WRESTLING WOMEN VS. THE KILLER ROBOT (1969) ****

Gaby (Regina Torne) is the reigning lady wrestling champion of Mexico. Her uncle gets kidnapped by a mad scientist named Dr. Orlak (Carlos Agosti) who wants him to perfect a mind-control device that will turn ordinary people into “human robots”.  When her uncle refuses, Dr. Orlak has him killed by his badass robot henchman.  (He looks like a cross between Pizza the Hut’s sidekick in Spaceballs and Blade from Puppet Master.)  Dr. Orlak also keeps an ugly mutant named Carfax (Gerardo Zepeda) locked up in cellar.  He’s one of the doctor’s failed experiments who likes to kill nurses.  After her uncle’s body is discovered, Gaby vows to put a stop to Orlak’s plans once and for all.  Just when you think you’ve seen the last of the mad Dr. Orlak, he puts the brain of Carfax into a wrestling woman and turns her into a human robot named Elektra who challenges Gaby for the title! 

Wrestling Women vs. the Killer Robot was directed by the great Rene Cardona, who also made the very similar Night of the Bloody Apes that same year.  (Zepeda essentially played the same role in that film.)  Apparently, there was also a “hot” version of the movie called Sex Monsters, which supposedly had sex and gore inserted into the picture, a la Apes.  Unfortunately, that version is presumed to be lost.  Even without the sexy and gory inserts, Wrestling Women vs. the Killer Robot is one of the finest hours in the history of Mexican Wrestling cinema.

I mean how can you not love a movie that involves sexy wrestling women in formfitting spandex throwing each other around a ring while a robot dressed like an ‘80s music video version of a ‘30s gangster busts through I don’t know how many balsa wood doors, as horny caged human freaks assault sexy nurses?  Also, one thing just occurred to me.  The mutant is named Carfax and our heroine is named Gaby.  That is so almost a Dracula reference. 

Some may take issue that the wrestling scenes are for the most part, completely random.  Some may also note that they aren’t up to the grappling standards of an El Santo picture.  I say they are some damned fine examples of Lucha Libre, mostly because the women in this movie are hot (especially the vivacious Torne).  Whatever these scenes lack in wrestling expertise, they more than make up for in the eye candy department.

The dialogue is pretty great too.  There are so many terrific lines and quips throughout the film.  However, I think my favorite line came when Gaby professes her love of Lucha Libre, and her uncle retorts, “You should try a safer sport… like marriage!”

AKA:  Sex Monsters.  AKA:  Wrestling Women vs. the Murderous Robot.  AKA:  Sex and the Mad Killer.

MIL MASCARAS (1969) ***

 

A group of world leaders raise a young boy to be an undefeatable champion of justice.  When he grows to be a man, he dons a Lucha Libre mask and becomes Mil Mascaras.  Working from intel provided to him by his mysterious benefactors, Mil sets out to smash a crime syndicate bent on world domination. 

Unlike El Santo, who never really had much of a backstory in his movies, Mil Mascaras devotes nearly an entire reel to his origin story.  If you can stomach the ill-fitting stock footage left over from WWII, the scene where the baby Mil is discovered in the bombed-out wreckage of a dilapidated building is quite effective.  I also liked the training montage of Mil growing into adulthood as he learns to sharpen not only his physical attributes, but his mind as well.  (There’s even a brief shot of him working in a mad scientist lab!)

Speaking of getting physical, Mil is a lot of fun to watch in his wrestling scenes.  He is quick on his feet, does a handful of flashy moves, and has a commanding presence in and out of the ring.  The film is likewise fast-paced and contains a number of action sequences and fight scenes to keep you entertained.

Another way this picture is a little different than say, the works of El Santo is the music.  In most Lucha Libre movies, the music sequences are akin to easy listening and/or traditional folk music.  Mil Mascaras features wall-to-wall rock n’ roll.  The scenes set in a rock n’ roll club where a bunch of teenagers twist the night away have a lot of energy, and the big musical number (sung by a girl who looks like Twiggy) will get your toes tapping.  The musical score, though repetitive, is catchy too, and gives the assorted fight scenes an added flair. 

In short, this is another top-notch Mexican wrestling movie.  Based on the evidence here (as well as the El Santo films I’ve seen in which Mil had supporting roles), I’m going to have to add the Mil Mascaras series to my ever-growing pile of must-see Mexican wrestling franchises.  In these troubled times, the genre has offered me a lot of comfort and strength.  I often ask myself why I am so drawn to them.  I think I know the answer now.  It’s because the Luchadores of Mexican Cinema harken back to a simpler time.  They stand for truth, justice, and the Mexican way.  Plus, unlike a lot of people in this country, they know how to wear a damn mask.

ANGELS’ WILD WOMEN (1972) **

(ARCHIVE REVIEW:  ORIGINALLY POSTED:  APRIL 28^TH, 2010)

Angels’ Wild Women came about when director Al Adamson added new spicy footage to an unreleased biker film.  The new scenes of bosomy women kicking ass are pretty cool and play like an Adamson version of a Russ Meyer movie.  However, all the stuff involving the bikers is boring as Hell.

Speed (Ross Hagen, no stranger to biker movies after The Sidehackers and The Hellcats) is the leader of a biker gang that spends most of his time balling his old lady and riding his motorcycle.  The gang spends a weekend at a commune headed by a weirdo hippie cult leader who is secretly growing pot.  When word gets out about the operation, he sacrifices Speed’s girlfriend.  That of course sends Speed into a frenzy and he sets out to get revenge on that dirty hippie scumbag.

A lot of Angels’ Wild Women is just plain stupid, but it has a handful of memorable scenes containing highly quotable dialogue that makes it stand out from most of the titles in the Adamson filmography.  Like the scene when a couple of rednecks rape a black biker chick then her tough gal pals show up to get revenge.  One chick distracts the guy by popping her top and says, “Do you want to see some boobies?” before kneeing him in the nuts.  Then there’s a great scene where the biker broads hold down a studly farmhand and force him to fuck.  He protests, “Poontang is poontang, but these sex orgies just ain’t natural!” but eventually gives in and bangs them.  The finale is also pretty WTF.  Hagen drives his motorcycle off a cliff, and it lands on the roof of the bad guy’s car, causing an inexplicable explosion.

