THE FURY OF THE KARATE EXPERTS (1982) ** ½

The evil queen Queria returns to her kingdom and has a priest remind her what happened in the last El Santo movie, The Fist of Death.  Once she and the audience are brought up to speed, she proclaims, “And now I wish to share my happiness with all of you!” and promptly does a sexy Vegas showgirl dance number by a giant bonfire.  Since Queria is once again played by the buxom Grace Renat, her jiggly gyrations are an excellent way to kickstart any movie.   

El Santo and his bumbling sidekick are invited to the Jungle Girl and the Karate Prince’s wedding, so they parachute their way to the palace for the occasion.  Six minutes into the film and we have already seen an evil priestess doing a go-go number and a skydiving luchador.  This is what I call entertainment.

Unfortunately, after a promising start, The Fury of the Karate Experts kind of gets bogged down once an elderly professor and his frumpy daughter show up.  Luckily, Renat’s constant sexy dancing more than makes up for the sluggish passages (most of which revolve around characters boating through the Everglades).  The plot is also pretty thin this time around.  In fact, you’ll swear that the movie was comprised of outtakes and deleted scenes from The Fist of Death.  (The Jungle Girl’s origin flashback is shown once again in its entirety.)  We also get about a half a dozen subplots that are introduced in the last twenty minutes only to be immediately forgotten.  The ending is completely nonsensical too, but at the very least it’s virtually impossible to predict. 

Another issue:  For a movie called The Fury of the Karate Experts, there are very few karate experts on hand, and none of them seem especially furious.  

My favorite part was when Queria put El Santo under her spell and made him her slave.  Of course, if it was me wearing the silver mask, you wouldn’t have to put me under a spell if you looked like this:

Many of El Santo’s movies feature sequences that fluctuate from night to day in successive shots.  The Fury of the Karate Experts features what is probably the most egregious day-to-night-to-day scene of all time when a wild nighttime voodoo ceremony is intercut with scenes of people riding boats in broad daylight, with occasional cutaways to the moon to make things even more confusing.  Still, I can’t be too tough on the film when nearly half of the movie is devoted to Grace Renat doing her thing. 

AKA:  The Fury of the Karate Killers.  AKA:  The Fury of the Karate Masters. 

THE FIST OF DEATH (1982) *** ½

Queria (Grace Renat) is a sexy priestess who wears slinky white Vegas showgirl outfits.  During a healing ritual, she uses “The Star of Great Power” to cure crippled and blind villagers while her even sexier twin sister Kungyan (also Renat), who dresses like Elvira looks on.  The evil twin then taunts her sister by turning into hairy wrestlers, snakes, and even a tiger via jump cuts.  Kungyan then orders her badass henchman (Mexican wrestler Tinieblas) to steal the stone.  

Desperate, Queria turns to her idol, “The Oracle” for help.  The Oracle, it should be said, is nothing more than a C-3PO Halloween mask Krazy Glued to a funeral wreath.  (Kungyan has an Oracle of her own, which is a C-3PO Halloween mask spray-painted purple and glued to a mirror, so it looks like a bizarre version of the Magic Mirror from Snow White.)  Naturally, the Oracle tells her there is only one man who can help her, El Santo!

 

That’s right, El Santo doesn’t even show up for a good fifteen minutes, and it really doesn’t matter when so much of the movie is this entertaining.  He was nearing the twilight of his life, and he’s older, slower, and lumpier than we’re used to seeing.  That’s okay though because the supporting cast is colorful, exuberant, and a lot of fun to watch.  I haven’t even mentioned the subplot about the Karate Prince (Steve Cheng) marrying the sexy Jungle Girl (Sandra Duarte) or the evil queen’s plot to sacrifice her.

 

I don’t know where Grace Renat has been all my life, but she is incredible.  Yes, she is quite lovely as the good twin, but she is easily in the Hall of Fame when wearing her evil priestess outfit.  WOW!  She also does seductive dance numbers while wearing a spangly gold dress.  

 

Renat looks like a million bucks, but so does the movie.  It’s a lot more atmospheric and colorful than a lot of the later El Santo pictures.  That doesn’t mean the overall cheapness of the production isn’t endearing.  I mean, wait till you see the split-screen effect used to show both twin sisters on the screen at the same time.  You’re guaranteed to howl with laughter.

