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Crooked EVIL’s Fixation for Chocolate and a Childlike Girl Will be its Sole Destruction. “The Dead Mother” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Dead Mother” Lives on a 2-Disc, LE Blu-ray/CD Set from Radiance Films!

A botched burglary of an art restorer’s home leaves the art conservationist dead and her daughter wounded by a shotgun blast at the hands of apathetic criminal Ismael Lopez.  Years later, the daughter, Leire, has grown into being a young and beautiful simpleton at a mentally disabled clinic where the mute girl often recesses to a caretaker’s city home off clinic grounds.  By coincidence, the lifelong crook Ismael catches sight of her on the street and becomes obsessed with her witness of his past transgressions.  Conferring with his love-hate girlfriend and felonious partner Maite, the two decide to kidnap her while she’s off clinic campus and put her up for ransom after Ismael couldn’t bring himself to initially kill her but an increasing preoccupation for the chocolate-fond and childlike Leire within a stoic Ismael places an insidious jealously and enigmatic strain between him and Maite that tests that already turmoiled codependency of affection and survival.

Emotionally recrudescent with multiple intrinsic layers of tough guilt, incontrollable desire, and maybe even a pinch of forbearing responsibility that can be labeled cossetting at times, “The Dead Mother” is a beautiful film with unsettling undertones from Spanish filmmaker Juanma Bajo Ulloa.  The “Baby” director cowrite the “The Dead Mother” alongside younger brother Eduardo Bajo Ulloa, their second collaboration after hit success with the duo’s crime thriller “Butterfly Wings” two years prior in 1991.  The Spanish film is shot primarily in Vitoria, Spain with the backdrop of a near classic medieval architecture of urban city with old wooden interiors, high ceilers, and gothic qualities, providing a relative old world air to a tale of petty ideals and madness that disintegrates by the mere site of pure, ingenuous goodness. Under the private and state run production companies Ministry of Culture and Gasteizko Zinema, “The Dead Mother,” or “La Madre Muerta,” is produced by Fernando Bauluz.

To obtain the intensity, the coldness, the unpredictable, the pitch-black humor, and the soft touch, Juanma Bajo Ulloa doesn’t hire a vocational dramatic.  Instead, the filmmaker chances actor just getting his feet wet the Spanish cinema with Karra Elejalde whose assortment of comedy and drama in his first years seasons him for the role of the reprobate Ismael Lopez, a coldhearted killer with a short fuse for anyone who defies or belittles him and, on the opposite side, can be pensive about his past and next steps in a haphazard way. Opposite Ismael is a devout partner/lover, equal in ruthless potential, yet happy, in her own way, to play house wife in their ramshackle, fly-by-night home.  Played by the Portuguese-born, Belgium-raised singer Lio, her stage name in lieu of Vanda Maria Ribeiro Furtado Tavares de Vasconcelos, the pop star, who still to this day floats between acting and singing, rivals Elejalde’s dark-and-light intensity within her own character’s amorous feelings for the petty crook and murder and would do anything to keep him, even if that means destroying what he adores.  And what does Ismael adore?  Ismael’s new fascination is with Leire, the once little girl who attempted to murder now all grown up, developmentally disabled, and beautiful.  While I can’t fault in any of “The Dead Mother’s” cast performances, I could not imagine Leire being portrayed by anyone other than Ana Álvarez (“Geisha”).  Exuding innocence in her eyes amongst a full-body vacuity, Lio might be the professional singer but it’s Álvarez who hits every note of amentia that constantly has us questioning how much of her facility is there, conscious of the bizarre love-triangle or the homicidal-involving abduction.  In the same breadth, a muted Álvarez talks with her eyes, her expressions, and her body language that subtly fidgets or does other under-the-radar subnormal behaviors to convey an unequivocal virtue starkly in contrast amongst her callous captors who enjoy playing house or even try to make her smile or laugh with jokes and play.  Eventually, the dynamic dissolves, like many love triangles do, between an advantageous perversion and deadly ultimatums that will result unfavorably for most.  “The Dead Mother” rounds out the cast with Silvia Marsó, Elena Irureta, Ramón Barea, and Gregoria Mangas.

Ismael’s fixation toward Leire is so tremendously opaque without much exertion it’s difficult to understand the criminal’s ultimate motives, leaving audiences with a shrouded aftertaste of open interpretation.  Perhaps guilty from killing his mother all those years ago and nearly killing her, a wash of responsibility for her now placid and childish existence courses through him, driving him to do the bare necessity in taking care of her.  Another facet to Ismael’s curious interest is Leire’s inherent beauty despite her absent situational awareness.  His attempts to make the young woman’s empty expression become joyous with a smile fails, as if that blank-faced barrier keeps him from moving forward with something akin to being romantically involved.  In a couple of brief, uncomfortable viewing stints, Ismael gropes with the second time being passionately fondled by Maite in attempt to win over affection in what Maite believes is a duel between Leire for his attention.  Leire can be interpreted as a burden that has passed from the mother, hence the title, to Ismael, an assuming responsibility pseudo-father figure.  When Ismael kills Leire’s mother during the bungled burglary, a hint of a smile extends upon her face before the blood drips down her eyes in a fantastic POV shot by cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe.  Supporting this theory is the Renaissance painting of mother and child with a tear in the canvas between them, a painting that Ismael lingers over for a few seconds while rummaging through the art restorer’s home.  The ambiguous nature of “The Dead Mother” only succeeds because of the confident performances and Juanma Bajo Ulloa’s august eye for the impeccable shots he wants and achieves. 