Although most flicks need a straightforward story to keep your attention, Angels’ Wild Women’s loose-as-a-goose plotting is one of its strong suits.  Stuff just sorta happens at random in this movie.  First the Angels are fighting, then they’re riding their hogs, then they’re fucking, then they’re battling a third-rate Manson knockoff. 

Unfortunately, the film also contains more than its fair share of dull patches.  Too many in fact to give it a wholehearted recommendation.  Still, Two Stars for an Adamson flick is like Three Stars for most directors, so if you have a high tolerance for Al’s oeuvre, then you should probably check it out.

 

NEW REVIEW:  ANGELS’ WILD WOMEN  (1972)  **

My old review pretty much summed up my thoughts on Al Adamson’s Angels’ Wild Women.  My only real addition is the fact that so much of the movie was filmed at Spahn’s Movie Ranch.  Adamson had filmed several films there over the years, but this is the first time I think he started to meld his own legend into his pictures.  It was at Spahn’s Ranch where his frequent star Gary Kent (who also has a small role in this one) had his run-in with Charles Manson, which later became the genesis of Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.  In this one, the heroines confront a Manson-like cult leader who has taken over the ranch for his own devious purposes.  Adamson and company had exploited Manson before (most egregiously in the marketing for Satan’s Sadists), but this is the first time they put a not-so thinly veiled version of him on screen. 

As for the movie itself, it feels no less cobbled together than any other of Adamson’s films I’ve watched this month.  The stuff with the wild women tormenting men and/or using them for sex are easily the best.  The stuff with biker Ross Hagen (who is saddled with a terrible haircut) is notably less involving. 

All this kind of flows decently enough in the early going.  The aforementioned “Do you want to see some boobies?” and “Poontang is Poontang!” scenes are a hoot.  These scenes, along with healthy doses of nudity, help to keep Angels’ Wild Women in the better-than-average range as far as Adamson’s films go.  However, once the action switches over to the ranch and the Manson-like cult leader begins to take over the narrative, the fun begins to dwindle.

AKA:  Commune of Death.  AKA:  Rough Riders.  AKA:  Screaming Eagles.  AKA:  Screaming Angels.  AKA:  Wild Women.

DRACULA VS. FRANKENSTEIN (1971) ***

(ARCHIVE REVIEW:  ORIGINALLY POSTED:  JULY 17^th, 2007)

Dracula (Zandor Vorkov, who has an echoy voice and a disintegrating ring) digs up the Frankenstein monster and gets the good doctor (J. Carroll Naish), who runs an amusement park (complete with a house of horrors), to revive it.  Lon Chaney, Jr. is his mute assistant who decapitates girls with an axe and Angelo (The Corpse Vanishes) Rossitto is the midget ticket taker who says, “In order to see, you must open your eyes!” 

Director Al Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol plays a Vegas showgirl who teams up with philosophical hippie Anthony Eisley to find her missing sister.  When they stumble into his lab, Frankenstein tries to turn them into his next experiment.  When they escape, Rossitto falls on an axe, Chaney gets shot, and Naish gets inadvertently gets decapitated!  Dracula then kidnaps Carrol and disintegrates Eisley with his ring.  He wants to turn her into his vampire bride, but the monster has the hots for her too.  The monsters fight (of course it had to be over a woman, right?) in Drac’s backyard and The Count pulls the monster apart limb from limb, but the sun comes out and he crumbles to dust! 

This is probably Adamson’s best-known movie and it’s pretty entertaining too.  Whenever the monsters are onscreen it’s a lot of fun.  However, the hippies, stock footage of protests (“What are we protesting today?”), and slang date it unmercifully.  Co-starring Russ (West Side Story) Tamblyn as a biker rapist, future director Greydon Clark as a hippie and Famous Monsters creator Forrest J. Ackerman as a victim (he was also a consultant).  There’s also a cool credit sequence and good music by Bill Lava, but the familiar Creature from the Black Lagoon music is used for the final reel.  Not to be confused with the Paul Naschy movie Dracula vs. Frankenstein from the previous year.

 

NEW REVIEW:  DRACULA VS. FRANKENSTEIN  (1971)  ***

After sitting through thirteen Al Adamson movies this month, I think it’s safe to say Dracula vs. Frankenstein is his masterpiece.  It has all the hallmarks of his best (and worst) stuff.  There are parallel narratives that feel like they came out of two entirely different movies, confusing editing, shoddy make-up, and a cast full of his usual stock players, including his wife, Regina Carrol.  Sure, it’s just as patched together as most of his work, but there are some downright memorably WTF passages here that will make any lover of B cinema stand up and take notice. 

The first ten minutes alone rank as some sort of minor classic.  After an awesome title sequence, Dracula (Zandor Vorkov) digs up the Frankenstein monster (John Bloom), then a carnival barker (Angelo Rossitto) leads a couple of hippies through a haunted house owned by Dr. Frankenstein (J. Carroll Naish), before Frankenstein’s mute assistant (Lon Chaney, Jr.) goes on an axe murdering spree, chopping off a woman’s head.  The showstopper though is Regina Carrol’s Vegas song and dance number about packing too many things in her suitcases, which enrages her wimpy back-up dancers who can’t carry it all.  Incredible. 

Things start to get erratic once Russ Tamblyn enters the picture.  In fact, all the biker shit in the movie feels out of place with the monster plotline.  However, this does lead up to a great scene where he doses Carrol with acid, and she has a big freak-out sequence in which she imagines herself on a giant spider web.  Even Salvador Dali himself would get a kick out of this scene.

I think I should also mention that Kenneth Strickfaden loaned the production his lab equipment from the original 1931 Frankenstein.  Everyone made a big deal when Mel Brooks used it in Young Frankenstein, but Al Adamson did it three years before him.  Adamson also used some equipment from Horror of the Blood Monsters for variety’s sake, I suppose. 

