SEVEN DOORS TO DEATH (1944) ***

Jimmy (Chick Chandler) gets carjacked by a sassy gal named Mary (June Clyde) in his jalopy.  After she escapes, he returns to the scene of the crime and discovers a dead body.  Jimmy does his duty as a citizen and tells the police, but when they arrive on the scene, they discover an entirely different corpse.  Implicated in the crime, Jimmy teams up with Mary to clear his name and find the real killer. 

Seven Doors to Death (which should in no way be confused with Lucio Fulci’s Seven Doors OF Death, the American title for The Beyond) is a surprisingly fun Poverty Row thriller that has slight horror trappings.  (Jimmy and Mary discover a mummy in a basement at one point.)  The title refers to a block of stores where the murder took place that are all connected to the same basement, as well as the theory that the killer could be the proprietor of any one of the seven shops in the complex.  (“Behind one of those doors is a murderer!”)

Director Elmer Clifton (a veteran of many ‘30s scare pictures like Assassin of Youth and Slaves in Bondage) keeps things moving at an acceptable pace.  While it’s not exactly a crackling thriller by any means (the jewel thief subplot was unnecessary), it’s certainly not as creaky as most of these Poverty Row thrillers.  Sure, things get wrapped up way too easily in the end, but it remains fun and enjoyable throughout.  Besides, there are plenty of suspects and/or red herrings to go around such as a knife salesman, a crime enthusiast, and a dimwitted gardener.  That’s enough to keep you guessing who the killer is until the end. 

The performances help enormously too.  Chandler and Clyde make for a fine team, and their bickering and bantering keeps you amused during what could’ve ordinarily been dull dialogue scenes.  Clifton’s background in exploitation shines through during the most memorable scene where a hot brunette performs an impromptu burlesque striptease in the living room (although it’s awfully tame by today’s standards).  

AKA:  Vanishing Corpses.

CRIMSON (1976) ** ½

Paul Naschy stars as a jewel thief who is shot in the head while evading the police.  While on the run, his criminal confederates take him to a shady doctor for medical treatment.  When he is unable to help, he suggests his mad scientist pal can save Naschy’s life.  The only way to do so is an emergency brain transplant and the only person with the same blood type just so happens to be Naschy’s mortal enemy, an unsavory character called “The Sadist”.  The operation is a success, but it does leave Naschy with one pesky side effect:  It gives him the compulsive urge to strangle women. 

Although he has top billing, Naschy spends more than half the movie unconscious and/or offscreen.  Because of that, fans of the man will probably feel shortchanged.  Adding to the disappointment is the fact that despite the film’s Sci-Fi trappings, this is much more of a crime flick than the horror shows he’s known for.  Even when Naschy is up and running around, Crimson never really makes the best use of his talents.  With his blue turtleneck and white bandaged head, he kind of resembles Dengar from The Empire Strikes Back. 

While Crimson suffers from a noticeable lack of Naschy, it still has its share of rewards.  There’s a completely random striptease involving two guys in yellow face ripping clothes off a woman against a ridiculously elaborate China themed backdrop.  We also get a humorous stretch where the criminals have a difficult time decapitating a body, as well as a great bit when the dirty crooks receive the head hidden inside of a birthday present.  We also get a gnarly scene where Naschy’s rivals put out their cigarette butts on a hot blonde, and the surprise reveal of a dead body is rather effective. 

So, it’s a toss-up.  If you want to see a crime caper with a pinch of horror and a dabble of Sci-Fi, then Crimson will be for you.  If on the other hand, you’re looking for a top notch Naschy flick, stick with his werewolf pictures instead. 

AKA:  Crimson, the Color of Terror.  AKA:  The Man with the Severed Head.  AKA:  Crimson, the Color of Blood.

TWO WOMEN IN GOLD (1970) **

Fernande (Monique Mercure) and Violette (Louise Turcot) are two bored Montreal housewives who grow restless with their philandering and/or dull husbands.  They decide to spice up their dreary existence by seducing just about any man they can get a hold of.  The telephone repairman, the milkman, handymen, and delivery boys all become objects of their misplaced affection.  When one of Violette’s lovers dies after a bout of lovemaking, they are accused of murder and quickly become international sensations. 

Directed by Claude (Dan Candy’s Law) Fournier, this Canadian sex comedy is more puzzling than anything else.  It doesn’t matter what side of the border you’re on, the shit in this movie just isn’t funny.  Like at all.  Take for instance the football game that has canned “comedic” sound effects or the random use of a choir singing “Hallelujah” or the shot of a painting of the Queen closing her eyes.  Without the egregious comedy shit, this could’ve been a winner.  Think a maple syrup version of a Joe Sarno flick.  Too bad the comedy derails things every chance it gets. 

