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.