“The Dead Mother” arrives onto a limited-edition Blu-ray, to the tune of 3000 copies, from Radiance Films U.S. line.  The new 4K scanned transfer, restored from the 35mm negative and stored on an AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, BD50, is presented in a widescreen 2.35:1 Cinemascope aspect ratio.  Juanma Bajo Ulloa oversaw the pristine cleaning of film strip defects and the new, frame-by-frame color grading at the Cherry Towers lab in Madrid, Spain.  The excellent work by the restoration company and Ulloa’s supervision of the process resulted in a naturally clean edged and detailed saturated transfer to rejuvenate the image with a fresh look.  The overcasting shadows and slate aesthetics with brilliantly hued low-key lighting suggest an immense lugubrious tone throughout, accentuated by the antediluvian structures. The Spanish language uncompressed 2.0 stereo audio absorbs what’s absent, which isn’t much, with an uninhibited, original fidelity of the dialogue, surrounding milieu, and the bordering whimsical string soundtrack by Bingen Mendizábal. There are no hints of hissing, cracking, popping, or fragmented damage of the audio track that persists on being punchy with every Ismael scuffle down to the very rustling of the chocolate wrapper in Leire’s chocolate-stained hands. While range is plentiful and natural, depth is not as utilized unless absolutely necessary, such as with the oncoming horns of the diesel trains in the trainyard or Ismael whistling between the pews of a decrepit church shot from the chorus balcony. English subtitles are available and optional. Special features on this limited-edition set include a Spanish audio commentary by the director with burned in English subtitles, The Story of the Dead Mother an archive behind-the-scenes featurette of retrospective interviews from 2008 and some raw footage of takes that’s, again, in the Spanish language with English subtitles, Bajo Ulloa’s short film “Victor’s Kingdom” aka “El Reino de Victor” from 1989 and now restored in a 4K scan, the film’s trailer, and photo gallery. Physical attributes impress within the clear, slightly thicker amary Blu-ray case that’s been conventional distribution use with Radiance Films in its near retro, austere facade. Sheathing a reversible cover of the original media artwork inside, the outside cover continues to remind me of its Arthur Fleck appeal with a doleful Ismael Lopez in his very best clown make up. Both discs, the Blu-ray and the CD soundtrack, are overlapped and locked in place pressed their respective black and creme coloring scheme. On the insert side contains a 35-page color booklet filled to the brim with captured film images, promotional images, and cast-and-crew posed pictures along with the CD track listing, cast and crew breakdown, and expressionism written pieces and essays by Eduardo Bajo Ulloa, Juanma Bajo Ulloa, Nacho Vigalondo, and Xavier Aldana Reyes. The unrated feature has a runtime of 111 minutes and his region free for all you worldly, cultured lovers of cinema out there. The mother might be dead but Juanma Bajo Ulloa’s converging of cynical odd behavior with the breakdown of status quo by a wicked curveball makes for a darkly cherub of Spanish filmmaking worth coddling in Radiance’s exceptional release.

“The Dead Mother” Lives on a 2-Disc, LE Blu-ray/CD Set from Radiance Films!

Prancing Forest EVIL Will Seduce You to Death! “Devil Times Two” reviewed! (SRS Cinema / DVD)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Devil Times Two” on DVD from SRS Cinema

A forest encircled convent hidden away from the Milan population undertakes an occult responsibility to keep bloodthirsty and callous demons from entering the human world.  On the verge of retiring, Father Ernesto Taro, a once formidable force for good who exorcised a powerful demon decades ago that cost the lives of many in his fellow cohort except for Mother Dolores, takes on a younger understudy to be his replacement, the ambitious Father Chuck Bennet.  Father Taro and Bennet were summoned by Mother Dolores when grisly body of a young hiker is discovered.  A pair of former Nazi sadists turned Netherworld demons come to Father Bennet in a vision and are suspected to be the carnage culprits.  Souls are at stake and the world is on the brink of falling into darkness as the Returnees are only the right hand of a more profound evil itching for complete and utter omnipotence. 

