string of mediocre horror that didn’t leave a bad taste in our mouths but wasn’t quite the standard of the Ohioan director’s carnage-laden caliber. “Side Effects May Vary” spoke to nationwide fears during the global pandemic, in a humorously horrifying way, and even extends beyond that now historical portion of our time into the forefront of our minds that we may have not have yet seen the actual long-term effects of the COVID shots, if any. The intention of “Side Effects May Vary” is not to instill fear, though does create a fraction of concern, but is more to the tune of exaggerated those once media covered and one-sided fears to the extreme by turning injected patients into boiling potato sacks of putrid cannibalism. It’s pretty damn funny and gross. To create a vibrant visual veneer, Bookwalter plays with different lighting angles and color gels of primary neon illumination that takes characters out of the real world and places them into a fantastical neon-noir that surrenders to the sexualized, the scandalous, and the scary story bits and pieces. The buddy-cop, manhunt storyline works as bodies are left as breadcrumbs for the two conflicting investigators that are on the precipice of making a final decision on Glenn Rollin’s fate while Glenn himself battles internally, both physically and emotionally, his wretched state that needs blood to slow down the process of his metaphorizing melting but his mild-manner, nice-guy identity doesn’t want to harm a soul.

Tempe Digital castrates the COVID cure scare with an incredible liquescent comedy-horror in “Side Effects May Vary” on a director’s cut Blu-ray home video. The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD25 comes with a ton of color, contrast lighting, and a decent compression codec that makes the low-budget production appear a step or two up the upscale staircase. The heavy neon light cuts into the skin and textural details but scenes more naturally lit, such as in the outdoors, fair better with more granular inside a digital presentation in its original aspect ratio of 1.78:1. There are two English audio mixes available for selection and audiophile setup in a DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo. The surround sound selection has a semi-fluid dynamic that works in a contained closed to medium shot arrangement and doesn’t expand to anything beyond to warrant an immersive experience aside from a healthier fidelity of the dialogue, proximity milieu, and the gruesome creature sound effects. Dialogue can get out of the reigned in alignment that breaks in with sparse unfiltered hissing but otherwise renders cleanly and clearly through the 81-minute runtime. English subtitles are available. Special features encoded are an audio commentary with director J.R Bookwalter, a Harris Theater Q&A in Pittsburgh at the Roadshow Opening Night with film guests Bookwalter, writer-star James L. Edwards, and actor Floyd Ewing Jr., a theatrical roadshow cut trailer, a teaser trailer, and the theatrical trailer. Art from the Alex Sarabia and Karl Munster collaboration gives a pulpy artistic rendition of Glenn Rollins oozing deterioration inside a clear Amaray Blu-ray with no supporting supplements other than a cropped version of the art on the disc. The not-rated, region free disc is a perfect cure for what ails you – bad indie comedy-horror done right!

Last Rites: A global pandemic killed millions of people, the silver-lining is now we can look back at that time of isolation and fear and honor those deaths with a coronavirus and rushed-cure blend act worthy of being to the likes of “Bad Taste.”

“Side Effects May Vary” From This Blu-ray Drug!

EVIL Nazis, Mad Lumberjacks, and Insatiable Nymphomaniacs! “Up!” reviewed! (Severin Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on May 20, 2025

It Won’t Be Hard to Get it “Up!” on Blu-ray!

Perverted Nazi, Adolf Schwartz, is murdered in his castle’s hot tub after a masochistic romp with his paid sadists, including male Dom named Paul. Paul helps run a small restaurant-bar owned by his wife, Alice, and the two have a good thing going about town in working together and making love day-in, day-out. When busty new neighbor Margo Winchester moves to their quiet, quaint town, she’s immediately raped by the locate hoodlum and kills him defending herself. Officer Homer Johnson witnesses the entire ordeal and amends his report to reflect the hoodlum was not killed by Margo but rather fell off a cliff in order for him and Margo be constant bedfellows, but when Margo begins to work for Paul and Alice, a quadruple love-triangle ensues and there’s still the matter of who killed Adolf Schwartz in a small wooded community filled up to the brim with massive sexual appetites and ulterior hijinks.

“Up!” is Russ Meyer’s 1976 released, oversexed gambol bringing with it an explicit nature a polyamorous, sex-for-all, character cast of players riding overtop a threadbare plot of that resembles something along the lines of murder mystery. Is this Russ Meyer’s attempt the Italian giallo? Offscreen killer, gloved hands, multiple suspects, most certainly a very vivid fleshy aesthetic, and a big brass jazz orchestra to back it up musically, “Up!” carries most, if not all, of the trademark building blocks that makeup popular thrilling subgenre but tailored in only a pageantry of perversion only Russ Meyer’s knows how to do it from his own imagination and story collaborated with Anthony-James Ryan (“Vixen!”) and the late, esteemed critic Robert Ebert. Once under the working title of “Over, Under and Up!.” Meyer’s produces his production under his company RM Films International with associate producing credits attributed to long term collaborators Fred Owens and Uschi Digard.

