TUBI CONTINUED… THE LOVE STATUE (1965) **

Six years before he made the incredible one-two punch of I Drink Your Blood and Stigma, writer/director David E. Durston helmed this ho-hum mash-up of the skin flick and drug trip genres.  There isn’t much here that suggests the greatness to come however, as it’s pretty much your average, run-of-the-mill sexploitation flick.  It also doesn’t help that the sex scenes are all rather tame.  (We get a little bit of side boob, but that’s about it.)  I guess this would’ve been okay if the drug trip scenes were worth a damn, but even they are a big bust as the main special effect is the use of a fly eye lens and/or a blurry kaleidoscope filter on the camera.

Tyler (Peter Ratray) is a struggling artist who is stuck in a rut.  He feels stifled by his overbearing exotic dancer girlfriend, Lisa (Beti Seay) who treats him like garbage.  His friend Stan (Harvey J. Goldenberg) introduces him to a sexy Japanese club dancer named Mashiko (Hisako Tsukuba) who turns him onto LSD.  During his first trip, he imagines that a statute of a woman (Gigi Darlene from Bad Girls Go to Hell) comes to life and seduces him.  Once Tyler awakens from a three-day drug-induced stupor, he is shocked to learn Lisa has been murdered.  Did he kill her when he was trapped in an altered state?  Or is someone trying to frame him?  

The beatnik characters are all pretty loathsome and irritating.  Not even their silly slang-heavy dialogue can make it worthwhile.  The final confrontation is downright laughable too.  

Tsukuba is a real presence though, and her charisma makes The Love Statue at the very least, watchable.  She gave up acting shortly after starring in the movie and turned her sights to producing.  In fact, she went on to produce every single Piranha movie!  Seay is kinda hot too as the surly girlfriend, and Darlene is sexy as always, even if her talents are never fully utilized.

AKA:  The Love Drug.  AKA:  The Love Statue:  LSD Experience.  AKA:  The Stature.  

TUBI CONTINUED… FORTRESS OF THE DEAD (1965) ** ½

John Hackett stars as Frank, an American veteran who returns to the Philippines twenty years after being the lone survivor of a devastating military battle.  His buddy Joe (Conrad Parham) gives him a tour of the battlefield which has since become a national monument.  While Frank takes in the desolate scenery, he tries to reconcile his wartime trauma.  Once he forgives himself for not being able to save his fellow soldiers, he starts trying to live again.  Soon after, he meets a sexy fisherwoman (Anakorita) and takes her back to the site to show her around.  It's here where he begins to suspect something sinister is awaiting him on the island.  

Fortress of the Dead is a low key, bleak, and sporadically effective combination of WWII drama and ghost story.  While it mostly plays like an overlong episode of The Twilight Zone, it definitely has its moments, especially if you are a patient viewer.  Writer/director Ferde (The Day of the Wolves) Grofe Jr. gets a lot of mileage out of the war-torn locations as the hollowed-out structures and rusting military weaponry lends the film a unique sense of atmosphere.  It’s a slow burner to be sure, and nothing really supernatural happens until the closing minutes, but I must admit, I was relatively entertained throughout.

It's well-acted too, which certainly helps keep you invested when the plot is spinning its wheels.  Hackett, who resembles a mash-up of John Astin and Lee J. Cobb, doesn’t do anything showy in the lead role, but he hits his marks effectively, and gets the job done.  Anakorita also injects the movie with a lot of vivacious personality once her character enters the story.  She’s sexy and playful and looks terrific (especially in her wet T-shirt).  They have a lot of chemistry together, and their combined efforts help make the third act play a little better than expected.

AKA:  Soul of a Fortress.

TUBI CONTINUED… THE WITCH’S CURSE (1963) ** ½

After having a blast with Fire Monsters Against the Son of Hercules, I decided to give another Maciste adventure a try.  This one isn’t quite as “good” as that one, but I’ll be damned if there wasn’t some jaw-dropping, head-scratching, WTF shit going on here.  It ain’t any great shakes, but it’ll do in a pinch.  