“Devil Times Two” is an Italian-made, demonology-contextualized horror from Italy writer-director Paolo del Fiol.  Having purveyed grindhouse horror in anthological means with previous films “Connections” and “Sangue Misto,,” del Fiol branches out into his solo feature-length narrative set in the 1970s as a faux lost film recovered onto VHS from the only known syndicate televised program on Telelaguna to account the terrible tale full of profane hostilities, sexual stimulating supremacy, and, of course, gore in the interlacing recognition between the popular devil, demon, or hell on Earth inspired movies and the obscenities connected to eurotrash and sleaze movement of the 70s topped a hint of Japanese adulation, a motif heavily sprinkled into the film carried over from the director’s previous work as well.  Underscored by the tagline Quado le Tenebre escono al Bosco, or When Darkness comes out of the Woods, “Devil Time Two” once again pits religious good versus irreligious evil in this Himechan Movie Production self-produced by Paolo del Fiol.

Characterized as the titular pair, Returnees Jasmine and Umeko are the ethereally evil duet of diabolical detriment who seemingly float in and out of the material world as alluring succubi, seducing prey into their web of demonic lust and languish.  Some turn up grotesquely inside out while some others disappear, saved for later for special ritualistic planning.  Erika Saccà, an Italian fitness instructor in her debut role, plays the blonde Returnee Jasmine in a sleeveless, lowcut gown and with nearly ever kill, exposes and massages her augmented bosom with underboob scarring in a change to showoff her toned physique, and Reiko Nagoshi (“Re-Flesh”) wears a kimono without any unveiling of skin but does a bit of thrust-damage on her quarry that initially and inexplicable appears to be a strange phenomena when everyone in the scene is a woman but becomes apparent there’s something unholy and very “War of the World’s” alien under that traditional Japanese garb.  Saccà and Nagoshi wear many hats in this product but also don’t have the dialogue to hoist their demonesses higher.  The dialogue is left with the trio of convent gatekeepers in Father Taro (Enrico Luly), Father Bennet (Paolo Salvadeo, “Occultus”), and Mother Dolores (Amira Lucrezia Lamour, “Re-Flesh”) in what becomes a deeper understanding of their backstories around Father Taro’s deadly bittersweet exorcism decades ago, his on the sly and subtle affection for Mother Dolores, and Father Bennet’s questionable rise to supersede Father Taro, laying a foundation of doubt within the current gatekeeper.  While I like the contrasting dynamics of the two factions within the cast, I found the discourse overly bulk and tedium between the trio of piety that strung on scenes way too long with way too much talk that it ultimately suppresses the pacing when every little detail has been uncovered and explained. All the casted bits in between are slaughter fodder with Denise Brambillasca, Alessandro Carnevale Pellino (“The Wicked Gift”), and Martina Vuotti in non-defying death roles.

Paolo del Fiol’s unaccompanied and independent deluge of demonian debut has doses of phantasmagorical imagery sublet by its more shocking and odd immolation of incognizant individuals unlucky enough to cross paths with the Returnees. Likely to have never seen, Fiol’s film very similarly compares to James Sizemore’s “The Demon Rook” by creating unique mythos not reliant on a religious bedrock and use independency as an advantage for showcasing practical makeup and effects and while “The Demon Rook” would overwhelm with prosthetic made-up characters, “Demon Times Two” focuses attention more on the guts of the matter, the gore, but though not pernicious enough to the story, the eyeball sucking, throat lacerating, or intestine exposing bloodshed is prosaic panoply that won’t outshine in the sea of subgenre synonyms. Aforementioned dialogue scenes can be a slog to get through with many exchanges overstaying its course between the pious gatekeepers, especially between Father Taro and Dorlores, and that hurts the pacing to pick up the gore more frequently for more potency. Instead, exchanges are more elucidations that go around-and-around to where we’re lost on the mounting reveal of the Returnees’ mission and master which turns out to be visually more stimulating and visceral in the last ten minutes than in the first 100 minutes of runtime. The backlot lore is Fiol’s greatest achievement simulating a 70’s style grainy movie caveated as only broadcasted once on December 8th, 1983 (a few days before this reviewer’s birthday) and never seen again until it’s VHS recording is recovered.

Under a pretense of being a buried lost film, under the tribute of a grainy and scratched psychotronic celluloid, and under the falsity of genuine huge knockers, “Devil Times Two” is twice baked into a classic contemporary dish served by SRS Cinema on DVD. Arriving on the SRS Cinema: Extreme and Unrated Nightmare Fuel label, “Devil Times Two” is nothing short of being a modern-day emulator of once was with suitable grain overlay, a hazy, if not washed, overcast grading, and trope-laden atmospherics with dense fog, unnerving dissonances within earshot, and blood brilliantly cut with pseudo Telelagua commercial programming of brief adverts until returning to regular scheduled programed checked in and out by a gondola and it’s gondolier in dusk silhouette. Presented in a pillar box 1.33:1 aspect ratio, the fuzzy and non-delineated details are not a punch to the salient gut as the intent here is to be obscure, opaque, and ominous in nature and in technique bathed in 480p. The Italian PCM is the exact recreation of a time period post-dubbing with the actors re-dialoguing their performances as it was common practice in most motion picture industries, especially Europe, at the time. ADR is clear but not necessarily clean to recreate that shushing and crackling of an older recording. The subtitles are also forced or burned into the film with the sole Italian audio option. Bonus content includes what is called Backstage, a raw filming look into the production shoots and behind-the-scenes footage with no real direction or cosmetics, a photo gallery, a trailer with English subtitles, and other SRS Cinema released trailers. The SRS Cinema DVD front cover resembles mock-70’s, thick-red font with a bare woman’s back dressed in a painted Satanic symbol within the border of a VHS-esque rental casing with rental stickers. Inside the amaray case is a pressed disc with an extreme close up and crop of the same front cover with no insert in the adjacent slot. Pacing burdens this release, especially in its near 2-hour runtime with a clock-in at 114 minutes which is approx. 24-minutes too long in my opinion and the film comes not rated and has region free playback. No matter how much arcane the content is, or how grotesque the horror show, or how much perversity and skin can be unclothed, “Devil Times Two” has difficulty retaining a flow of fascination in a rather windbag approach to a rather devilishly good salvo construction.