Fortunately, the film features scads of T & A, which makes some of the unfunny comedic Canadian shenanigans tolerable.  That said, the sex and/or nude scenes we do get are not very sexy and often are nearly ruined by the intrusive comedy elements.  One memorable scene occurs when a carpet cleaner visits Turcot and his shampooer goes haywire and fills the room with bubbles.  This naturally causes her to strip down and roll around in the suds.  Now, this could’ve been a great sequence, but those hopes are immediately dashed the instant the comic relief cleaning guy starts singing opera.  Mercure and Turcot are plenty sexy and their complete willingness to go au natural at the drop of a hat certainly keeps things afloat. They remain two women in gold even if the movie itself is tarnished by the shitty comedy. 

ATRAGON (1965) **

Agents from the underwater “Mu Empire” (it’s basically a Great Value version of Atlantis) are coming ashore and kidnapping naval personnel.  A couple of cheesecake photographers snap a photo of one of them and wind up becoming embroiled in the intrigue.  Meanwhile, the evil Empress of Mu tries to stop a crazed Captain from launching his state-of-the-art submarine called Gotengo, which she thinks can threaten her empire.  She then unleashes the dragon god “Manda” upon our heroes. 

Atragon is a so-so Sci-Fi flick from Toho.  It was co-directed by inoshiro (Godzilla) Honda, and often plays like a Japanese knockoff of a Jules Verne novel.  It kicks off with a fun scene where a silver scuba diver frightens a bikini model mid-photo shoot.  Unfortunately, all the back and forth between the United Nations and the Navy and the scientists quickly bog things down.  The scenes in the Mu palace are likewise draggy as the various rituals and dance numbers do nothing to help pick up the pace. 

If you came hoping for a cool monster, you’ll probably be disappointed.  In all honesty, Manda is not one of Toho’s most impressive creations.  He’s kind of a cross between a dragon and a sea serpent.  He’s also rubbery-looking and goofy as Hell.  (He almost looks like a barely more competent version of Reptilicus.)  Manda later showed up in the Godzilla films Destroy All Monsters and Final Wars.  At least in those movies, the special effects for the creature were better.  Here, he looks like he could be used as a stunt double for Cecil from Beany and Cecil. 

Gotengo is pretty nifty looking though, as it’s a submarine with a spiral shaped drill on its nose.  And it FLIES!  The final battle between Gotengo and Manda is pretty lackluster though, especially when compared to the other monster mashes Toho was making around the same time. 

The film’s chief asset is the great score from composer Akira Ifukube.  Yes, I know it sounds like a slight reworking of his iconic Godzilla theme.  However, in a movie as uneven as this one you have to take what you can get. 

AKA:  Atoragon.  AKA:  Atoragon:  Flying Supersub.  AKA:  Flying Supersub Atoragon.  AKA:  Undersea Battleship.

ELEVATION (2024) ***

Like rip-offs of Die Hard, A Quiet Place rip-offs are quickly becoming a genre unto themselves.   After the success of that film, we’ve had similarly themed movies about monsters that roam the post-apocalypse and hunt humans in idiosyncratic ways.  Movies like Birdbox, Arcadian, and Never Let Go followed A Quiet Place’s blueprint and changed the rules to their monsters’ quirks and/or weaknesses ever so slightly.  Now here comes Elevation, a surprisingly sturdy variation on the theme. 

The gimmick of this one is that the monsters can’t live above a certain elevation (hence the title).  That means all the survivors took to the hills and started living in the mountains after the shit hit the fan.  Will (Anthony Mackie) has a sick kid and he’s all out of filters for his breathing machine.  That means he’s got to venture across “the line” and go into town for supplies.  He gets a bitter scientist named Nina (Morena Baccarin) to join him on his quest since she’s been trying to find a way to kill the monsters once and for all.  Katie (Maddie Hasson), a pseudo-love interest, also joins the group and sort of acts as a third wheel. 