Like most of Meyer’s auteur films, “Up!” is a quirky plotted story with quirky plowing characters converging into idiosyncratic copulating chaos surrounding a singular problem. The cast of charactes are just as eccentric and eccentrically written as the inside of Meyer’s rapid storytelling and no-nonsense nudist eye. Multiple principal leads create a confounding multi-string focus with an esemble character contingent that receive their own backstories, their own emphasized subplot tangents, and they crisscross paths with each other through an array of coitus montages that’s it would be no surprise if this small woodland community all had raging case of singularized strain of syphilis. “Up!” opens with the masochist perversions of a Hitler variant in Adolf Schwartz (Edward Schaaf, “The Flesh Merchant”) in the throes of being self-purposefully exploited by bosomy gimp The Headperson (“Candy Samples, “Beneath the Valley of Ultra-Vixens”), the ball-bustin’ Ethopian Chef (Elaine Collins, “Fantasm Comes Again”), the Asian persuasion Limehouse (Su Ling, “Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks”), and whip-master and male dom Paul (Robert McClaine, “A Very Natural Thing”). Paul’s the only character to continue through the story narrated nakedly through our breaking the third wall maestro, The Greek Chorus, played lively and in a state of fully and forever buff by former Russ Meyer wife and adult film star Kitten Navidad in her first principal acting role. Paul along with Alice (Janet Wood, “Fangs!”) have a more stable presence in the story and same goes for who would likely be “Up’s!” lead character Margo Winchester (Raven de la Croix, “The Lost Empire”) and one of more prominent male lead characters, officer Homer Johnson (Monty Bane, “Sleepwalkers”) in a fervorous fit of philandering and fuc…I mean sexing…between the four while running the town full of loggers and locals on Alice’s grand opening of her second restaurant jamboree. There are other side characters too that come and go, have more stage presence than others, but are always circled back to in flashback and in the Greek Chorus’s audience-directed commentating of suspicion and events, such the lesbian truck driver Gwendolyn (“Linda Sue Ragsdale), rapist Leonard Box (Larry Dean), the smoking peace pipe that is the stark naked Pocahontas (Foxy Lae), and Bob Schott (“Gymkata”) as the large grunting logger Rafe.

If what’s been described hasn’t been clear, perhaps to my horrendous descriptive writing no doubt, “Up!” has a political correctness that goes right into the garbage in scene one with a thrust-hard jab right at Adolf Hitler’s sexuality in the most hardcore and kinky perversity and, from there, plenty of other sexual objectifications against men and women, Native Indian American stereotyping, teetering racial commentary, and an overall nonchalant air quality on intimate encounters in Meyer’s inclination for spoof, satire, and sex. Meyer shows no shame, remorse, or even letting his lead foot off the break toward the highly energetic debauchery between character carnality and his rapid-fire editing style that, as like throughout his career, has been seamlessly well put together to keep continuity integrity and make sense of the whole damn bedlam of frenzied bedding, violence, and fornicating flashbacks, but it must be noted that Meyer’s giallo with gusto storyline is severely stretched thin. Unlike the “Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens” that was released a couple of years later, the same harnessed liveliness charged through both films is not as focused in “Up’s!” common core narrative primarily because of the continuously dwelled upon flashbacks of reintroducing characters repeatedly to build suspicion upon those possibly “Clue”-like designed list of suspects. Campy and a jovial orgy, peppered with some tension and bloodshed excellent junctures, “Up!” is above and beyond a good time sexploitation drivellers will treasure.

