THE MYSTERY OF HURRICANE RAMIREZ (1962) ** ½

 

After sitting through a couple dozen El Santo movies, I decided to give the films of Mexican luchador Hurricane Ramirez a try.  His self-titled debut picture is notable for being the first lucha libre movie ever made.  It’s also notable for the fact that an actor, David Silva, plays the unmasked secret identity while the real Hurricane Ramirez does the wrestling.

This sequel, which was released nine years later, finds Hurricane in hot water with a gangster known as El Principe (Carlos Agosti) who is obsessed with uncovering his true identity.  He even goes so far as to performing an assassination attempt on him while he’s wrestling in an arena!  It’s then up to Hurricane to stay one step ahead of the gangster and his trigger-happy goons.

Since The Mystery of Hurricane Ramirez was made at a time when the genre was still in its infancy, it’s easy to overlook some of the stumbling blocks that prevent it from being a first-rate lucha libre flick.  Some of the dialogue scenes are a bit of a slog (especially when you consider the version I saw didn’t have subtitles) and the gangster villain is kind of boring too.  Future lucha libre movies would rectify this by featuring monsters as villains, but since there are appearances by heel wrestlers with names like “Frankenstein” and “Lobo Negro”, you get a sense the filmmakers were already sort of testing the waters.

The B plot about Hurricane’s family struggling to keep their diner afloat is actually sort of snappy, thanks to the completely random musical number in which the harried waitress breaks out into song while at work.  The shots of her and her boyfriend twisting like there’s no tomorrow is definitely good for a chuckle or two.  I also enjoyed the scene where the little boy (who is also a junior judo expert and aspiring luchador) sang a lullaby to his siblings. 

The wrestling scenes themselves are kind of hit-and-miss.  That’s mostly due to the fact that one long scene involves the little kid donning a mask in an attempt to become a real wrestler.  I did like the scene though when Silva’s buddy wears the Hurricane Ramirez mask to impress a girl.  Naturally, he winds up getting jumped by El Principe and his men and the real Hurricane has to come and save his bacon. 

While a little spotty in places, The Mystery of Hurricane Ramirez is a better-than-fair attempt.  It put a silly smile on my face, which is about the best one can hope for in these trying times.  It’s just good enough for me to want to check out the rest of Hurricane Ramirez’s filmography, which I hope to do ASAP.

BLOOD OF GHASTLY HORROR (1973) *

 

Okay, so this is my third go-around with (almost) the same movie in a twenty-four-hour period.  It’s a bad sign when I’m only four movies into this Al Adamson box set and my brain is already turning into mush.

Speaking of mush-for-brains, Akro (Richard Smedley), a green-faced zombie, stumbles around on a killing spree.  He mails the head of a cop to detective Tommy Kirk (the ex-Disney star looks pretty out of it), who then relates flashbacks from Psycho a Go Go (and Fiend with the Electronic Brain).  We eventually learn Carradine’s daughter (played by Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol) is being targeted by another mad scientist (Kent Taylor) who commands Akro, his zombie servant to abduct her.  It’s then up to Kirk to rescue her before Kent can make her into his latest experiment.    

The make-up on the zombie is pathetic.  I mean it looks like they just slapped Play-Doh over his eye, painted him green, and mussed his hair and called it a day.  Your little sister could do a better job.  He does rack up a decent body count in his limited screen time though. 

At least there’s more original footage here than there was in Fiend with the Electronic Brain.  (About thirty-five minutes in all.)  Unfortunately, it’s cheap looking, dull, and indifferently edited.  The finale is particularly lame.  Not only is Carrol’s transformation scene hokey, she also calls Akro “Arko”, which is pretty funny.  Oh, and this time out, “Christy” the blackface doll isn’t billed in the credits.

Too bad we still have stomach about fifty minutes of Psycho a Go Go and Fiend with the Electronic Brain in the form of flashbacks.  If you thought the boring-ass diamond heist plotline was dreary the first time around, let me tell you, it’s downright coma-inducing the third time.  It’s puzzling to me that Adamson was so confident in this weak material that he would try to repackage it time and time again in hopes of it finally working.  I guess I admire his persistence, but he really should’ve moved on and tried to do something new instead of spending so many years trying to polish (and re-polish) this turd. 