Directed by Riccardo (The Horrible Dr. Hitchcock) Freda, the atmospheric opening owes a big debt to Black Sunday.  A witch is burned at the stake in 16th century Scotland, and with her dying breath, she places a curse on the town.  A hundred years goes by, and an ominous tree has now grown in the very spot where she was burned alive.  A descendent of the witch comes to town to spend her honeymoon, and when the locals learn of her heritage, they grab their pitchforks and set out to burn her at the stake too.  

Just when things seem at their bleakest, and there’s no hope in sight for the poor, innocent woman, out of nowhere comes… THE ITALIAN MUSCLEMAN MACISTE?  Yes!  He comes riding into the town square on horseback, leaps from his saddle, tosses guards around like ragdolls, bends her prison bars, and tries to rescue her.

This sequence is fucking nuts.  You’ll swear you accidentally changed the channel about twenty minutes into the movie.  It goes from Witchfinder General to Hercules Unchained in 0 to 60 flat.  It’s fucking ridiculous.  I loved it.  

Anyway, she’s put on trial for witchcraft, and the only way for Maciste to save her is to go to Hell… LITERALLY!  In the underworld, he fights lions, witnesses giant orgies, lifts heavy boulders, and brings down a burning gate.  Like most Hercules movies, there’s a hot babe who loves him and makes him have amnesia, so he’ll love her too.  Eventually, he looks into a pool and watches a clip show package from a bunch of other Hercules/Maciste movies, remembers who he is, and gets back down to business.  

The first half-hour or so had me thinking this was going to be a classic.  However, once Maciste goes to Hell, it becomes rather straightforward.  It checks all the usual peplum boxes, to be sure, and yet, it severely lacks the manic WTF energy of the early going.  Still, there’s enough cheesy moments here (like when Maciste singlehandedly fends off a cattle stampede using a log) to make it mostly worthwhile.

AKA:  Maciste in Hell.  AKA:  Maciste Fights for Survival.  

TUBI CONTINUED… FIRE MONSTERS AGAINST THE SON OF HERCULES (1962) ***

It’s been a while since I’ve watched some good old fashioned Italian peplum.  So, when the Tubi algorithm recommended this one to me, I decided to dive right in.  This is one of those “Sons of Hercules” movies, which is just an informal banner that TV stations used back in the day when they wanted to show an obscure Italian muscleman movie.  Since most American couch potatoes had no idea who a character like “Maciste” was, the distributors redubbed him as the more badass sounding “Maxus” and added narration at the beginning explaining he was one of the many “Sons of Hercules”.  They did this to a lot of Togaploitation flicks in the ‘60s, and most of them suck, but I have to admit, I dug the hell out of this one.

Heck, Fire Monsters Against the Son of Hercules doesn’t even take place in ancient Greece.  It’s actually a prehistoric action flick as all the characters are more or less dumb cavemen.  At any rate, it’s still a lot of fun.  

Maxus is portrayed by Reg Lewis, who shouldn’t to be confused with Reg Park, who was also Maciste in Maciste in King Solomon’s Mines, and who actually played Hercules in Hercules and the Captive Women (among others).  That’s right, folks!  Not only is this a Fake Hercules movie, it stars a Fake Reg!  I love it.  

Anyway, Maxus saves a guy from a sea serpent.  Since he was the son of the leader of the “Sun Tribe”, they offer him a chance to rule their kingdom (or at least their cave).  Naturally, Maxus refuses and goes on his merry way.  When the warring “Moon Tribe” ransacks their village and kidnaps their womenfolk, the Sun Tribe seeks Maxus’ help to get them back.  

