THE CHANGELING -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle

 Originally posted on 8/2/18

 

One of the last of the "pure" ghost stories to appear on the big screen, 1980's THE CHANGELING (Severin Films) is noteworthy for its intent to send chills up and down our spines without resorting to any graphic violence or gore, and with hardly a jump scare to be found.  

The premise, reportedly based on actual events, is simple: composer and music teacher John Russell (George C. Scott), deeply grieving the tragic loss of his wife and daughter, moves into a massive old mansion that turns out to be haunted.

His raw emotional state seems to attract a troubled spirit within the house, which reaches out to him.  As frightening paranormal events continue to frazzle his nerves and ours, John and a sympathetic lady friend, Claire (Scott's real-life wife Trish Van Devere), endeavor to solve the mystery behind whoever may have died violently in the house and is now a restless and potentially dangerous supernatural entity.

There's a vaguely Argento quality to this setup (DEEP RED comes to mind), but director Peter Medak (ROMEO IS BLEEDING, THE KRAYS) intends to scare us using only images and situations rather than shocking violence or gouts of blood.  It's like a campfire tale that's effective because of evocative storytelling alone.

Still, the visuals are key, especially the huge, three-storey mansion that's so full of deep shadows, long passageways, endless stairways, and one of those hidden rooms accidentally discovered by our hero which is creepy, cobwebby, and stocked with disturbing clues including a child's ancient wheelchair. (A couple of ghostly manifestations are also highly effective.)

George C. Scott, of course, is about as good in the role as anyone could be, revealing the occasional insight into John Russell's unending grief while giving the impression that he's much too rational and in control to let a little thing like a haunted house scare him away.

Indeed, it's the intrigue of the murder mystery he's stumbled upon that keeps him there--when most of us would be out the door at the first errant creak--along with a growing sympathy for the ghostly, unknown victim of whatever terrible crime occurred there.

To this end, Russell and Claire enlist the aid of a female medium and her husband/assistant for a late night seance which proves to be one of the film's eeriest sequences.

Further clues in the mystery later lead them to tear up the floorboards of a nearby house where they discover an abandoned well which may hide a horrible secret. This is dark stuff from which director Medak derives every possible shivery scare.

Medak's visual style is mostly low-key and formal, with very little use of handheld camera and, at times, a bit of the coldness of Cronenberg's early work.  The influence on later ghost stories such as THE OTHERS is clear, as both films show a reliance on the supernatural as well as a bleak, shadow-strewn setting in evoking fear the old-fashioned way.

The film does herald an unfortunate future trend in ghost stories, which is the use of loud noises and sometimes raucous visuals in order to elevate the fear factor.  One of the eeriest scenes in the film uses neither--John is sitting at his piano, unaware that a door behind him is slowly opening. We expect the maid or handyman to be standing there when it swings open wide, but there's no one there at all.

THE CHANGELING resorts to sound and fury mostly during the finale, adding wind and fire effects and slow-motion for no apparent reason except to give us something to occupy our attention after the mystery has already been resolved and the actual scare factor pretty much faded out.

In fact, it has always been this final segment of the film that I found most unsatisfying ever since my first viewing during its initial theatrical run in 1980. But one or two people in the group I saw it with found it deeply frightening throughout.

This indicates that some, such as myself, will find THE CHANGELING a mostly, if not completely, effective old-fashioned ghost story with more than its share of chills but a not-quite-effective conclusion.  And others will sit in rapt, fearful, goose-pimpled thrall, holding their breath till the last flickering frame. 


Buy it from Severin Films

SPECIAL FEATURES:
Special Features:
Audio Commentary With Director Peter Medak and Producer Joel B. Michaels Moderated By Severin Films’ David Gregory
The House On Cheesman Park: The Haunting True Story Of The Changeling
The Music Of The Changeling: Interview With Music Arranger Kenneth Wannberg
Building The House Of Horror: Interview With Art Director Reuben Freed
The Psychotronic Tourist: The Changeling
Master of Horror Mick Garris On The Changeling
Poster & Still Gallery
Trailer
TV Spot

THE CHANGELING -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle

HORRORS OF SPIDER ISLAND -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle

  Originally posted on 6/12/20

 

Poor Gary--just when he achieves every man's fondest fantasy (well, many of us, anyway) of being the only guy stranded in a remote location with a bevy of beautiful babes, he gets bitten by a big, hairy mutant arachnid and becomes one of the HORRORS OF SPIDER ISLAND (Severin Films, 1960).