AKA:  Revenge of Dracula.  AKA:  Blood of Frankenstein.  AKA:  They’re Coming to Get You.  AKA:  Teenage Dracula.

BRAIN OF BLOOD (1971) ** ½

 

(ARCHIVE REVIEW:  ORIGINALLY POSTED  JAN. 14^th, 2008)

Eddie Romero’s shot-in-the-Philippines “Blood Island” trilogy made a buck for somebody back in the USA during the late ‘60s, so the producers wanted another film for the franchise.  They were too cheap to go back to the Philippines to film it, so instead they hired director Al (Blood of Dracula’s Castle) Adamson to helm it in his own backyard for $12.  The results are somewhat of a mess, but it’s still one of Adamson’s best movies. 

A dictator of a fictional country (Reed Hadley) dies and his sons (The Incredible Shrinking Man’s Grant Williams and Zandor Vorkov) hire a mad scientist (Kent Taylor from The Mighty Gorga) to perform an illicit brain transplant to save his life.  The first step is naturally to wrap his corpse head to toe in aluminum foil like a baked potato; then Taylor sends out his hideously deformed assistant Gor (John Bloom) to get a (unwilling) donor body.  After Gor drops his potential patient from a fire escape and fractures his neck, Taylor decides to put the dictator’s brain into Gor’s body, which complicates things with his fiancée (Regina Carrol, the director’s wife).  There’s also a subplot involving Taylor’s midget assistant (played by who else, Angelo Rossitto) who keeps women chained up in the basement, a great flashback where a bunch of rednecks pour battery acid on Gor’s face, and some pretty memorable and messy brain surgery scenes. 

Taylor is pretty great as the demented doctor (he was in SIX Adamson movies altogether), but the rest of the cast (most of whom appeared in Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein) is uneven to say the least.  I guess that’s to be expected when you cast your wife and friends in your movie instead of experienced actors.  The goofy premise and funky performances will keep you snickering, but it’s Gor’s get-up that receives the most laughs.  The make-up is positively awful and he resembles a close cousin of the monster from The Brain That Wouldn’t Die; and just like that monster, you can see the actor’s hair showing through the bald cap. 

Brain of Blood loses points for its slapdash storytelling and erratic editing, but ironically, it’s one of Adamson’s more coherent efforts.  It moves along at a steady pace, and if you have a high tolerance for Adamson’s ineptitude, you’ll probably find yourself in Bad Movie Heaven. 

AKA:  Brain Damage.  AKA:  The Brain.  AKA:  The Creature’s Revenge.  AKA:  The Oozing Skull.  AKA:  The Undying Brain.

 

NEW REVIEW:

BRAIN OF BLOOD  (1971)  ** ½

After re-watching Brain of Blood, I reread this old review and realized it pretty much already summed up my thoughts on this one.  Because of that, I don’t really have a whole lot to add.  One thing I did notice this time around is that I liked the brain surgery scenes even more.  They’re gory, gooey, and ludicrously drawn out.  Unfortunately, the rest of the movie is drawn out too, just not in a good way.  On this viewing, the assorted subplots, including the stuff with the chained women in the dungeon, Gor’s backstory, and the political maneuverings associated with the surgery went over like a lead balloon.  Things eventually pick up in the third act, just not enough to put it over into *** territory.  Still, the heights are just high enough to rank this as the best movie on the box set so far. 

Also, the performances are among the best found in any Al Adamson film.  Williams makes for an appealing lead, Rossitto is a lot of fun to watch, and Carrol shows she’s a little more than just “the director’s girlfriend” (as I callously referred to her twelve years ago).  The movie really belongs to Kent Taylor as the demented doctor.  No matter the film’s flaws, whenever he’s on screen chewing the scenery, Brain of Blood is a ghoulish delight.

Another note worth mentioning is that the transfers on the box set have been gorgeous from top to bottom.  Sure, many of the elements for some of the movies were damaged beyond repair, but the care in which Severin was able to pick up the pieces and put them back together (especially on The Female Bunch) has been nothing less than stellar.  They really outdid themselves on Brain of Blood as the picture has never looked better.  Even though it’s nearly fifty years old, there are some scenes that look like they could’ve been filmed yesterday.  The gory operation scenes particularly pop, with every drizzle of blood and pulsating brain tissue looking as fresh as the day they were created.

THE FEMALE BUNCH (1971) **

Sandy (Nesa Renet) is a cocktail waitress who falls head over heels for a Las Vegas entertainer (Don Epperson, who also sings a couple of OK tunes).  When he breaks things off with Sandy, her gal pal Libby (Regina Carrol) invites her to join her all-girl gang.  Together, the wild women live on a ranch where farmhand Monti (Lon Chaney, Jr.) is the only man allowed on the premises.  Their leader, Grace (Jennifer Bishop) is a man-hating badass who occasionally makes runs across the border to Mexico to buy smack.  It doesn’t take long before a man (Russ Tamblyn) sneaks onto the ranch for a little action and gets a taste of Grace’s fury.

While the premise seems sturdy enough, The Female Bunch is mostly a mess.  The title makes it seem like it’s going to be sort of like an all-female version of The Wild Bunch, but’s it’s more like a western variation on a biker gang movie in that the girl gang rides around on horses instead of motorcycles.  Parts are dull, and yet, some scenes have a bit of a kick to them.  I liked the gang initiation scene where the new girls are buried alive in a coffin.  I also dug the part where Tamblyn gets busted by Bishop, which leads to a not-bad branding sequence.  There’s also a death scene involving a pitchfork that’s surprisingly well done. 

Most of the scenes though go on far too long and suffer from erratic editing.  Even worse, just about every scene transition is awkward at best, or downright amateurish at worst.  None of it flows together very well, which makes for a frustrating experience.  The film also contains some of the worst ADR I have ever heard, with some dialogue being spoken while the actors’ mouths are completely closed (and sometimes spoken by an entirely different person).  I guess you can attribute that to the fact that director Al Adamson was fired during production and replaced by John “Bud” Cardos (who also has a small role as a Mexican farmer who is terrorized by the girl gang), but the editing is pretty rough, even by both men’s standards.