“Devil Times Two” on DVD from SRS Cinema

X-rated Adult EVIL Without Any Calling Cards. “Man at the Door” reviewed! (Impulse Pictures / DVD)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

X-rated and Exploitational “Man at the Door” on DVD!

Virtuous Anne arrives home after a stretch of day shopping and answers the ringing phone.  On the other line is her more uninhibited sister Jill telling Anne she’ll be working late, undeclaring her naked reverse cowgirl position on top of her equally naked boss’s lap.  Immediately after, Anne receives a phone call asking if Jill or if Anne’s roommate is home.  The stranger quickly hangs up soon after Anne admits their absence.  A following knock at the front door opens to Anne meeting a tall man claiming to be her roommate’s date.  Skeptical, Anne is at first hesitant about letting him inside until he forces his way in, ties her up, and molests her half-naked body before stealing her virginity with one thrust before the opening of the front door and an Anne’s unsuspecting roommate encounters the brute, but she takes his aggressive perversion in stride, eager to partake into his sexual tyranny, and finally able to bed the sweet and innocent Anne after long-lusting after her.  When promiscuous sister Jill arrives, more-the-merry for the horny home invader.

As far as time encapsulated sleaze goes, the 1976 sin-street stag film and home invasion obscener “Man at the Door” is about as obscure and odd as it’s chaste title.  Yet, there’s not a lick of chaste about the beyond-the-canoodle content of X-rated exploitation and the only licking happening here is with the scores of cunnilingus with every new starlet entering from stage left.  The lower-rung adult film has plenty of action in the simplistic of narratives but much of this a film by John Ruyter production is left unknown to the universe with no identifying credits to properly give recognition for the cast’s improper behaviors, with the crew’s dedication to stagnancy yet consistent and staid presentation, and with the sordid studio behind what was likely an obvious low-budgeted blue movie featured only in the darkest, dankest, and stickiest cornered cinemas on the infamous 42nd Street for a measly buck-fifty to get your rocks off.

Where to start with the cast?  I couldn’t even tell you.  The three satisfying starlets, unpretentious with their set dress but heady in their roles, come under the thrusting hips of a two pedestrian, stud-less joes lucky enough to engage coitally with the fairer sex.  Out of the two male performers, the titular “Man at the Door” character could pass for a less-intimidating and skeezier Edmund Kemper in a wet-blanket flesh suit looking like a former military analyst fired for his inability to hack it and tried his luck at philistine porn.  Perhaps my attitude to the casted intruder is a bit harsh, unfair, and hypercritical of some historical schlub with average measurements and downgraded fanfare – I don’t even know the guy or even his name – but my sixth sense knows the type and his type fits the bill to a T, a balding, mid-to-late 30s, man whose onscreen personality is about as dry as an overtoasted piece of stale day-old bread.  However, with much of the triple-X industry, men don’t sell product, women do.  The three ladies gracing the screen outperform above expectations after scanning the undervalue pinning synopsis with their distinct, amongst themselves beauty, able to individualize their roles, and entice with their own energies to make a synergy-coupling during the girl-on-girl scenes.  One blonde and two brunettes even liven up the boy-girl scenes against dull male talent who’s supposed to be knife-wielding sex fiend, but the women wear that personality down, grinding it to a halt as they grind on against each other.  I apologize in the lack of cast detail for this mysterious sleaze, but the DVD also mentions the lack of credits and there’s nothing on the web to match against it, not even doing image search on the actors’ faces and so we’re left with nameless sensualists of the mid-70’s sex scene.