These days a film like this German trash classic is usually described as "cheesy", which, admittedly, is rather apt since it's cheap, it's goofy, and it has all the dramatic gravitas of a dime-store sex and horror pulp novel come to sordid life.

It's main qualities are either pros or cons, depending on your point of view. Bad movie fans will love the dumb dialogue and situations, florid performances, and overheated plot that has its over-emoting cast either engaged in steamy sex clinches or running from hairy, fanged monsters through the jungle.  

 
The plane crash scene is especially amusing as it consists of stock footage of a burning plane intercut with random closeups of women screaming comically in front of a black background.

But it also has some nice black-and-white photography which at times is actually quite good, as well as actual outdoor locations and some very attractive actresses portraying the stranded women whose plane went down on its way to a gig in Singapore under the supervision of manly showbiz producer Gary (Alexander D’Arcy, THE AWFUL TRUTH, BLOOD OF DRACULA'S CASTLE) and his partner and romantic interest, Georgia (Helga Franck), a stern woman who isn't above bitch-slapping the more unruly gals when they step out of line.

Chief among these is the lush, plush blonde mega-babe Babs (Barbara Valentine, BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ), upon whom many male viewers will remain focused for most of her screen time. Others include the more emotionally vulnerable Gladys, the exhibitionist Linda who strips at the drop of a hat (or anything else), and several other attractive aspiring actresses. 

 
Alpha-blonde Babs and a contentious beta-babe engage in the film's central catfight scene which, in the unedited version, features a guest appearance by Babs' boobs. 

While stranded on the island they stay in the cozy cabin of a scientist whose dead body they discovered hanging in a giant spider web in the livingroom, and whose experiments with uranium created the monster spider that will bite poor Gary and turn him into sort of a clawed were-spider with a face even his mother would run screaming from.

The unfortunate Gary disappears for much of the film when a couple of other studly guys enter the picture in their motorboat and find themselves surrounded by amorous females. 

 
One of them, Bob (Reiner Brandt), is a womanizing letch who acts like a kid in a candy store, while the older, more mature Joe (Temple Foster) finds love with one of the less brazen beauties (during a night of drunken revelry for the rest of the gang which, in the uncut version, is also semi-naked) until their jungle meet-cute is interrupted by the return of slavering party-crasher Gary.

This leads to a lively, fun finale with everyone running around the jungle in terror, alternately chasing after and hightailing it away from their resident human-spider-monster as the film draws to a satisfying close for those brave souls who've actually stayed with it all the way.

Severin Films' Blu-ray edition of the film, "scanned from the Düsseldorf dupe negative", looks great all things considered and is likely the best-looking version of the film currently extant. The disc also contains the alternate U.S. version which is dubbed in English and minus the nudity (released in 1963 as "It's Hot In Paradise" although I've only ever known it under its current title). 

 
Bonus features include the featurette "The History of Spider Island" with film historian Prof. Dr. Marcus Stiglegger, an audio interview with actor Alexander D’Arcy ("Gary") by horror historian David Del Valle, alternate "clothed" scenes from the U.S. version, a trailer, reversible box artwork, and a slipcover with yet more different artwork.

There are two kinds of people in the world--those who will find HORRORS OF SPIDER ISLAND to be unwatchable, unredeemable trash that they wouldn't touch with ten-foot eyeballs, and those who will savor every single minute of it. I'm a happy member of the second group, and if you are too, then I'll meet you on Spider Island!


Buy it from Severin Films

Special Features:

    Alternate US Release Version: IT’S HOT IN PARADISE
    The History of Spider Island With Prof. Dr. Marcus Stiglegger
    Audio Interview with Actor Alexander D’Arcy by Horror Historian David Del Valle
    Alternate Clothed Scenes
    Trailer
    Revisable Artwork
    Comic Book [WEBSTORE EXCLUSIVE]

 Box art:

Reversible box art:

HORRORS OF SPIDER ISLAND -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle

CRUCIBLE OF TERROR -- DVD review by porfle

 Originally posted on 10/7/2010

 

When psycho artist Victor Clare says he wants to "immortalize" you, run!  Chances are he wants to introduce you to his CRUCIBLE OF TERROR (1971) and turn you into a bronze statue, as he does the lovely Chi-San (Me Me Lay) in the opening scene of this passable but pedestrian British horror film. 