 

Somewhere around the halfway point, the breakneck pacing and rampant hilarity begin to wane.  It’s here where the film relies a little too heavily on padding in the form of scenes of El Santo walking through the jungle, taking leisurely boat rides, and going on scenic airplane trips.  These scenes still contain a few moments of laugh-out-loud cheese though (like when Santo tosses a henchman into the business end of a propellor).  Also, just when it looks like the film is about to peter out, Renat will do a crazed dance where she undulates wildly in front of the glowing stone, and everything is right with the world again.  

 

One could complain that The Fist of Death is low on action as Santo only gets one wrestling match, and a tag team affair at that.  The fights outside the ring are weak too, mostly due to his advanced age.  Many revolve around him simply deking out of the way of the opponent’s attacks.  Still, when the rest of the movie is this entertaining, it’s a minor quibble.

 

This was filmed in Florida back-to-back with Fury of the Karate Experts, which proved to be El Santo’s last starring vehicle.  

THE CONJURING: THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT (2021) * ½

After a botched exorcism of a little boy, the spirit of a demon goes into his older brother.  A few days later, he kills somebody while under the influence of the demon.  He’s arrested for murder and it’s up to the paranormal investigating team of Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) to prove he’s not guilty by reason of demonic possession.   

The Conjuring Cinematic Universe is spotty at best.  There have been a couple of good entries, but the pendulum of quality swings wildly into the realm of cinematic shit just as often.  I knew I was in trouble when I saw this one was directed by Michael Chaves, who also helmed one of the worst Conjuring spin-offs, The Curse of La Llorona.   

The opening exorcism scene is laughable.  From the visual rip-offs of the Friedkin classic, to the cheesy looking body contortions, it’s pretty pathetic in just about every regard.  It only gets worse from there. 

This is also one of those movies where everyone speaks in hushed tones, so you have to keep turning up the volume on your TV to hear what they’re saying.  Then… BAM!  There’s a loud noise or a sting on the soundtrack and it about blows out your goddamned speakers.  (Speaking of which, I’m glad I was able to see this streaming at home on HBO Max instead of venturing out into the theaters.) 

For all the predictable jump scares, the only jump cut that works is a (intentionally) humorous one in which another one of the Conjure-Verse’s characters gets namechecked.  Other than that, it’s pretty much a mess.  Ultimately, it’s nothing more than a bunch of assorted ideas that never gel, including moments that rip off Amityville 2, A Nightmare on Elm Street 4, and The Shining.  

It might’ve been somewhat reasonable at ninety minutes, but since it clocks in at nearly two hours, it’s kind of a chore to sit through.  (Again, thanks to being home, I could pause it and make myself a sandwich or something whenever things got dull.)  It doesn’t help when much of the movie is so repetitive as many scenes boil down to Wilson standing around with a look on his face like he has an ice cream headache while Farmiga wanders off on a psychic field trip through a crime scene. 

The Conjuring:  The Devil Made Me Do It is not out-and-out awful like Annabelle, or as relentlessly dull as La Llorona.  I guess the presence of Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga alone guaranteed it wouldn’t be a total washout.  Even though this one isn’t very good, I kind of like seeing them growing old together and solving supernatural mysteries and shit, even if they look like they’re pretty much going through the motions this time around. 

The Conjuring Universe Scorecard: 

The Conjuring:  ***

Annabelle Comes Home:  ***

Annabelle:  Creation:  ** ½ 

The Conjuring 2:  **

The Nun:  **

The Conjuring:  The Devil Made Me Do It:  * ½ 

The Curse of La Llorona:  *

Annabelle:  ½ *

THE AMUSEMENT PARK (2021) ****

“One day you will be old.” 

Doesn’t sound so ominous, does it?  That one sentence, spoken by the great Lincoln Maazel at the beginning of George A. Romero’s long-lost The Amusement Park echoes throughout the rest of the film.  It is both a reminder and a warning.  A cautionary tale for the young and a bitter mirror for the elderly. 