When reviewing porn, especially from the New Hollywood era of the 70s, I always have to remind myself substance and story are going to take a backseat to skin and sex.  That is what’s laid out in “Man at the Door,” a rudimentary home intruder gimmick to extract the ethical-swathed deviancy deep inside us with sexual assault, uninhibited perversions, and even a humiliation peeing scene for those urophilia fanatics who get off on distressed whizzing.  Humdrum performances from a rather unflattering and uncharismatic male lead fashions little enthusiasm and in atypical swanky retro-porn flair, expositional statements, such as Now I’m going to fuck you both, said in perfunctory banality that it takes the story’s wind out of the sails.  Though production studio is unidentified, “Man at the Door” has blueprint echoes of an Avon assembly that prominently reeled in profit by paraphilia with fetishisms and rough-sexual-play shot on 16mm that feels very similar to this John Rutyer film.  Perhaps, John Rutyer was another of Phil Prince’s pseudonyms and “Man at the door” was his trial-by-fire initiation into the Avon Dynasty.  We can’t prove but we do love to speculate!  Avon’s skeletal productions undress the glam of fantasy for more feral roughies and “Man at the Door” has, more-or-less, the same façade with a handful of natural, sparse sets, carelessly visited by the boom mic and a few wandering heads into frame, and so this mysterious adult roughie is about as unspectacular as the next, only finding its way into our physical media devices by the pure unadulterated grindhouse gravitational pull and our extreme curiosity for its archaic and, once considered, sub-rosa period compared to what is today an easily accessible porn industry.

If curious like me or have a knack for any and all types of film, “Man at the Door” can be an interesting minor blast from the past and Impulse Pictures, a subsidiary label of Synapse Films, has secured the relatively unknown and unheard of title for DVD distribution.  Presented in a pillar boxed full screen presentation, 1.33:1 aspect ratio,” size of the storage capacity won’t affect your viewing pleasure with every typification of a dog-eared 16mm print to please the grindhouse appreciators.  To be honest, the print is in relatively good shape with faint vertical scratches pretty much from start to finish, plenty of good grain, dust, dirt, and a pinch of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it frame damage.  Grading is on what I believe to a high-key color saturation because of the heavy fill lighting casting clear shadows onto the backwalls and so skin tones can look more orange than natural but for older celluloid, I’m quite pleased with the finished product look.  The audio is an English Dolby Digital 2.0 mono track.  The collapsed audio channeled through more than one speaker doesn’t amplify the weak dialogue track, likely root issued by inferior commercial equipment or bad boom placement.   The track also has plenty of crackle and pop amongst the constant shushing interference that essentially muffles and muddles the already feeble dialogue so you may not understand half of what is being said on what is more than likely barely a script or half a script for a hour-long porn feature.  Forget about depth and range with the limited setting and confined to the actors’ close vicinity.  There’s some hint of swank laced in the soundtrack that’s feels more like looped bossa nova than like rock or funky bubblegum pop.  There are no subtitles available.  Also not extensively available are special features in this barebones disc that has been set with chapters and a sneak peek at Impulse Pictures’ “42nd Street Forever: The Peep Show Collection” preview; however, I do adore Impulse’s new types of crude color-pencil illustrations on the front cover that roughly represents the narrative concept in what is a blend of childish drawn nightmares and erotic art.  Inside the common DVD amaray case is a Synapse Films product catalogue insert and a disc pressed with the same front cover image.  The region 1 locked playback disc is not rated, obviously, and has feature runtime of 60 minutes.  Impulse Pictures has paraded “Man at the Door” more than the film deserves but it’s a fine, old obscure romp film from the porn of yore now on a contemporary format and with odd-neat packaging.

X-rated and Exploitational “Man at the Door” on DVD!

The Gates Are Opening and The EVIL Wants to Squish Your Brains! “City of the Living Dead” reviewed! (Cauldron Films / 4K UHD – Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Cauldron Films’ “City of the Living Dead” on 4K and Blu-ray 3-disc Release!

In the Dunwich, a priest commits suicide by hanging himself in the Church’s graveyard.  In the same instance, a psychic based in New York City holds a séance where she witnesses the beginning of the gates of hell opening.  The order sends the psychic into sheer fright that nearly kills her.  A reporter digging deep into the near death of the young woman also buried alive and befriends the psychic, following his nose for a good lead despite its absurd sounding hoodooism of death apocalypse in less than 72 hours.  The psychic and reporter travel to the hard-to-find Dunwich town where the residents have been mysteriously vanishing or discovered dead of curious causes.   Baffled by all the strange occurrences is the town psychiatrist who witnesses first hand the troubles that stir fear into those close to him.  When the psychiatrist teams up with psychic and reporter, they must venture to the very depths of crypt Hell to close the gates and stop the dead for rising before All Saints Day.

The Godfather of Gore Lucio Fulci undoubtedly lives up to his title, establishing himself as one of Italy’s more profound and substantial horror filmmakers before his death in 1996.  “City of the Living Dead” came at the height of Fulci’s success after his breakout into the American market with “Zombie” or “Zombi 2,” an unofficial sequel to George A. Romero’s superb “Dawn of the Dead.”  Yet, Fulci didn’t follow suit with “Dawn’s” social commentary and pale-faced flesh eaters; instead, the writer-director stemmed his undead creatures from black magic hoodooism set in the sunny and sandy Caribbean islands with just as much visceral violence as his inspiring mostly Pittsburgh-based counterpart.  Alternatively known as “The Gates of Hell,” the Italian production of “City of the Living Dead” remains set in the U.S., filmed in New York and the surrounding metropolitan northeast, as the first part of the Gates of Hell trilogy that coincided with “The Beyond” and “The House by the Cemetery,” both of which were released approx. a year later.  “City of the Living Dead” is a Dania Film, Medusa Distribuzione, and National Cinematografica production with Fulci producing as well as the American Robert E. Warner (“Return of the Swamp Thing”) as executive producer.