Victor's drink-addled son Mike (Ronald Lacey) swipes some of Dad's artworks and plans to sell them through his cash-strapped friend John (James Bolam), who runs an art gallery.  Chi-San's bronze likeness is coveted by a mesmerized patron who meets a smothery end when he breaks into the gallery later to try and steal it.  The next day, John and Mike, along with their wives Millie (Mary Maude) and Jane (Beth Morris), set off for Victor's remote villa in hopes of persuading him to let them sell more of his work. 

Victor, as we already know from the first scene, is sort of a poor man's Christopher Lee and actor Mike Raven speaks with a lisp which is either natural or an attempt to sound like Boris Karloff.  Tiring of his current model-slash-lover Marcia (Judy Matheson), Victor aims his hopped-up hormones first at daughter-in-law Jane and then at the lovely Millie, with whom he becomes rabidly obsessed.  We figure Millie will eventually end up in Victor's lair beneath the abandoned tinworks next door, where he keeps his crucible stoked and ready.  But first, his houseguests begin to get murdered one by one and we're never really sure who's doing it.


While somewhat bloody, the murders are few and far between and not that excitingly staged.  The rest of the film consists of much dialogue dotted with some occasional suspense, and moves at a snail's pace.  You really have to settle into this one and learn to like the characters and their melodramatic interactions to keep from nodding off.  I managed to enjoy it well enough thanks to a few fairly good performances, some nice-looking babes, and the mystery of who the killer was.  But if THE TERROR was too slow for you, this will really put you into a coma.

Production values are on the chintzy side, with tiny interior sets that make everything look cramped--even John's art gallery seems to be located in someone's garage.  Exteriors, however, are another story, with director Ted Hooker taking full advantage of some remote English locations that are quite atmospheric.  Direction and photography are dry as a bone save for a few garish touches now and then.  While lively compared to the rest of the film, the big action-suspense finale is rather haphazardly staged and is sillier than it is scary. 

As Victor, Mike Raven (described on the DVD box as a "popular Pirate Radio DJ and known occultist" making a vain attempt at horror stardom) comes off as more of a pushy lothario than a figure of fear.  Ronald Lacey, later to gain fame as Nazi villian Toht in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, is amusing as Victor's drunk, ne'er-do-well son Mike, whose fed-up wife Jane tells him, "Respect?  I'll respect you when you stop making me sick!"  Mary Maude, who resembles Barbara Hershey, doesn't make much of an impression as Millie; more interesting are Beth Morris as sassy Jane and Judy Matheson as devious Marcia.


In the role of art gallery owner John, James Bolam is about as interesting as a dish of asparagus.  HORROR OF DRACULA's Melissa Stribling appears briefly as one of his wealthy patrons.  Best of all, perhaps, is Betty Alberge as Victor's neglected wife Dorothy, who's not only too old to ring his ding-a-ling any longer but is totally out of her gourd as well, creeping around the house dressed like a little girl and muttering to her dolls.  Trying to figure out which one of these characters is the mysterious killer will probably keep you guessing.

The DVD from Severin Films is in 1.78:1 widescreen with Dolby Digital English mono.  Picture quality is good.  There are no extras.

I can't say I was terribly bored by this film, since it maintained my interest reasonably well all the way to the end and does have a certain shabby charm.  But I didn't find it particularly exciting, either.  A brief flash of nudity in the opening scene fails to be repeated later on, which may disappoint some viewers, and the actual horror content is relatively sparse.  One thing I did learn from it, though--if anyone ever offers to "immortalize" you, make darn sure they don't have a CRUCIBLE OF TERROR bubbling away in their basement.