 

As a bonus, I dusted off an archival review of Blood of Ghastly Horror I wrote on my old site.  Even though it was posted in 2007, it’s quite possible I wrote it earlier than that.  I can’t remember.  Heck, I don’t even remember writing the review.  I must’ve REALLY hated it back then to give it NO STARS at the time.  I’ve only made some minor corrections here and there, but this is how it originally appeared thirteen years ago:

BLOOD OF GHASTLY HORROR  (1973)  NO STARS

Director Al Adamson has done all kinds of B Movies: biker movies (Satan’s Sadists), blaxploitation (Black Samurai), and softcore sex (The Naughty Stewardesses) just to name a few.  This mess is the worst Adamson film I’ve ever seen (so far).  It’s actually three Adamson movies edited into one.  It’s one part heist movie, one part Frankenstein rip-off and another part zombie movie. 

Here’s the plot.  See if you can stay with me:  A zombie rips a man’s head off.  He MAILS it to cop Tommy (Catalina Caper!) Kirk (!!!) who tells a story about a robbery.  One of the thieves, Joe gets killed and mad scientist John Carradine gives him an electronic brain and brings him back to life.  Joe kills a woman and then blows up Carradine!  Joe’s father, a doctor in Jamaica, uses Akro the zombie to kidnap Carradine’s daughter, and plans to turn her into a zombie to get revenge.  Then Kirk tells another story of a botched heist Joe did, but the editing, lighting, and acting are so bad, I’m not even sure what the hell happened in that scene!  In the finale, the doctor changes her into a zombie and when the jealous Akro kills him, she turns back to normal.  The End.  Wow. 

You’ll have an ice cream headache for three days after watching this movie.  Also starring the director’s wife, Regina Carrol.  Adamson also did Blood of Dracula’s Castle. 

AKA:  Psycho A Go-Go.  AKA: Man with the Synthetic Brain.  AKA:  The Love Maniac. 

FIEND WITH THE ELECTRONIC BRAIN (1967) * ½

After Al Adamson’s Psycho a Go Go failed to meet much success, producer Sam Sherman attempted to sell the picture directly to television.  The distributor was uninterested in a crappy crime thriller.  They wanted a horror picture.  So, Adamson agreed to add new footage of a mad scientist (played by John Carradine) in an attempt to make the strangle-happy jewel thief played by Roy Morton a product of some Frankenstein-type shenanigans. 

In this version, Morton is no longer just a loose cannon who gets his kicks by killing women.  Now he’s a dead Vietnam vet who was brought back to life by Carradine as a part of his illicit experiments.  The new footage, which amounts to about twelve minutes, is nicely shot and benefits from a fine performance by Carradine, who lends a touch of gravitas missing from the original version.  It also helps that Morton also appears in the newly shot scenes, which doesn’t make them seem as superfluous as you might expect.  The chintzy lab equipment is also amusing.  (It looks like it was installed in a men’s room.)

The downside to all this, is… you guessed it… you still have to watch Psycho a Go Go in its entirety… again… and boy, if you thought those scenes were a chore to get through the first time around, they’re even tougher to sit through a second time.  Thankfully, Adamson didn’t cut out the go-go song and dance numbers, so those scenes, along with the new Carradine footage, is enough to make this marginally better than its original iteration.  That said, it’s still far from Adamson’s best.

Incredibly enough, this wasn’t Adamson’s last rodeo with the material.  He would later add new footage (AGAIN) to the movie and rerelease it as Blood of Ghastly Horror.  As you’re probably aware, the third time was not the charm.

AKA:  Man with the Synthetic Brain.  AKA:  The Love Maniac.

PSYCHO A GO GO (1965) *

 

Five years after co-directing Half Way to Hell, Al Adamson piecemealed together funds to make his solo directing debut with a low budget crime drama called Echo of Terror.  It failed to gain traction, but when it was recommended that Adamson cash-in on the go-go dancing craze that was sweeping the nation, he readily added in some gratuitous scenes of go-go dancers shaking their moneymakers to the groovy sounds of a not-bad lounge singer.  It’s funny because these sequences that were only tacked on after the fact are far and away the best thing about the film. 

A botched diamond heist results in the death of a thief (Adamson) at the hands of his crazed partner Joe (Roy Morton).  In a panic, the robbers toss the bag of loot off a balcony as the cops close in.  The bag happens to land in the bed of a truck belonging to David (Kirk Duncan), who unwittingly comes home with the loot.  The gang then tracks him down and tries to force him to give up the stones.  When THAT goes south, Joe goes after David’s wife (Tacey Robbins) and kid (K.K. Riddle).