Romero made The Amusement Park in the early ‘70s as a PSA for the Lutheran Church to raise awareness about elder neglect and abuse.  I think they were expecting something a little more… churchy.  I guess they didn’t realize that when you hire the director of Night of the Living Dead to make a statement, you get more than you bargained for.  In some ways, it is his most haunting and terrifying film.  Free from the constraints of a simple narrative structure, Romero was able to create a waking nightmare scenario dripping with symbolism, irony, and cruelty.  The church shelved the finished product, citing it was too disturbing, and who could blame them, really?  

As a jaded horror fan, I must admit it is one of the most disturbing films I have ever seen. 

That isn’t hyperbole.  The way Romero was able to recreate the sensation of being trapped inside of a nightmare you can’t escape is rather incredible.  I can count on one hand the number of films that have left me in a state of shock, sickness, and fear.  It is a movie that will make you scream, first out of fear, then out of anger. 

I won’t spoil the specifics, but I’ll give you the broad strokes.  Maazel is a kindly old man who despite numerous warnings, goes into a seemingly harmless, even joyous amusement park.  He soon learns it is an ominous death trap where the elderly are ridiculed, marginalized, imprisoned, and left to die.  Each one of the attractions on the outset seem to offer fun, solace, and happiness, but they all have their own pitfalls, causing the elderly riders much inconvenience, shame, and regret. 

I loved the way Romero makes the viewer feel as if they are in the grip of a nightmare.  The use of oversized props, repeated sequences, and subliminal appearances of a shrouded figure heighten the already intense atmosphere.  Maazel, who is incredible, is not only our battered main character, but also an audience surrogate.  The closer you are to his age, the more you will feel his pain, exhaustion, and fear.  Heck, I’m in my early ‘40s and I was having panic attacks throughout this thing. 

Not only is this a wonderful piece of cinema archeology (I can’t imagine this working half as well if it didn’t look like a ‘70s home movie that escaped from Hell), but it is also a treat for fans of George A. Romero.  He is clearly having a field day sprinkling in all his visual trademarks, peppering the screen with his usual stock players (he even has a cameo himself), and drenching the film with his signature irony.   

This is an angry film.  It is a condemnation of elder neglect and abuse.  The wraparounds featuring Maazel as himself offer some hope, but not much.  The reason it works so well is that at its heart, The Amusement Park is a good old-fashioned Christian Scare Film.  Scare Films don’t work if the audience isn’t scared.  And brother, you ain’t never been scared like this! 

One of the scariest things about The Amusement Park?  It was filmed in 1973 and nothing has changed.  

CURSE OF THE UNDEAD (1959) **

Here’s a horror flick from the late ‘50s Universal cycle that’s sort of slipped through the cracks.  It’s not very good, but it earns points for being the first vampire western.  Despite the novelty, it feels less like an earnest effort to blend two different genres and more of a slapdash attempt to string together two unfinished scripts.  

Drake Robey (Michael Pate) is a gunfighter in black who moseys into a quiet western town.  Buffer (Bruce Gordon) is a greedy ranch owner in the midst of a land feud with a prominent family.  After Buffer has the patriarch shot down, his daughter (Kathleen Crowley) hires Robey to get revenge.  Only the town preacher (Eric Fleming) suspects Drake is the one responsible for the rash of murders that have left the victims with two puncture wounds on their neck.

The western sequences are rote and uninspired; full of stock characters and standard issue cliches.  In fact, if it wasn’t for the vampire angle, Curse of the Undead would’ve been completely forgettable.  The problem is the horror elements aren’t all that great either.  The long flashback explaining the vampire’s origin is hokey and weak too.  The Old West variations on the usual vampire shenanigans are OK, I guess.  One thing is for sure, genre buffs will have fun spotting how and when the film rips off Dracula.  Ultimately, there aren’t nearly enough of these moments sprinkled about to make it worthwhile.  Still, it might be worth a look, if only as a curio.  

There are a few good ideas here.  The sequence where the preacher is stalked by the vampire starts off well.  (He can only see the vampire’s shadow and hear his footprints.)  It’s just that the execution is clunky.  I did like the Invisible Man-style special effects during the film’s final minutes though.