The latest release from Severin’s Russ Meyer’s Bosomania collection is “Up!” now on a 1080p high-definition, AVC encoded, BD50 Blu-ray presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Scanned and restored in 4K from the original 35mm camera negative, “Up!” visually tickles the right spots with a vibrant and naturally granulated presentation, balanced in its color diffusion, and accurately represented and reproduced skin and texture tones to enhance the period’s cinematic appearance. As far as pristine prints, the 35mm stock has held the test of time in its preservation without any major damage or plight hiccups aside from the more protuberant dust, dirt, and smaller scratches. Contrast levels are a minor sore point in rendered night scenes that reduce delineation for more the nighttime effect but doesn’t hurt the overall value and restoration efforts. The English LPCM mono track lacks the vitality as any fidelity true reproduction through a surround mix may offer as “Up!” is a fast-paced, ripping-and-roaring, chorus of sights and sounds meticulously constructed by the auteur himself but the mono honestly enthusiastic and we’re still able to distinct each note and ruckus through Meyer’s rapid-fire A/V design compositions, captured precising and without interference or intrusion through post Foley and dubbing work. Same goes with ADR that’s always seemingly 2 or 3 layers above the rest of the soundtrack as Meyer’s script is flamboyantly dialogue heavy with Kitten Navidad’s narration of events and plenty of vocal deluge for flirtatious affairs by way of innuendo and blunt channels. English closed captioning is available on this release. The special features are not as plenty on “Up!” as they are on other Bosomania releases with an audio commentary by film historian Elizabeth Purchell, who was also on the previous Russ Meyer collection titles, an archived interview No Fair Tale….This! from The Russ Meyer Trust with star Raven De La Croix, and a radio spot for the feature. Displayed like the rest with a primary red and black board surrounding white padding, “Up!” is down with the deep cleavage of Raven De La Croix on its one-sided cover art. Inside the black Blu-ray Amaray, the disc is pressed with the same image but with greater resolution detail of Margo Winchester’s best assets in an open cut dress. The region free release has a runtime of 80 minutes and is unrated.

Last Rites: A romp tour-de-force, “Up!” and the rest of the Russ Meyer’s Bosomania collection is Severin Films’ most bust-filled merry-go-rounds that’s one-part Benny Hill, one-part Fanny Hill, and all parts an sexploitation extravaganza.

It Won’t Be Hard to Get it “Up!” on Blu-ray!

EVIL Chews Through Its Own Loved Ones as “The Vourdalak” reviewed! (Oscilloscope Laboratories / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on May 16, 2025

“The Vourdalak” Available Now at Amazon.com!

The special emissary of the King of France is ambushed by Turks in an isolated Slovic countryside. With his carriage and clothes stolen and his driver-servant dead, Monseigneur Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé has nothing more than the clothes on his back. He finds himself in the home of Gorcha, an enemy of the Turks, who resides with his three adult children, a daughter in law, and a grandson, but Gorcha was not presently there to greet his hapless visitor until his returns later that day from fighting the Turkish raiders. Yet, aside from the oldest son Jegor, the family’s superstitious beliefs lead them to doubt Gorcha returning home human and instead has returned as vourdalak, or a blood hungry vampiric creature who feeds on his own loving family to turn them all into the same unnatural ilk. From an outsider’s point of view, what Marquis d’Urfé witnesses initially is a strange peasant family’s irritational fear turn into a harrowing horror as one-by-one the family members reach an unfortunate end after the return of Gorcha.

Based off the gothic novella “La Famille du Vourdalak. Fragment inedit des Memoires d’un inconnu” from Russian author Aleksey Konstantinovic Tolstoy, a story that plays on the etymology of the Slavic folklore word Wurdulac, or a vampire-like creature, that exacts a similar transpiring fate as described in the above plotline of Adrien Beau’s “The Vourdalak.” The writer-director fleshes out the 1839 Tolstoy story, one that’s predates Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” by nearly 60 years, for his own period set rendition created for modern times almost two centuries later in 2023 as his debut feature-length film. The French film is cowritten alongside Hadrien Bouvier who doesn’t depict the vampiric creature as a nobleman, or even a man of wealth, but rather as a likely lowly serf of the countryside under a noble or lord. Yet, the script, very much like Tolstoy’s novella, is contained within the family and their home rather than expanding across continents and seas, as in Stoker’s “Dracula.” “The Vourdalak” is produced by “Alone in Berlin’s” Marco and Lola Pacchnioni and Judith Lou Lévy (“Zombie Child”) under the production banners of Les Films du Ball, Master Movies and, in association with, Cinemage 17 and Amazon.