The film goes downhill almost immediately after the cool go-go dance number.  The heist scene at the beginning is so-so at best, but it’s unfortunately the only passable action scene in the entire movie.  (It mostly feels like a cold open to a forgettable ‘60s cop show.)  Sadly, it only gets worse from there as the scenes of the hot-tempered thieves arguing with one another and threatening our hero get monotonous in a hurry.  Things pretty much come to a dead halt during the long, dull sequence where the villain pursues the hero’s wife and daughter through the wilderness.  In fact, I’m pretty sure the Earth stopped spinning on its axis during this scene. 

Thank goodness for those go-go scenes or else this would be totally without merit.  I’m sure if the original version of Echo of Terror existed in some form, Severin Films would’ve issued it as part of the Al Adamson Masterpiece Collection.  I’m sort of glad they didn’t because I can’t imagine watching this mess without at least one go-go dance number to numb the pain.

You can derive some humor from the fact our hero gives his daughter a painfully politically incorrect “minstrel” doll for her birthday that sings songs like “Oh Susanna” in an Alvin and the Chipmunks voice. (The doll even gets its own billing!)  That’s about it as far as the WTF factor goes.  On the plus side, Vilmos Zsigmond was the cinematographer, so at the very least, it’s nice to look at.

AKA:  Echo of Terror.  AKA:  Rififi a Go Go.

THE GIRL IN ROOM 2A (1974) ** ½

When you see the name Dick Randall in the opening credits, you prepare yourself for something special.  After all, this is the man who was largely responsible for such classics as The Clones of Bruce Lee, For Your Height Only, and Pieces.  He produced and co-directed (albeit uncredited) this Italian/American co-production, and while it’s not as sleazy as some of his best stuff, it does contain healthy dashes of nudity and blood.  That’s not quite enough to make it a classic or anything, but it’s an acceptable way to kill 84 minutes. 

Daniella Giordano stars as a woman fresh out of prison who goes to stay at a creepy old boardinghouse.  Before long, she starts having visions of a killer in a red mask and cloak.  There’s also a matter of a bloodstain on the floor that keeps reappearing.  Is it all in her head, or is someone trying to drive her mad?  When the brother of the previous tenant comes snooping around the place, he teams up with Giordano to get to the bottom of the mystery. 

Although the film has the look and feel of an Italian giallo, it’s largely lacking the big murder set pieces that are hallmarks of the genre (outside the opening murder sequence, that is).  There’s more of a Polanski influence than anything else as there are scenes reminiscent of both Repulsion and Rosemary’s Baby.  The hooded killer also similar to the one found in Torso, which was released the year before.  (The music is kind of similar too.) 

Overall, this isn’t bad as far as this sort of thing goes.  Giordano makes for a likeable lead, and Rosalba (Lady Frankenstein) Neri and Karin (Black Venus) Schubert help to up the eye candy factor.  The scenes of nudity and violence that bookend the film are solid, and the mystery-solving sequences in between are OK too.  It’s just that it never quite kicks into gear and puts the pedal to the metal the way Randall’s best stuff does.  In short, Room 2A is worth a rental but you wouldn’t want to live there. 

AKA:  The Girl in 2A.

THE CAPE CANAVERAL MONSTERS (1960) ** ½

 

Alien lifeforms in the shape of glowing dots possess the bodies of a pair of freshly dead car accident victims and set out to sabotage rocket launchings occurring at Cape Canaveral.  Meanwhile, teenage scientists who are working on the rocket tests pick up a strange reading on their transmitters.  They think the source of the transmissions are the cause of the disturbances, but of course the adults on the team don’t believe them.  They soon set out to prove the grown-ups wrong and run smack dab into the aliens’ plot.

Robot Monster gets all the glory, but for my money, this one is director Phil Tucker’s masterpiece (although that’s not saying a whole lot).  The Cape Canaveral Monsters was his final movie, and it has an undercurrent of black humor and gore than would soon permeate throughout the horror genre.  There’s a funny running gag where an alien keeps loses his arm and his mate has to help him reattach it.  (The scene where a guard dog rips his arm off, and a security guard nonchalantly brings it back to the lab is great.)  Of course, the aliens need fresh bodies to repair their wounds and they go out cruising for teenage victims.