A medley of nationalities make up “City of the Living Dead’s” who either are or are playing American characters.  Comprised mostly of Italian actors Antonella Interlenghi (“Yeti: Giant of the 20th Century”) as one of the first doomed Dunwich victims, Michele Soavi (director of “The Church”) as a canoodler with his brains being squished, Daniela Doria (“New York Riper”) as the other canoodler having her innards become outers, Fabrizio Jovine (“The Psychic”) as the hung priest who started all this mess and as the harbinger of the living dead, and Carlo de Mejo (“Women’s Prison Massacre”) in the psychiatric lead.  There’s an abundancy of diverse Italian flavor that definitely grounds “City of the Living Dead” as an Italian production, but a minor chunk of the cast are Americans with co-principal Christopher George (“Graduation Day,” “Pieces”) as a rakish NYC reporter forcing his way into a minor lead turned major forthcoming day of reckoning and Robert Sampson (“Re-Animator”) in a minor law enforcement role that bears little significance.  Sprinkled in the cast is also the Swedish-born-turned-Italian actress Janet Argen (“Eaten Alive”) as the psychiatrist patient and UK actress Catriona MacColl rounding out the principal cohort as the psychic.  MacColl is the only actress to have a role in all three of Fulci’s Beyond the Gates films, playing different characters in each.  Between Christopher George’s skeptic playfulness, Janet Argen’s uncontrollable hysterics, and in the unmalleable wrought shock of fear, the sundry cast doesn’t hinder the performances that mesh well under the greater air of portent and the hours leading up to end of days.  Giovanni Lombardo Radice (“Cannibal Ferox”), Luca Venantini (“The Exterminators of the Year 3000”), Adelaide Aste, Venantino Venantini (“Cannibal Ferox”), Robert Spafford, James Edward Sampson (“StageFright”), Perry Pirkanen (“Cannibal Holocaust”), Michael Gaunt (“Forced Entry 2”), and filmmakers Robert E. Warner and Lucio Fulci costar.

Through an unexplained mysticism and preformed stipulations on why the priest was the be all end all gatekeeper to the dead’s awakening on Earth other than Dunwich was original built upon the ruins of a witch-burning Salem, Massachusetts or why the day after the unmentioned Halloween season (likely because Italians do not celebrate Halloween with an abundance of candy and custome), All Saints Day, becomes the zero hour date when clearly the dead are already fatally impacting lives in the corporeal realm, Lucio Fulci masterful magician qualities diverts attention away from seemingly crucial elements of the plot toward a complete and total elemental atmosphere of fear, using eerie fog, whipping wind, and phantasmagoria imagery of the macabre to implant chthonic horror slowly rising above ground.  Makeup artist Franco Rufini recesses the sight sockets with deep, infraorbital darkening under the eyes in stark contrast with the pale shade skin, creating that classic yet effective zombified corpse casing in conjunction with special effects artists Gino de Rossi (“Burial Ground:  The Nights of Terror,” “Cannibal Ferox”) use of ground raw meat or whatever the gushy material used to construct the cerebrum contents that just squishes to a pulp between the fingers of the undead when they grab a fist full of hair, skin, and brains from behind an unlucky left living.  There’s quite nothing like a Lucio Fulci film where the ghouls knock on the door from the other side, threatening the land of the living, the world even, with a sound and steady ghoulish malevolence and death in a well-lit and framed Fulci-scope to hammer down defined purpose that drives a penetrating stake through the chest bone and into a chilled soul.