It’s also sad to see Chaney floundering around in his final filmed performance.  His voice is hoarse, his face is flushed, and his eyes are watery.  I have a feeling that the bottle of booze he swigs from wasn’t a prop. 

The women in the cast are easy on the eyes, which helps somewhat.  Bishop has a commanding screen presence, and Lesley McCrea, Sharon Wynters, and Carol are fun to watch… whenever the editing allows for such things.  There’s also just enough nudity (some of which comes courtesy of body doubles) to act as an olive branch to keep you from hating it too much. 

VHS DELIRIUM (2018) ***

 

VHS Delirium is a feature-length bonus feature on Drive-In Delirium:  The New Batch.  It’s a ninety-minute collection of trailers ripped from ‘80s VHS releases.  Since there are more VHS Delirium compilations on other Drive-In Delirium Blu-Rays, I figured I would review them separately as their own entity. 

This initial offering includes Christiane F., Live a Little Steal a Lot, Sisters, Starflight One, Fake Out, High Road to China, They Call Me Bruce, Fritz the Cat, Hostage, Great Scout and Cathouse Thursday, Yellowbeard, Jaguar Lives, Survive!, The Lonely Lady, Split Image, Zulu Dawn, Kill and Kill Again, The Last Hunter, Flesh for Frankenstein, Blood for Dracula, House by the Cemetery, Get Crazy, Threshold, Brainwaves, Never Say Never Again, 21 Hours at Munich, Count Yorga Vampire, Chrome and Hot Leather, High Ballin’, Stone Cold Dead, The Cold Room, Empire of the Ants, The Return, Young Doctors in Love, Melvin Son of Alvin, Scanners, The Philadelphia Experiment, Defiance, The Fifth Floor, Jennifer, Secrets of the Phantom Caverns, Kill Squad, Savage Islands, Battletruck, Cannonball, Cannonball Run 2, Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Rutles, Cloud Dancer, Hysterical, Roadhouse 66, 1984, Lassiter, Losin’ It, The Key, Bedside Headmaster, Julia, Pursuit of D.B. Cooper, Condorman, Scarred, Seven, and Flight 90.  The best part is the last few trailers, all of which are accompanied by a little picture of the video box and the price tag for each video.  So, if you always wanted to know what a videocassette of Angel, Dominque, The Day After, Exterminators of the Year 3000, or Cross Country would cost back in the day, here’s your answer.

Another neat touch is that nearly all the trailers have little intros by a suave-voiced Australian announcer accompanied by a cheesy onscreen title.  While some trailers are full length, many are severely truncated versions, about the length of a TV spot.  I kind of wish there had been a little more curation involved as there’s no real rhyme or reason to how the trailers are presented (although we do get a pair of Larry Cohen movies, Full Moon High and Q the Winged Serpent presented back to back), but then again, that’s how they usually appeared on those old VHS tapes, so it kind of makes sense.

Some of my favorites are for Breathless, Yor the Hunter from the Future, Caligula (“Is it art, or is it PORNOGRAPHY?”), An American Werewolf in London (which is much better than the ho-hum trailer featured on The New Batch), Alligator, Cujo (another trailer that’s better than the one found elsewhere on the disc), Inseminoid, Insatiable, When a Stranger Calls (which contains footage of audience reactions in the theater), and the Brooke Shields pinball movie, Tilt.  While I enjoyed this quite a bit, it’s easy to see why it was presented as a bonus feature and not given a separate release as it’s kind of all over the place, genre-wise.  Still, being the sucker for trailer compilations that I am, I had a lot of fun with it, and I look forward to checking out future VHS Delirium releases.

DRIVE-IN DELIRIUM: THE NEW BATCH (2018) *** ½

 

The Drive-In Delirium series is quickly becoming one of my favorite trailer compilation franchises of all time.  This third collection of previews only strengthens my convictions.  Fans of exploitation, sci-fi, and (especially) horror are guaranteed to love it. 

This time out, the running time clocks in at a whopping six hours and change.  That’s a little daunting for any jaded, dyed-in-the-wool trailer compilation fan.  However, if you break it up over a few evenings you’ll get the most mileage out of it.  It’s even split into two parts, “The Quickening” and “The Spawning”, which helps.

The Quickening is easily the weaker half.  Despite that, we still get a wealth of great trailers.  There are previews for movies starring Richard Jaeckel (The Green Slime, Chosen Survivors, The Dark), Martin Landau (Meteor, It Came Without Warning, They Call Me Mr. Tibbs), and Charles Bronson (The Stone Killer, 10 to Midnight, Death Wish 3, Death Hunt).  It’s just as fun though seeing trailers for obscure-o flicks like Swordkill, Savage Attraction, and Fair Game. 

Unfortunately, there are some ill-fitting trailers that seem like they came out of another collection.  The trailers for such highbrow entertainment as Gorky Park, Eyes of Laura Mars, and Last Tango in Paris feel especially out of place.  Plus, too many comedy trailers (The Pink Panther Strikes Again, High Anxiety, The Nude Bomb) kind of gum up the works as The Quickening is nearing its conclusion. 

Although things sort of putter out near the end of the first half, the intermission that bridges the two sections is a real humdinger.  It’s a ‘70s anti-smoking PSA starring none other than C-3PO and R2-D2!  After that, the compilation really hits its stride with “The Spawning” as it offers us wall-to-wall horror trailers.  There are slashers (The Prowler, Happy Birthday to Me, The Funhouse) sequels to several of the genre’s most famous franchises (Friday the 13^th, Poltergeist, The Amityville Horror), Stephen King (The Dead Zone, Firestarter, Pet Sematary), Dario Argento (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Deep Red, Phenomena), When Animal Attack flicks (Orca, Deadly Eyes, Razorback), and werewolf movies (Wolfen, An American Werewolf in London, The Howling). 

In fact, The Spawning is so strong that it could’ve been an outstanding standalone release.  It just goes to show Umbrella Entertainment’s dedication.  Most companies would’ve been content to give you one three-hour compilation and call it a day.  This one gives you two for the price of one.  At six hours, it was a given that some of the trailers would be a tad underwhelming.  Still, it’s well-worth picking up just for The Spawning alone.