Director George (The Adjustment Bureau) Nolfi brings a modicum of suspense to the scenes of the survivors trekking through the wilderness.  The “Reapers” look like armor plated cockroaches and charging bulls that have been Brundlefly-ed together.  They aren’t exactly memorable, but they look better than the creatures typically found in these Quiet Place knockoffs.  The script also wisely keeps the logistics of the monsters’ weakness purposefully vague.  The “rules” sometimes feel a bit arbitrary, but they do lead to some suspenseful moments.  I’m thinking specifically of the scene when the creatures hunt their prey by detecting the CO2 the heroes exhale, so they are forced to hold their breath.  

The trio of performers have chemistry to burn, which gives Elevation much of its spirit.  Mackie makes for a solid leading man for this sort of thing.  Baccarin is especially good as the sarcastic scientist who constantly complains and bickers with Hasson. 

Sure, no one reinvented the wheel on this one.  However, if you’re looking for a lean and mean ninety-minute creature feature, then it will fit the bill.  As far as A Quiet Place rip-offs go, Elevation ranks higher than most. 

A WORKING MAN (2025) *** ½

I’ve been seeing a lot of people online griping that “A Working Man is no Beekeeper”.  Fair enough, but that kind of blanket statement undersells just how good the film is.  The fact that it doesn’t quite hit the heights of The Beekeeper should in no way be taken as a slight to A Working Man, the latest collaboration between Jason Statham and director David Ayer.  Saying “A Working Man is no Beekeeper” is like saying “The Magnificent Ambersons is no Citizen Kane”.  That’s true enough, but dude, it’s still The Magnificent fucking Ambersons. 

Statham plays a former soldier working as a humble construction worker.  When his boss’s daughter is kidnapped by Russian slavers, he goes to work.  And by “goes to work”, I mean he blows away a bunch of Russian gangsters, grubby drug dealers, and skeevy bikers. 

Boasting a script co-written by Rambo himself, Sylvester Stallone, A Working Man is a better than average Statham vehicle that gives the audience exactly what they came to see.  Ayer plays to Statham strengths, and Stallone’s script gives him a stoic character that fits him like a glove.  Sure, he doesn’t have the great one-liners like he did in The Beekeeper, but the film is essentially wall to wall action and packed to the gills with scenes of Statham taking out the trash.  Because of that, all is right with the world. 

The supporting cast is strong across the board. Jason Flemyng (Statham’s co-star from his early Guy Ritchie movies) is good as the head of the Russian mob.  David Harbour has a lot of chemistry with Statham as his blind war buddy who acts as a mix of conscience and weapons supplier.  Arriana Rivas is also memorable as the kidnapped girl. 

Is the film perfect?  Well, it runs a little long and some of the action scenes suffer from over-editing and less than optimal camerawork.  (The bulk of the action is A-OK though.)  These are relatively minor quibbles than anything.  At the end of the day, A Working Man gets the job done. 

SNATCHED! CURSE OF THE PINK PANTIES 2 (2010) *

When I stumbled upon this sequel, I had never seen, let alone heard of the wonderfully titled Curse of the Pink Panties.  Since I couldn’t find the original streaming anywhere, I went ahead and watched this one.  Not seeing the first film in a series has never stopped me from checking out its sequel in the past.  Why should I stop now?

A woman tries on a pair of haunted panties and is unable to take them off.  As it turns out, the undies are possessed by the ghosts of some dead criminals.  She is then kidnapped by an evil villainess who wants to control the ghosts for her own devious purposes.  Meanwhile, two girls who survived the Curse of the Pink Panties in the first film launch an unsuccessful web show about their paranormal experiences.  The bad chick eventually kidnaps them too and wants to use their expertise to help harness the ghosts’ energy.  Our heroine’s boyfriend then turns to a busty psychic for help. 

The effects for the spirits of the men who haunt the panties are terrible.  They are nothing more than green-screened faces superimposed over a shot of women’s underwear.  Since these scenes are neither funny nor sexy, one would have to assume that the director had a fetish for seeing men’s faces crudely inserted onto a woman’s bikini area.  Why else would anyone make two movies on the subject, let alone one? 

There are also way too many subplots and characters that bog things down.  It might’ve helped if I saw the first movie, but this one is just saddled with too much rigmarole.  It should be said that while nearly all the ladies in the cast are smoking hot, none of them remove the titular panties (or their bras as a matter of fact).  This chaste aura does nothing to help the film as the running time clocks in at an extremely bloated one-hundred-and-eight-minutes.  I’m not saying nudity could’ve salvaged this mess, but it would’ve taken some of the sting out of it, that’s for sure.  Heck, even if it was a half-hour shorter, it still would’ve been a chore to sit through (especially the finale featuring the overweight guy running around in lingerie).

AKA:  Snatched!