The monsters are awful.  Or awesome.  Depending on your point of view.  Either way, you’ll be laughing hysterically during the scenes where Maxus does battle with them.  The sea monster looks like a cross between the Loch Ness Monster and a Pound Puppy.  He actually looks kind of cute, and it’s a shame that Maxus tosses a spear in its eye, causing it to erupt in a geyser of blood.  Someone get Sarah McLachlan on the phone!  In fact, most of the monsters are just kind of standing around minding their own business and not really bothering anyone when Maxus just rushes in and kills them for no good reason.  Not a good look, Hercules… err… Maxus.  

Oh, and none of the monsters breathe fire as suggested by the title, which is kind of misleading.  Then again, Maxus isn’t really a “Son” of Hercules either.  So, there’s TWO lies in the title right there!  Did I mention I love this movie?

Despite the constant untruths suggested by the title, there is some good shit here.  Even if you go in expecting a typical toga fest, the cavemen battles are a lot of fun.  Plus, there’s still plenty of the typical schtick found in a Hercules flick (columns are toppled, heavy boulders are lifted, guys pile on our hero and he throws them through the air with a single shrug, etc.) to keep fans of Italian peplum satisfied.  My favorite part though was the chorus line of sexy cavewomen dancers who perform Vegas-style showgirl numbers while draped in fur pelts.  I mean, what more do you want from a movie?  

AKA:  Maciste vs. the Monsters.  AKA:  Colossus of the Stone Age.  AKA:  Land of the Monsters.

TUBI CONTINUED… THE ROTTEN APPLE (1963) *

Ben (Will Gregory) is on his way to San Francisco with his wife (Gaye Gordon) and baby in tow.  When his car breaks down on the highway, he leaves his wife and kid on the side of the road and heads to a junkyard looking for parts.  As soon as he arrives, the creepy owner Harry (Paul Leder) begins harassing him.  Soon after, Harry’s sleazy wife Sally (Rue McClanahan) starts sexually harassing him.  Harry eventually pushes Ben too far and thus begins a game of cat and mouse, culminating in a violent confrontation.

The only memorable part of this dull thriller is when Leder addresses the audience and says he only took the role because the studio insisted it had a basis in fact.  This is complete bullshit however since Leder himself co-wrote the script!  I have a feeling this was only added because he wanted to assure everyone that he isn’t really a disgusting, despicable creep like he plays in the movie.  (Either that, or they needed to pad the running time out to hit the eighty-minute mark.)  

Overwrought and overdramatic, the whole movie boils down to nothing more than a bunch of icky characters yelling at one another while sweating profusely.  The scenes with future Golden Girl McClanahan feel like a cheap version of a Tennessee Williams play as she breathlessly yammers on about how it only takes five minutes to do the nasty.  (The original title was Five Minutes to Love.)  Heck, even the “good” guys are rather unpleasant, which doesn’t exactly make for an enjoyable viewing experience.  

Scene after scene of people screaming their heads off at one another quickly grows tiresome.  The part where the junkie runs off at the mouth about God knows what seemingly goes on forever.  The only reason anyone would probably want to watch it is to see Rue in her prime playing a hooker.  I did enjoy seeing King (the “TORTURE!” guy from Teenagers from Outer Space) Moody (who also went on to play Ronald McDonald!) as Leder’s right-hand man though, and the groovy jazz soundtrack is decent.

Director John Hayes went on to do much better Grave of the Vampire.  He was dating McClanahan at the time and directed her in the only slightly less irritating Hollywood After Dark.  Leder went on to direct such classics as I Dismember Mama and A*P*E.  Despite their best efforts, this Apple is Rotten to the core.  

AKA:  It Only Takes Five Minutes.  AKA:  Five Minutes to Love.

TUBI CONTINUED… THE PLATINUM PUSSYCAT (1968) **

Dena (Sandy Roberts) is a sexy blonde who is framed for murder and becomes embroiled in international espionage.  A detective named Mike (Jeff Baker) reluctantly takes her case and pounds the pavement for answers.  When Dena is kidnapped by some gangsters, it’s up to Mike to rescue her.  