NEUTRON, THE ATOMIC SUPERMAN VS. THE DEATH ROBOTS (1962) *** ½

 

Neutron, the Atomic Superman vs. the Death Robots.  Just say that title out loud.  Even if you aren’t totally addicted to Mexican Wrestling Movies like I am, I guarantee the poetry of that title alone is enough to bring a smile to your face. 

This is the sequel to the enormously entertaining Neutron, the Man in the Black Mask, and for my money, it’s even better.  I think it helped that the version of Death Robots I saw was dubbed, rather poorly, into English.  Because of that, when the masked mad scientist tells his helium-voiced dwarf assistant lines like “I need blood!  Blood!  Lots of blood!”, it gives the movie an added tinge of bizarreness. 

Yes, that masked madman, Dr. Caronte (Julio Aleman) is at it again.  Narrowly escaping certain death in the first film, he sets out on conquering the world by stealing the bodies of three noted scientists and using their brains to reformulate a neutron bomb.  Naturally, the only one who stands in his way is the black-masked crimefighter, Neutron (Wolf Ruvinskis).

This movie has it all.  Zombies, mad scientists, Mexican wrestlers, and gratuitous musical numbers.  Basically, anything you could possibly want from a ‘60s Lucha Libre flick.  I guess the one thing it doesn’t have is… you know, death robots.  Unless you count Caronte’s mindless zombies as “death robots”.  Or maybe the talking brains he keeps in his lab.  Regardless, it’s a blast from start to finish.

Once again, director Federico Curiel infuses the movie with a lot of atmosphere and style.  The sequence where Caronte’s zombies go out and attack innocent civilians is particularly well done.  He also gives us cool bits like Neutron pulling a Rick Dalton and using a flamethrower on a zombie, a surprising scene where a zombie self-destructs itself by ripping off its own head, and a fun sequence where a zombie dresses up like Neutron to foil the police. 

One could complain about the fact that Neutron doesn’t wrestle inside the squared circle, but his hand-to-hand bouts with Dr. Caronte in laboratories and dungeons pack a real punch, so it’s easily forgivable, to me anyway.  Or you could bitch that it has maybe two too many cheesy musical numbers.  Or the love triangle between Nora the nightclub singer (Rosita Arenas) and her three suitors (wait, would that make it a love rectangle?) kind of bogs things down.  All that doesn’t really amount to a hill of beans, because whenever Neutron is front and center beating the crap out of mush-faced zombies, Neutron, the Atomic Superman vs. the Death Robots is stellar south of the border entertainment.  

AKA:  Neutron vs. the Death Robots.  AKA:  Robots of Death.

HORROR OF THE BLOOD MONSTERS (1970) * ½

 

Here’s another archival review of an Al Adamson movie from my old site, originally posted on April 15, 2010.  (Tax Day.  Bummer.)

HORROR OF THE BLOOD MONSTERS  (1970)  * ½

A bunch of vampires attack a mess of people then the plot begins.  A team of astronauts travel to a prehistoric planet complete with different colored atmosphere and stock footage from other movies.  On their journey, the team finds feuding clans of cavemen; some of which happen to be vampires.  One hot cavegirl eventually makes friends with the astronauts and leads them to a pit of petroleum so they can gas up their rocket and go home.

So basically, it’s Dracula Meets Women of the Prehistoric Planet.

If Horror of the Blood Monsters doesn’t make one lick of sense, it’s because it was directed by Al (The Possession of Nurse Sherri) Adamson.  Actually, it was only partially directed by him since he just added new footage to a cheap-o Filipino caveman flick and tried to pass it off as the world’s first Sci-Fi Vampire Caveman Movie. 

If you haven’t already guessed, most of Horror of the Blood Monsters is just plain awful.  It does however have a couple moments that are so bad that they make you chuckle.  For example, one of the cavemen’s names is “Dookie”.  How funny is that?  You can also have fun spotting just how many movies get ripped off during the course of the film.  The color changing planet is kinda like the one from The Angry Red Planet; except there are more colors.  There’s also a couple who fuck with the help of a glowing machine that’s similar to the one in Barbarella.  What they have to do with the plot is anyone’s guess. 

The flick also has a couple of marginally well-done monsters too.  There are some big bug men that aren’t too shabby and the way they made the Bat People appear to fly was sorta clever.  The gore is pretty much non-existent but there are a couple of fairly decent arrow shots, including one to the head.  (All of this comes from the Filipino movie-within-a-movie by the way.)

Yeah, Horror of the Blood Monsters has some neat stuff sprinkled throughout.  The problem is that you have to sit through a LOT of boring shit to get to it.  On top of that, everyone in the cast is terrible.  The lone exception is an especially cranky looking John Carradine.  I wonder why he looks so pissed off in this movie.  Oh yeah, that’s right, he read the script.  Say what you will about Horror of the Blood Monsters though, it’s the best Sci-Fi Vampire Caveman Movie I’ve ever seen; so, it’s got that going for it.

AKA:  Blood Creatures from the Prehistoric Planet.  AKA:  Creatures of the Prehistoric Planet.  AKA:  Creatures of the Red Planet.  AKA:  Space Mission to the Lost Planet.  AKA:  Vampire Men of the Lost Planet.

How could I possibly follow up that fine bit of decade-old film criticism?  Okay, well, I guess I have to write SOMETHING.  So, here goes:

This was the tenth film on the Al Adamson box set.  It is the FIFTH one that has the word “Blood” or “Bloody” in the title, after Blood of Ghastly Horror, Blood of Dracula’s Castle, Hell’s Bloody Devils, and Five Bloody Graves.  The man obviously had a limited word bank when it came to titles, but that’s just one of the reasons why old Al is such an icon around these parts:  The man knew what the audience wanted to see, and they wanted BLOOD.  In fact, this won’t be the last Adamson movie with the word “Blood” in the title on this box set.  That distinction belongs to Brain of Blood, which I should be watching very soon.