“City of the Living Dead” goes beyond the format gates and arrives onto a 3-disc 4K/Blu-ray release from Cauldron Films.  2160p Dolby Vision 4K and a 1080p AVC encoded high-definition options really put this Fulci classic back on the map, unlike the small, forsaken city of Dunwich. The 4K UHD is an HEVC encoded, 2160p Dolby Vision ultra high-definition resolution while the AVC encoded Blu-ray sports 1080p high-definition, presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Through the translucent mist of natural, good-looking grain, Cauldron Films have hyper-accentuated the atmospherics with a clean rendering of the innate cooler-to-warner photography grades of blue-to-yellow with creating a harsh contrast transition. The encoding never shows an ounce of detail distress to keep textured and palpable image of the darkened crypt or the thick fog exteriors that often would degrade decoding with omitted data. The Cauldron Films release retains and sustains bitrate that fastens the dark levels to a robust and effective pitch black. What’s neat about this release is the ability to toggle between the English DTS-HD 2.0 Mono and the Italian DTS-HD 2.0 mono, both post-recorded in standard with Italian productions. Both tracks are comprehensibly sound with a clear and clean dubbing with the only detailed differences being one in English language and the other in Italian and the title card switched out for the each. Between the two, range is exact on both with not a lot of superfluous ambient sound and both tracks offer a near blemish free experience in a robust context of atmosphere. Disc 1 and 2, 4K UHD and Blu-ray respectively, come with new audio commentaries, including with cult film critic Samm Deighan, author of Italian horror cinema Troy Howarth and film critic Nathaniel Thompson, as well as individual archival commentaries with actors Catriona MacColl and Giovanni Lombardo Radice. Disc 3 includes an interview with production Massimo Antonello Geleng, actor Giovanni Lombardo Radice, and on-stage Q&A with Venantino Venantini and Ruggero Deodata (“Cannibal Holocaust”), a Q&A with Catriona MacColl, a Q&A with composer Fabio Frizzi, interviews with special effects artist Gino de Rossi and principal actor Carlo de Mejo, A Trip Through Bonaventure Cemetary – an explorational and historical account on the main cemetery where the priest in the film hangs himself, trailers, an image gallery, and other archival interviews in a near feature-length collection of conversations with cast and crew reminiscing about Lucio Fulci during filming. The 4K UHD and third disc packed with special features are region free while the Blu-ray remains region A locked in licensed playback on the format. Both features have a runtime of 93 minutes and the release is unrated. Emerging from the gates of standard definition hell, Cauldron Films tempers Lucio Fulci’s “City of the Living Dead” to a foreboding crust, burgeoning with ominous clout the undead’s underscoring resurrection.

Cauldron Films’ “City of the Living Dead” on 4K and Blu-ray 3-disc Release!

Sucked Into Hell. Surrounded By EVIL! “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” reviewed! (Visual Vengeance / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Hell Wants You To Stay for Dinner!  “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” on Blu-ray!

Ivan and his hard-nose partner Harry work between the shadows as protectors of the Earth realm.  The pair of paranormal guardians battle demons attempting to sneak from the Netherworld for more domain and power in the human world.  After thwarting a demon’s reneging plans with a wealthy businessman, they find themselves sucked into a portal to Hell after a group of young partygoers become lost and inadvertently crossover everyone in the abandoned warehouse to the underworld, including the warehouse itself.  Confined to a room with the portal opening, they must band together to survive the night where gnarly demons roam behind every door and are master tricksters with one goal in mind – to breed human women with half-breed demons to procreate more of Hell’s minions.  Its up to Ivan and Harry to see the survivors through until dawn but not everyone is who they seem and when the masks are dropped, real Hell will pounce upon them.  

The northeastern American horror-comedy, “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” is the topsy-turvy and totally-transcendental SOV feature from first-time writer-director Kevin J. Lindenmuth (“Twisted Tales,” “Monsterdocom”).  Shot primarily in Cherry Hill, New Jersey with some exterior city shots of New York City, the film alternatively known as “Hell’s Belles” sought ambitious Hell below Earth undertakings, creating a maze-like dwelling for disfigured dwellers of the demonic kind, and a down-the-rabbit hole story where the head-lopping queen is actually the devil in a leatherjacket playing procreator matchmaker and the Cheshire Cat is a overgrown rat looking to nibble on human flesh rather than cheese.  The rat, as ostentatiously cool as it sound, is simply a slither of one of “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” few themes, which is fear.  Kevin J. Lindenmuth’s production Brimstone Media Productions serves as the studio and Lindenmuth serves as sole producer of his self-funded venture into the vile mouth of the demon world.

“Vampires and Other Stereotypes” follows two difference groups related to the existence of Hell, the demons that inhabit it, and the rogue demons splicing themselves into the human world. One group is the guardians Ivan (Billy White) and Harry (Ed Hubbard) who are very much aware of the esoteric magnitude of the abysmal situation and background while the other group, young Generation X’ers oblivious to the signs of Satan’s underworld seeping into their own. Lead by serial-dater and college girl Kirsten (Wendy Bednarz, “There’s Nothing Out There”) and her two tagalong best friends Linda (Anna Dipace) and Jennifer (Suzanne Scott, “Child of the Sabbat), the ready-to-party trio provide the state of affairs with Kirsten’s nonchalant taste in bad boy boyfriends, believing her courting apathy, treated as an impulse indulgence for the sake of fun, will one day run her out of luck. Enter Erik (Mike McCleery, “Deep Undead”), another misfit miscreant unearthed by Kirsten in her ever unquenching need to be wined, dined, and spoiled by the bottom layers of the dating pool. The two parties clash walking into the epicenter of an open investigation, denoted by an aperture in the middle of the room, where dead, decapitated bodies are strong upside down and Kirsten and her businessman father (Rick Poli, “Blitzkrieg: Escape from Stalag 69) are unexpectedly reunited in an air of something more happening behind the scenes other than Kirsten’s father’s flailing dealings with the demons and Erik’s party-sniffing nose leading them to astray and lost. The rest of the cast comes together with Laura Vale as Rosa the psychic, Monica Batavanis as the wife lost to the dark side, Mike Memphis as the Elvis impersonator, Bean Miller as the Lizard King aka Jim Morrison impersonator, and Sally Narkis as the demon waitress.