I know that’s kind of a barebones plot description, but you have to understand that about 75% of The Platinum Pussycat is just flat-out incoherent.  It’s one part detective story, one part spy caper, and one part skin flick.  There’s a lot going on in the story, but nothing ever really happens.  It’s all one big jumble, and it’s often difficult for the mind to catalogue just what is occurring on screen in any given scene.  

Like most ‘60s sexploitation cheapies, it has crisp black and white cinematography and out-of-synch sound.  While some of the dubbing is good for a laugh, the constant narration and voiceovers make things a lot more confusing than they needed to be.  (I could be wrong, but it sounded like one of the voices on the soundtrack was Coleman Francis.)  The whiplash-inducing editing is also frustrating and often prevents the viewer from understanding what should’ve otherwise been a straightforward scene.  

I was tempted to give this a lower rating, but there were a few noteworthy moments that kept this hovering around the Two Stars mark.  One is the random color sex scene that appears for no good reason about halfway through the movie involving a greasy guy getting it on with two hookers.  I also liked the scene where Baker gets the drop on the bad guys while wearing a wetsuit and shoots them with a speargun.  (I think this was part of the James Bond influence.)  However, these scenes are fleeting, as most of the running time is devoted to long stretches where nothing happens and short stretches where way too much happens.  

Even though much of it doesn’t make a lick of sense, there is a lot of skin here, so that’s always a good thing.  

The co-director was Edward L. Montoro.  He only directed one more movie (the Uschi Digard comedy, Getting into Heaven) before going on to create Film Ventures International.  He later took millions from the company and disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.  He’s such a legendary figure in the world of cult filmmaking, I’m surprised nobody’s made a movie about him yet.

AKA:  The Losers.  AKA:  The Pink Pussycat.  

TUBI CONTINUED… A FRENCH MAID IN SAN FRANCISCO (1981) ** ½

A French Maid in San Francisco is a very strange movie.  Or should I say it’s a very strange presentation of a movie.  It’s an edited hardcore sex flick, which is kind of surprising to find on Tubi.  But it gets weirder.  All the voices have been completely redubbed.  That might not sound weird, but it’s obvious that the soundtrack, music, and dialogue were replaced recently, and not at the time of production.  No one put much effort into it either, as the dubbing is worse than your average Kung Fu actioner.  Also, some dialogue scenes are repeated, and there are flashbacks to stuff we’ve just seen that add to the overall fever dream aesthetic.   

Julia Perrin stars as Julia, an eighteen-year-old French girl who comes to San Francisco and finds work with a maid service.  Her first client is an old dude who has over a hundred cats.  It seems weird from the start, but she heads for the hills when the old perv wants her to wear sexy lingerie.  Her next job is with a family that has a horny teenage daughter, who naturally seduces Julia.  Things get complicated when her mother’s lover (Herschel Savage) joins in on the fun.  Next up is a family with a grandpa who tells Civil War stories and waves the Dixie flag whenever he gets a blowjob.  Julia’s final client is a scientist (played by John Leslie) who falls in love with her, and eventually, they get married.

The movie already had an odd vibe to it as it is.  (There’s a picture of Father Guido Sarducci hanging in the employment office.)  The re-release fiddling just adds to the overall weirdness.  The funky fashions (Perrin wears what looks to be an astronaut suit when we first meet her) also lend themselves nicely to the strange mood.  I mean, I can’t say it’s “good”, but it’s certainly memorable and offbeat.  

Perrin has a sexy Christina Lindberg-type quality about her and carries the film rather well.  She also figures into the hottest scene in the movie when she makes out with her image in the mirror.  I can only imagine how this sequence played in its original version as it is pretty steamy in this edited form.  The scene where she masturbates and fantasizes that Leslie is yelling at her from a black void is less effective, however.  Leslie is as amusing as ever, but it’s Savage who gets the wildest line of the whole flick when he tells Perrin, “Don’t you know you can get cancer from making it with a lesbian?”

AKA:  She’ll Do Alright.  AKA:  Love Dreams.