I like the random opening with vampires sporting phony fangs (including Adamson himself) stalking unsuspecting victims.  The narration tries to tie it together with the space exploration plot and does it so poorly that it almost feels like you’re watching an anthology.  The spaceship scenes are slightly worse, but still sort of watchable in a “I can’t believe they’re making a ‘50s Sci-Fi movie in the ‘70s” way.  The longest part is the middle section where the astronauts walk along the planet’s surface and watch a bunch of tinted footage from a Filipino caveman flick.  

I’m not much of the fan of the space-set scenes, although I kind of love seeing an extremely crotchety John Carradine barking orders, acting annoyed, and generally being a big whiny ass grouch.  You take what you can get when you’ve sat through ten bad Al Adamson movies in two weeks. 

Speaking of which, I wonder if anyone’s noticed the way I compliment Adamson’s cut-and-paste directorial style of taking old material and incorporating new material to make a new product by cutting and pasting together new reviews from the scraps of my old ones?  Probably not.  Then again, what better way to honor a director who made a career off repackaged movies than with a bunch of repackaged reviews?

NEUTRON, THE MAN IN THE BLACK MASK (1962) ***

 

Wolf Ruvinskis stars in the first of five movies as Neutron, the Man in the Black Mask.  Unlike his Lucha Libre counterparts like El Santo, Blue Demon, and Hurricane Ramirez, Neutron doesn’t wrestle in the ring.  While I was at first a bit dismayed by the fact we weren’t going to see Neutron strutting his stuff in the ring, the film as a whole is so entertaining and fast-moving that it becomes a relatively minor quibble in the long run. 

A brilliant scientist creates a neutron bomb that will turn human beings to dust.  When his unscrupulous assistant, Dr. Walker (Claudio Brook) tries to murder him and steal the discovery for himself, the bomb is detonated, leaving Walker hideously scarred.  Another scientist is working on a similar project, and Walker teams up with a masked mad doctor named Dr. Caronte (Julio Aleman) to steal the formula and replicate the experiment.  It’s then up to Neutron (no relation to the bomb that’s so hotly sought after), the mysterious masked man to foil the evildoers’ plans. 

Even though there isn’t any professional wrestling to be had in Neutron, the Man in the Black Mask, our hero still finds time to body slam and suplex a bunch of bad guys and monsters outside the ring in places like living rooms and mad scientist labs, so it’s all good.  Unlike, say, El Santo, Neutron is leaner, faster, and lighter on his feet, which gives him his own unique fighting style.  You do have to wait a good half hour or so before Neutron arrives on the scene, which is a bit weird.  However, there’s enough scenes of mad scientists, dwarf assistants, zombies, and Mexican rock n’ roll to keep you entertained until he finally shows up.

The credit must be given to director Federico Curiel, who does a fantastic job creating a creepy atmosphere, especially during the laboratory and castle scenes.  The scene where Caronte first displays his zombie army is particularly well done.  Incredibly enough, this was his first film as a director and he already shows complete command over his craft.  He would later go on to direct many El Santo, Black Whip, and Nostradamus movies, but this is the one that started it all.

AKA:  Neutron and the Black Mask.  AKA:  Neutron, the Atomic Superman and the Black Mask.  AKA:  Neutron, the Black Mask.  AKA:  Neutron vs. the Black Mask.

SATANWAR (1979) *** ½

 

What do Paranormal Activity, The Amityville Horror, Poltergeist, and The Entity have in common?  They all ripped off Satanwar to some degree.  What?  You never heard of Satanwar?  Well, let’s remedy that!

After a lot of Dragnet-style narration (you know, the whole “The names have been changed to protect the innocent” spiel and all that), a couple moves into their new house.  It doesn’t take long to discover it’s more like a nightmare.  The cross on the wall keeps turning upside down, chairs move on their own, bright lights appear out of nowhere, and slime and goo drips out of the major appliances.  Since the headstrong couple just paid for the house, they decide they’re not going to leave it.  They still stay put even after Louise (Sally Schermerhorn) is groped by a ghost!  They do have a heart to heart talk about the situation though, which leads to her hubby Bill (Jimmy Drankovitch) telling Louise, “If he tries it again, tell that ghost that rape, sex, and molestation is my department!”

Satanwar is a scrappy, no-budget horror flick that will have your jaw dropping more often than not.  It’s not exactly well made, but it’s certainly entertaining as hell.  The opening scenes kind of have a Charles B. Pierce feel to them as both the narrator and Louise take turns dictating to the audience.  The supernatural shenanigans scenes are admittedly cheesy, and the special effects are lame.  However, the grimy film stock, coupled with director Bart La Rue’s off-kilter direction makes it all unforgettable.  The synthesizer score is genuinely effective too, which adds to the overall uneasy feel of the attack scenes.

Although the climactic finale occurs at the hour mark, the movie isn’t quite over.  It presses on with a faux-Mondo Cane-type expose on voodoo priestesses.  After they writhe around a campfire for fifteen minutes or so, the film finally wraps up.  While Satanwar kind of loses steam during this stretch, it’s still totally worth it just for the complete randomness of it all.  I don’t know if La Rue was like, “Oh crap, the movie’s only an hour long!  Let’s tack some bullshit at the end!”, but it still sort of works. 

In short, Satanwar is breezy, cheesy, WTF fun.

BLOODSHOT (2020) ***

 

I don’t know if it’s because I miss the theatrical moviegoing experience.  Or the fact they pushed back the new Fast and Furious.  Or if it’s because we’re not getting to see comic book movies like Black Widow and Wonder Woman this year.  For some reason, whatever it is, I had a helluva good time with Vin Diesel-starring comic book adaptation, Bloodshot.

Is it a thoroughly generic and derivative superhero movie?  Yes.  However, it’s one that happens to be slightly self-aware, which helps it be enormously entertaining. 