Like Robot Monster, The Cape Canaveral Monsters is padded with stock footage.  Whereas Tucker went overboard with the stock footage in Robot Monster, the shots of rocket take-offs aren’t too bad in this one.  (The scene where a rocket unexpectedly explodes is surprisingly effective.)  Like Robot Monster, the aliens set up shop in a cave and use a machine to communicate with their leader.  The machine in this one is hilarious as it looks like a fishbowl sitting on top of a water heater.

I also loved how the teenage characters flock to lovers’ lane when they aren’t busy performing rocket science.  I mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to star in a low budget sci-fi movie, but it certainly helps.  I got a good laugh from the scene where the doctor chastises them for flirting in the lab and they say, “C’mon doc!  This isn’t Germany!”  My favorite line of dialogue though came when the alien was about to operate on one of the humans and said, “She’s unconscious now, but earthlings are strange!”

While The Cape Canaveral Monsters has an OK premise and a decent amount of intentional (and otherwise) laughs, it runs out of steam at about the forty-five minute mark; roughly about the time when the alien finally attaches a permanent arm for himself.  Sluggish finale aside, it’s rather amusing as far as no-frills early ‘60s Sci-Fi goes.  It’s certainly more consistent than Tucker’s better-known Robot Monster, that’s for sure.

This movie is also vaguely connected to our Al Adamson August celebration, although not quite enough to make it an official entry.  For years, Adamson was erroneously reported to be in the film, but it’s actually Lyle Felice, who played Escobar in Adamson’s Half Way to Hell, who essays his role.  Jerry Warren fans (if there is such a thing) will also get a kick out of seeing Katherine Victor from The Wild World of Batwoman playing the female accident victim/alien.

HALF WAY TO HELL (1960) **

 

Half Way to Hell is Al Adamson’s first feature as a director.  He co-directed the film with his father, Victor, a longtime B western vet whose career spanned all the way back to the silent era.  It’s interesting because it is very much a hybrid.  It was made in 1960, but it often looks and feels like it came out thirty years prior.  From the old timey font used in the opening crawl, to the raggedy look of the film stock, to the chintzy music on the soundtrack, it feels like an early talkie much of the time.

It’s also pretty bad too.  I don’t know why they just didn’t go all the way to Hell with this one.  I mean, they were already half way there.

Only occasionally do we get a taste of the junior Adamson’s cinematic flair (or lack thereof).  A few scenes have stark close-ups that run incongruent of the creaky set-ups found elsewhere in the picture.  The most notable anachronistic touch is Al himself.  While most actors in the film feel like they stepped out of a B oater from the ‘30s, Al’s performance as the slimy villain feels similar to some of the despicable character we’d see later on in the ‘60s in the work of Peckinpah.  (IMDb misidentifies his character as “Escobar”, but he actually plays “Slade” under the pseudonym “Rick Adams”.)  He’s sweaty, grimy, and has a demented grin on his face.  (He sort of resembles an unhinged Arch Hall, Jr.)  No matter how spotty the overall quality of the movie gets, it does come to life whenever Adamson is front and center as his off-kilter energy brings a much-needed breath of fresh air to the proceedings. 

The plot is interesting at least.  A woman is on the run from her domineering fiancée who wants her to live a life of servitude.  While on the trail, she comes along a wandering cowboy whose horse threw a shoe and gives him a ride.  When her husband’s men get the drop on the carriage, they kidnap her and leave the cowboy for dead.  Eventually, the dazed cowpoke comes to his senses and sets out to rescue her. 

While the western action is thoroughly routine, the notion of a woman escaping her traditional way of life is very progressive for the time.  Like Adamson’s performance, it feels like something you would’ve seen later in the decade.  I’m not sure if Adamson intended this sort of progressive slant when he co-wrote the script, but it’s certainly possible as many of the female leads in his later work were stronger than what was usually depicted in the typical drive-in fare of the day. 

While there are some sparks here and there, for the most part, Half Way to Hell is a slog.  It’s only 67 minutes, but it feels longer than The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.  I guess we could chalk that up to Adamson not being in full creative control of the picture, as he had to share the directorial duties with his father.  However, there are enough glints of promise here that prelude Adamson’s future work.

The pokey pacing threatens to stall out the film at many junctures, but it comes surprisingly to life during the final act.  It’s here when we have not one but two bullwhip duels that pack a real punch.  These scenes are definitely edgier, leaner, and meaner than the stuff found earlier in the film.  Heck, there’s even a genuine surprise to be had in the finale.  This crisp bit of filmmaking isn’t enough to salvage the movie, but it is a nice glimpse of things to come.