A period piece with an intimate cast brings closer together the targeted era of late 18^th century to early 19^th century costuming, articles, and, to extent, performances that sell the monarchial times of French aristocracy and Slavic provincials living humbly on the fringes of an everlasting Russo-Turkish war that spanned decades. Leading the charge is the only French aristocrat portrayed character in the story played by Kacey Mottet Klein (“The Suicide Shop”). Dressed in traditional Empiric style high collar shirt, petty coat, and a white wig and garishly garnished with white pale-looking makeup with mouche, an adhesive mole, to reflect their wealth and status, Klein’s prim-and-proper, yet prudish and prissy, Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé is finely out of his element with a satisfiable character arc that has the Monseigneur go from a squeamish snob to finding compassion, sympathy, and courage amongst darkness aimed to swallow a family whole as d’Urfé’s high society and fantastical life clashes with the real world with war, necessity, death, natural beauty, unconventionalities, and consideration through another type of fantasy lens, a troubling, insidious darkness that plagues and feeds on the blood from within a domestic design that’s ruthless as it is unfathomable. Jegor (Grégoire Colin, “Bastards”) is the loyal eldest son, Piotr (Vassili Schneider, “The Demons”) is the sexual orient ambiguous second son with external emotions unlike his other brother, Sdenka (Ariane Labed, “The Brutalist”) is the free-spirited but melancholic beauty, Anja (Claire Duburcq, “She is Conann”) as Jegor’s more than practical and realistic wife and young Vlad (Gabriel Pavie) is Jegor and Anje’s preadolescent boy. The aforenoted characters are all embodied by a physical, living person to play the role but Gorcha is a horse of another color. In fact, Gorcha’s not a living thing at all and is actually a puppet personified by two puppeteers and voiced by director Adrien Beau. The puppet has an emaciated appearance, resembling closely to those used in “Return of the Living Dead, and with the power of green screen, the animating arms and bodies are overlayed out and Gorcha lives and breathes with an animatism spirit that’s creepy as all Hell with an underscoring tow of vampirism.

In its essence, “The Vourdalak” embraces the simplicity with a less-is-more atmosphere, a self-assured reliance in the palpable and practical, and a confidence in its cast to extract the drama and horror of a longstanding folklore and deliver its poignant potency with eccentric diversity and steady anxiety. Beau drenches dread into every crevice that sticks like humidity to its subdued black comedy attire. Yes, “The Vourdalak,” though grim and dark, has a sliver of comedy course through its bloodlet and lapped up veins from the main character’s perspective who, at first, is quite out of his comfortable, aristocracy element being wiggled into a lower-class family’s unusual dysfunctionality. There’s also the puppet aspect integrated into living, breathing actors as if one of their own and that certainly as a basic layer of absurd surrealism, the French know a thing or two about liberal arts absurdism. Beau’s shooting style resembles a blend between the fixed camera and low-key lit silent films, also implementing throwback spyglass shots that were widely used in the early cinematic period, and the Euro-horror movement of the 1960s to early 1980s with an ominous romanticism, a dark and creepy-fog environment, and tinged to cooler shades of soft blues and greens all the while lightly touching upon themes of sexuality, homosexuality, and family structures that often collide with one another to stir the pot and overshadows the imminent danger in front of them.

“The Vourdalak” is unpredictably grotesque in the most amusingly macabre way and is now on a region free Blu-ray release from our friends at Oscilloscope Laboratories. AVC encoded onto the BD50, the high definition, 1080p resolution, might throw audiences and purveyors of physical media for a loop when the picture isn’t as fine as expected for a modern released picture. That’s because Adrien Beau shot “The Dourdalak” in Super 16mm that enlivens a grainy and soft toned picture that can appear slightly blurry, resembling the ilk of European horror from the 1960s-1980s Presented in an anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio, Beau is very committed the coldness of bleak grays, blues, reds and the variant fused shades of purple, pink, and teals that sparingly envelope the entire frame with a lens tint in surreal moments, such as fever dreams or emulated night shots. Though unfocused at times, plenty of distinction can still be rendered, such as the very stooge features and qualities of the Gorcha puppet. The French DTS-HD Master Audio stereo track is an audio sensory mini-triumph. In its modest sound design, minor qualitative sounds instill creepy atmospherics, especially the sound prominence of a raw chewing theme associated with the vourdalak creature’s folklore. Adrien Beau also better animates and personifies his Gorcha puppet with a wheezy and struggling voice over for who is supposed to be a very elderly father-grandfather in an undernourished and skeletal appearance with sunken, bulging eyes and a near fully exposed teeth. The special features include two of Adrien Beau’s short films “Les Condiments Irreguliers” and “La Petite Sirene” as well as a behind-the-scenes featurette that’s more of the raw footage of animating and acting the Gorcha puppet without the visual effects removing the puppeteers. The Oscilloscope Laboratories Blu-ray comes in a clear Amaray case with soft, airbrushed quality composition artwork of a calm Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé being feasted upon around his neck by the vourdalak. The reverse side contains a still image of a medium-far shot of one of the more powerful images in the film of a graveyard d’Urfé passes through as if it was a revolving doorway in and out of death. A simple yellow title and label name are splayed across the disc, consistent and normal per the company’s design, and the film is not rated with a runtime of 90 minutes.

Last Rites: Rarely do I give a five-star review for a film but Adrien Beau’s “The Vourdalak” is a fascinating and frightening visualization of Aleksey Konstantinovic Tolstoy story that trades visceral images for palpable ones in a folkloric entrancement of unnatural beings disrupting the natural world, a concept worth chewing on the nape of the neck for.

“The Vourdalak” Available Now at Amazon.com!