Diesel stars as a soldier who vows revenge on the man who killed his wife (Talulah Riley).  The only problem is… he’s dead.  Thanks to a smarmy scientist (Guy Pearce), he is brought back to life, infused with self-healing nanite technology and a computer brain that gives him complete access to government surveillance satellites, and trained to become the perfect soldier.  Naturally, he goes AWOL in order to exact revenge on his wife’s murderer (Toby Kebbell).   

That’s the set-up.  To get into more detail would spoil some of the fun.  Just know it’s kind of like Robocop Gets a Memento from Wolverine and Deadpool at the Edge of Tomorrow on Groundhog Day.  Even though he’s juggling a lot of clichés and half-baked parts from other movies, director David S.F. Wilson (a former visual effects man) has a keen sense of humor that doesn’t get in the way of the story, but actually enhances it.  Things start off a little wonky, but even that has a humorous payoff, as the film finds its footing about midway through and really begins to take off.

It helps that Pearce injects the movie with a slimy arrogance that elevates his potentially one-dimensional role into something memorable.  Another bonus is Wilson’s surprisingly strong flair for action.  The shootout in a tunnel where Diesel gets his face blown off and then it reattaches itself is cool, and the final duel with a bio-enhanced henchman (Sam Heughan from Outlander), who dons a pair of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robot arms for their big slobberknocker is quite amusing.  (When their big brawl atop a series of speeding elevators occurs, try to imagine WHO is actually in those elevators as the facility looks like it’s only home to about four soldiers, one scientist, and maybe half a dozen tech guys.) 

Vin delivers a solid performance and emotes as much as the freshly resurrected corpse of a super-soldier can.  I especially liked his reactions during his funny superhero workout montage.  I don’t think it’s as good as the Riddick series or as wild as the Fast and Furious franchise, but I would put this a notch or two above the XXX movies.  It’s not a game changer or anything, but it’s a perfectly suitable Diesel placeholder until the next Fast and Furious flick gets here. 

HURRICANE RAMIREZ (1954) ***

 

I know I kind of watched these movies out of order, but the continuity is strong enough throughout the series that it wasn’t difficult to figure everything out, even without the benefit of subtitles.  In fact, after watching his antics in and out of the ring for two sequels, it was interesting to go back witness the humble origins of Hurricane Ramirez.  It also made me appreciate the family subplots in the later films a little more as their scenes in this one are better developed and entertaining to watch. 

Fernando (David Silva) works at night as a lounge singer, much to the dismay of his father Tonino (Tonino Jackson), a distinguished wrestler.  Little does his old man know, Fernando secretly moonlights as the masked wrestler Hurricane Ramirez.  When Hurricane refuses Tonino’s request for a wrestling bout, it drives father and son farther apart.  Their feud is put on hold when some gangsters kidnap Tonino and Hurricane swoops in to save the day.

The wrestling scenes are fast and furious.  Ramirez cuts a dashing figure in his wrestling matches, and Tonino has his moments to shine as well.  I think my favorite wrestling match was when Hurricane’s buddy puts on his mask to throw off suspicion to his true identity and winds up in the ring with an overly vain grappler who checks his hair in the mirror every two minutes.  The scene where father and son finally team up for a tag team match in the finale is a real barnburner too.  Heck, there’s even some women’s wrestling thrown in there for variety.  On the song and dance side of things, Silva’s numbers are a bit dull, but the cha-cha routines are full of energy. 

Hurricane Ramirez is indispensable as a historic milestone of Mexican (and the world, for that matter) cinema as it was one of the first Lucha Libre films ever made.  While it may feature a few too many dull musical numbers that gets in the way of the Mexican wrestling, the dynamic between Hurricane and his father gives the movie a dramatic core that many of its kind lacks.

As a connoisseur of these films, it’s fascinating to watch.  It may not be the best Lucha Libra movie ever made, but it’s interesting to see the genre taking its first formative steps.  After all, without Hurricane Ramirez, we wouldn’t have El Santo, so I think we all need to pay homage to the man who started it all.

FIVE BLOODY GRAVES (1969) ½ *

 

I accidentally skipped over Five Bloody Graves while working my way through the Al Adamson box set from Severin.  I’d like to think it was because I was all-too eager to get to the one-two punch of Smashing the Crime Syndicate and Hell’s Bloody Devils.  I mean, Colonel Sanders only made so many film appearances, and you have to savor each and every one.  (Even if it is the same footage of him awkwardly delivering two lines in both movies.)  It probably had more to do with the fact that I savaged it in my previous review of the flick.  (Which appeared on my old site back on February 8^th, 2008.)  Here’s what I had to say then: 

 

FIVE BLOODY GRAVES  (1969)  ½ *

Director Al Adamson has done some pretty awful movies in nearly every genre, so it’s no surprise that a western directed by him would be equally as shitty.  As Adamson flicks go, it’s no Dracula vs. Frankenstein, but at least it’s better than Blood of Ghastly Horror. 

Robert Dix stars as a cowboy who is on a quest for vengeance to find the Apache Indian named Satago (future director John “Bud” Cardos), the man responsible for his wife’s death.  Dix saves one woman from being turned into an Apache love slave and warns her and her husband to skedaddle because even more Indians are on their way.  Of course, they don’t listen, and they end up getting their wigs torn off.  (I would say “scalped”, but clearly the Indians just pull the wigs off the tops of their heads.) 

Then Satago finds a squaw who’s been shacked up with a white man.  He doesn’t like it much, so he beats the guy within an inch of his life and leaves the squaw out for the vultures.  Two cowpokes find her tied up in the middle of the desert and one of them decides to rape her.

Let’s talk about rape in movies for a second, folks.  We’ve had some brutal rape scenes in the movies before.  Anyone who’s seen I Spit on Your Grave, Last House on the Left or Ms. 45 can attest to that.  But let me tell you something, you’ve not seen anything like the rape scene in Five Bloody Graves.  I am not stretching my imagination when I tell you that it lasts .012678 of a second.  Seriously, the guy leans over the squaw, doesn’t even thrust ONCE and is DONE.  Incredible.  He rewards her generosity by shooting her in the face.  Honestly, I think it takes her longer to die than it did for him to finish. 