Lindenmuth’s dragged to Hell premise is a neat enough concept to peak the interests of the casual and diehard horror fan. However, the executed result is a whole other animal that tends to claw back, trying to maul away your viewership.  The special effects Scotts – Scott Hart and Scott Sliger – pull off practical prosthetics and latex with some side curb appeal that helps lift up “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” as best as possible, but the effects have a difficult time keeping up with the film’s innate ambitious concept to where much of the story relies on character exposition to fill in the gaps and where I note the exposition has a few cracks and leaks in themselves is in the very first word you see in the title that sets the expectation right off the bat before going far into a narrative that constantly and hurriedly builds upon the demonic construct.  That edifice evolves so high and so quick that the air becomes thin when the very first presence of a vampire insert comes late into the third act.  You nearly forget that the word Vampire was ever in the title.  Where Lindenmuth succeeds in this frenzy of fiends and folly is passively providing verbal cues of one of the character’s monotone-delivered pangs of extreme hunger.  Being a New Yorker and a rather large individual, you believe a NYC pizza or a greasy burger would be in mind here to feed the need but then the gag drops with well-timed revelation albeit the severe tardiness inside the narrative framework that suggests maybe the title should have been reworked or better thought through to really add upon that element of surprise and not sit waiting and waiting until bloodsuckers join the jittery jamboree.  While the demons are jovially wicked, their wily ways are playful to a fault compared to an “Evil Dead” Kandarian demon or a twisted and ugly demon from “Night of the Demons,” a class of demons that craft a special kind of deviance that maniacally fun as they rip you to shreds.  Not to say the “Vampires and other Stereotypes” demons are painfully dull or too good to be terrible, quite the opposite in the variety of severed head yappers or an oversized rodent, but they don’t offer that same fear-inducing merriment of playing with their food before they eat it. 

The 12th release on the Visual Vengeance line of dusted off sidelined SOV horror and cult films with a brand-new Blu-ray release with an AVC encoded, 1080p (note: off the original standard definition master 1-inch tape), BD50 presented in the original pillarbox of a 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Visual Vengeance provides the usual prefatory statement about the using the best possible elements out of consumer grade equipment, but I do think “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” has the best details within the Betacam SP camcorder, which was, at the time, the crème de la crème of videotape, and then have the video run through a millimeter gauge emulator to give it a 16, or even stretched to a 35 mm, appearance at times. Tullio Tedeschi cinematography is soft, light, and dreamy that forsakes stark details but does offer a sheen along the surfaces and textures that size up and adds to depth to the objects, even more so with the film’s hard lighting and deep shadows to provide a diversion away from the cheap sets but also a diversion away from what could be lurking from the horror-set tropes. The English language stereo 2.0 has decent dynamism between the dialogue, ambience, and soundtrack. Dialogue has a voice above the other sublayers, separating its prominence in front of the batty surroundings of a demon-riddled rodeo and against a soundtrack, or lack thereof, that’s repetitively uninspiring to takes away from the spirt of the level Lindenmuth attempts to reach with his debut. Optional subtitles are available. Special features include three new audio commentaries with director Kevin Lindenmuth, actor Mike McCleery and Lindenmuth, and Weng’s Chop Magazine’s Tony Strauss. Also included are new, brief interviews with Lindenmuth on the technical tangents of his film, actress Laura McLauchlin surrounding her role as Rosa and various recollection of principal photography, actor Mike McCleery as bad boy Erik fitting into his skintight, nonbreathable demon mask and having a good time on set overall, Suzanne Turner on playing Jennifer, Sally Narkis in her brief role as demon waitress and her sidetracking fashion career, and plus interviews with makeup effects artist Ralis Kahn, special effects artist Scott Sliger, photographer Sung Pak, and publicist Joe Mauceri with behind-the-scenes image gallery, original trailer, Visual Vengeance trailers, and Lindenmuth early Super 8 films along with commentary by the director. As always, the physical presentation is nothing short of a thing of pure beauty with a rigid slipcover graced with new illustration by Tom “The Dude Designs’ Hodge with a traditionally sized clear Blu-ray amaray case with reversible front cover that includes more new looming demon heads art and the original one-sheet on the reverse side that really relates to the dreaminess of the photography. In the insert pocket is stuffed a color trifold essay from Tony Strauss with behind-the-scene stills, a folded mini poster of the Blu-ray case cover art, and retro VHS stickers. Disc art is pressed with the slipcover art. Region free for the world to see, the Blu=ray is unrated and has a 87 minutes. Nominal and ambitious, “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” fights an uphill battle coming off the heels of an extremely gorified video nasties of the 1980s, but Lindenmuth fulfills with an indiscriminate spread of insanity at every turn with some vivid and vibrant vanward effects to drive this one home to the great people at Visual Vengeance, a boutique distributor of lost, but not forgotten, SOV buried treasure ready to be rediscovered.

Hell Wants You To Stay for Dinner!  “Vampires and Other Stereotypes” on Blu-ray!