It also doesn’t help that the cast is bland from top to bottom.  Fleming makes for a square (I know he’s a preacher and all, but still), and Pate is no Bela Lugosi.  I’m sure you probably already knew that, but he’s not convincing as a hardened gunslinger either.  Gordon kind of looks and acts like Rodney Dangerfield when scared, which is kind of funny though.

Director Edward Dein later went on to make the much better The Leech Woman.

AKA:  Mark of the West.

ARRIVAL (2016) ****

Sometimes it’s the notes you don’t hit that matter the most.  We’ve seen what happens in Arrival many times before, dating way back to the ‘50s.  Aliens come to Earth trying to communicate with mankind.  Almost immediately, the world is thrust to the brink of war, if only because one slight misunderstanding could unleash an unknown form of extraterrestrial fury.  

Arrival is a much more intimate, thoughtful, and thought-provoking film than many of its ilk.  Instead of focusing on the global implications of an alien invasion, we focus (mostly) on one woman and her task to understand the alien’s language.  She is a linguistics professor who is assigned to meet the aliens firsthand and decipher their cryptic language, which looks like rings a coffee cup would leave behind on an end table.  

Amy Adams gives a great performance as the heroine.  Many scenes are nothing more than her and octopus-like monsters that spurt ink and run around like that sculpture Catherine O’Hara made in Beetlejuice.  Somehow, she’s able to not only pull it off, but make you feel something for both her and the aliens.  You see, it’s up to her to make head or tails of the alien’s symbols and decide whether or not their intentions are friendly.  

It’s slow going too.  The process, I mean, not the movie.  Director Denis Villeneuve takes his time to allow Adams and the aliens to build trust and eventually, an understanding.  Yes, the movie does have the usual subplots that are normally found in the genre.  There’s the typical stuff involving the Russians and Chinese potentially plotting war against the aliens, but it feels more like he’s paying lip service to the genre demands than caving into them.  This is a movie more interested in establishing a line of communication with other worlds than starting wars with them.  It’s closer to Close Encounters of the Third Kind than Alien, minus all the stuff with Richard Dreyfus playing in his mashed potatoes.   

I wouldn’t dream of revealing just how Adams… uh… arrives at her conclusion regarding the aliens’ intentions.  That’s kind of what makes it memorable.  Sure, it sort of owes a debt to Contact, another movie in which an Oscar winner talked to aliens, but it works just as well, if not better here. 

In short, Arrival is one of the best alien movies I’ve seen in a long time.  It’s further proof that Villeneuve is the real deal.  I can’t wait to see what he does with Dune.

THE MANHANDLERS (1974) ** ½

When directionless Katie (Cara Burgess) inherits the family business from her deceased uncle, she thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to show that she can make something of herself.  Understandably, she is mortified to learn the family business is a shady massage parlor.  She eventually gets over it though, and with the help of her two gal pals (Judy Brown and Rosalind Miles), she turns the business legitimate.  Once the Mob learns Katie and her crew are turning a profit, they send some hoodlums to collect protection money from the girls.  Problems arise when one of the mobsters falls in love with Katie. 

I’m a sucker for movies where the main character inherits a sexy business.  As far as the subgenre goes, The Manhandlers isn’t a particularly stellar example, but it’s innocuous fun for fans of lighthearted drive-in exploitation fare.  Did I wish there were a few more nudity-laden set pieces?  Sure.  However, the acting is surprisingly solid, the pacing is relatively swift, and the storyline is engaging for the most part. 

Director Lee (Angel Unchained) Madden does a competent job when it comes to the various sex, shower, massage, and body painting sequences.  While the rest of the picture falls short of being a classic, it remains a sturdy vehicle for its leading ladies.  All three get at least one major sex and/or nude scene, which at the very least, makes it worth the price of admission.  Burgess is likeable in the lead, and it’s a shame she only made a handful of films because she equips herself quite nicely.  Likewise, Miles proves to be a winning comedienne, and her performance is proof she could’ve had a bigger career outside of exploitation films.  Fans of The Big Doll House’s Judy Brown will enjoy having another opportunity to see her in the buff too. 

AKA:  Soft Touch.