After that bit of business, Dix comes to the aid of Scott Brady and his band of whores to fend off some more Apaches.  The duo of rapists also joins the caravan and when the husband of the rapee finds the man who did it, he gets revenge by giving him a Bowie knife to the gizzard.  Satago finally puts an arrow through the entire cast except for Dix.  Unfortunately, he runs out of arrows and Dix throws him off a waterfall. 

I LIKE westerns, but they aren’t my bread and butter.  I only watched this flick primarily because of Adamson’s involvement and to see John Carradine play yet another priest, but this flick is one of his all-time worst.  The film is loaded with stupefying narration that’s spoken by “Death”, but anyone could plainly see that “Death” is clearly the editor’s way of holding the slipshod plot together.  Dix (who also wrote this inexorable excrement) makes for a pretty pathetic hero and at one point gets out-acted by his horse. 

The music in this sucker is equally atrocious.  (It was obviously taken from other movies and haphazardly edited in.)  At one point, Brady clutches his beloved dead whore and striptease music inexplicably plays.  

What’s worse, it that there are only TWO graves in the entire movie and not one of them are bloody.  (At least a movie like Three on a Meathook has the balls to actually give you what the title implies.)  Even if you count the two people who are tied up and left for the vultures as being in a “grave”, that still only makes FOUR.  We DO get to see a little bit of blood every now and then, like when somebody gets an arrow into their abdomen, but it’s about enough to fill a medicine dropper. 

AKA:  Five Bloody Days to Tombstone.  AKA:  Gun Riders.  AKA:  The Lonely Man.

My second go-around watching it was even more painful.  I don’t really have much to add to what I already said twelve years ago.  I will say that I no longer think Blood of Ghastly Horror is worse than this one.  At least that flick has a cheesy looking zombie in it.  Anyway, here are a few new thoughts: 

You know you’re in trouble when the narrator (this this case, “Death” himself”) keeps referring to “Five Bloody Days” when the movie is called “Five Bloody Graves”. 

I fell asleep on this TWICE.  (I can safely say I didn’t fall asleep on Blood of Ghastly Horror when I re-watched that.)  If it wasn’t for the gratuitous nude scene that opens the picture, it probably would’ve been three times. 

The horror-tinged opening credits are pretty cool, as is the Psycho Goes West theme music, but it’s all downhill after that. 

Remember when I saw Satan’s Sadists, and stated my theory that Adamson was at his best when he was making a single movie and not cutting and pasting one together out of two movies?  Five Bloody Graves shoots a hole into that theory.  Big time.

HELL’S BLOODY DEVILS (1970) *

Hell’s Bloody Devils is basically Smashing the Crime Syndicate with the addition of a biker subplot.  These new biker scenes were the only way director Al Adamson could get the picture released as Hollywood was still in the midst of its post-Easy Rider biker boom.  They don’t add or detract much from the overall film, but they certainly stick out like a sore thumb.  Vicki Volante is the lone holdover from the original cast to link these new scenes together, although it nevertheless feels quite incongruous. 

The plot is essentially the same as Smashing the Crime Syndicate.  Only this time, there are a few scenes where the depraved biker gang The Bloody Devils (led by Adamson regular Robert Dix) receive payoffs from the Neo-Nazi group for allegedly helping their cause.  Mostly though, The Bloody Devils just ride down the highway to pad out the running time.  There’s also a scene where they pick up some cute hitchhikers, get stoned, and have an orgy, but it’s nowhere near as good as the Lolita scene from the original version of the movie (which is fortunately still intact).

If you’ve been following along with me for Al Adamson August, you’ll know that his cut-and-paste features are often a chore to sit through.  The secret agent shit is just as insufferable as it was in Smashing the Crime Syndicate.  At least there isn’t as much of it this time around.  Adamson was also wise not to remove the Colonel Sanders scene, which is probably the only reason the movie is even remembered fifty years later. 

AKA:  The Fakers.  AKA:  Smashing the Crime Syndicate.  AKA:  Nightmare in Blood.  AKA:  Swastika Savages. 

 

I reviewed Hell’s Bloody Devils way back when on my old site as well.  2007 to be exact.  Here’s another review from the vaults.  As you can see, my opinion on the film hasn’t changed much since then:

HELL’S BLOODY DEVILS  (1970)  *

From director Al (Black Samurai) Adamson and producers Rex (The Brain That Wouldn’t Die) Carlton and Fred (The Phantom Planet) Gebhardt comes this lethargic “biker” movie. 

It stars some pretty capable talent like Broderick (Highway Patrol) Crawford, Scott (Gremlins) Brady, Kent (The Mighty Gorga) Taylor, John (The Howling) Carradine, Jack (The Born Losers) Starrett, and Leslie (The Girl in Gold Boots) McRae, but the REAL star of the movie is none other than Colonel Sanders!  That’s right the founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken himself has a small cameo (playing himself) and is the only thing memorable about this mess.  (The reason for his appearance:  He was offered a role in exchange for free chicken for the cast and crew!) 

If the plot involving bikers, FBI agents, Mafia hitmen, and Neo-Nazi counterfeiters doesn’t make a lick of sense it’s because Adamson patched this movie together (much like he did with Blood of Ghastly Horror) with an unreleased spy movie and added some new bikers scenes to cash in on the post Easy Rider biker movie craze.  The non-existent action scenes, shoddy car chases (they actually stop at traffic lights!) and static dialogue scenes will be sleep-inducing for most viewers, but since Colonel Sanders is in it, you should at least watch it for him.  Maybe if he added his “11 herbs and spices” to the movie, it would have helped. 

There’s also James Bond opening credits (complete with fake Shirley Bassey music) and some brief nudity.  (“I turn 17 next month!”)  John “Bud” Cardos was the production manager and Greydon Clark was an assistant director.  They also appear in small roles. 

The ads promised: “The frightening story of the attempt to take over the USA by a mad political group using the meanest motorcycle riders they can find to rape and pillage their way into power!”  

Don’t bet on it. 

AKA:  Operation M.  AKA:  Smashing the Crime Syndicate.  AKA:  Swastika Savages.  AKA:  The Fakers.