CRUCIBLE OF TERROR -- DVD review by porfle

PSYCHOMANIA -- DVD Review by Porfle

Originally posted on 10/7/2010
 

Here's an odd little artifact from the early 70s--a horror movie with no real horror or scares, a biker movie without a single "real" biker, and what appears to be an exploitation flick that's as tame as an extended episode of an old TV series.  In fact, director Don Sharp (CURSE OF THE FLY) helmed a few episodes of "The Avengers" and brings the same competent but rather dry style to PSYCHOMANIA, aka "The Death Wheelers" (1973), turning it into a pleasantly diverting yet ultimately bland experience. 

Still, this seems to be a fondly-remembered flick for a lot of people (including Fangoria editor Chris Alexander, who gushes about it during his five-minute introduction), especially those who look back on it through that nostalgic VHS-bargain-bin haze of their youth.  I can imagine enjoying it a lot more on a drive-in screen or some obscure late-night TV slot.  Seeing it now for the first time on DVD, it doesn't quite conjure up that magical feeling I still get from so many other guilty-pleasure films of that era.  Yet it's definitely an enjoyable little piece of goofball cinema. 

The main characters are a group of post-mod juvenile delinquent boys and girls who call themselves "The Living Dead" and ride around on wimpy bikes terrorizing the proper English citizenry.  Their leader, Tom (Nicky Henson, WITCHFINDER GENERAL), is a handsome sociopath whose mother (Beryl Reid, THE KILLING OF SISTER GEORGE) practices the occult arts.  From her, he learns that if one willingly commits suicide with the firm intention of returning from the dead, it will happen.  In one of the film's best scenes, Tom--buried by his friends in a sitting position on his beloved motorcycle--comes roaring up out of the grave in a shower of dirt.
 

After amazing the rest of the gang with his unexpected return, they can't wait to go out and start offing themselves in amusing ways.  These include some nice stunt scenes with them lunging off bridges and buildings, skydiving without parachutes, and (my favorite) crashing their motorcycles through the back end of a moving truck.  Now undead and unstoppable, the lethal pranksters go on a rampage which consists mainly of running motorists off the road and trashing a supermarket.  The latter scene features another cool stunt with bad girl Jane (Ann Michelle) gleefully running over a baby carriage and then crashing into a glass display case.

Tom, meanwhile, is having the time of his afterlife until he discovers that his girlfriend Abby (Mary Larkin), a nice girl at heart, isn't keen on dying.  This takes some of the fun out of spree-killing for poor Tom, who gives Abby an ultimatum--either die, or he will kill her.  Tough choice!  Disturbed by her son's evil ways, Mom takes steps to stop him with the help of her devoted servant, Shadwell, who is played by none other than top-billed George Sanders.  If Sanders looks a little bored in the role, which must've been a disheartening end to his distinguished film career, it's because he was soon to commit suicide with boredom being specified as one of the reasons in his farewell note.  However, his presence along with Reid's does help to class the movie up a little.


The actors portraying the "Living Dead" gang do an okay job, with Ann Michelle as Jane and Denis Gilmore (who reminds me a bit of Michael J. Pollard) as "Hatchet" making the biggest impression.  As a biker gang, though, these dweebs are a mixed-up bunch who kill for fun one minute and sit around singing folk songs and making floral wreaths the next.  Tom burial is accompanied by an ear-bending acoustic guitar ballad lip-synched by Miles Greenwood (as "Chopped Meat") while the corpse sits upright, mounted on his motorcycle, in the open grave.  In a film surprisingly devoid of the droll humor one might expect, this is definitely the most stupefyingly hilarious image.

The DVD from Severin Films is in 1.78:1 widescreen and Dolby Digital mono.  Taken from the best available print as the original negative is deemed lost, the image quality is good.  Extras include the lovingly-rendered 25-minute documentary "Return of the Living Dead", which features a charming Nicky Henson along with several other original castmembers.  "The Sound of Psychomania" offers composer John Cameron's recollections of creating the film's score.  In addition to Chris Alexander's introduction to the film and the original trailer, singer Harvey Andrews recalls recording the vocals to the awful folk song "Riding Free" which is heard during Tom's burial scene. 

With the emphasis on stunts and some really exciting car and bike chase sequences (but very little actual violence), PSYCHOMANIA's supernatural aspect is treated so lightly and matter-of-factly that it hardly registers.  Dying and coming back just seems to make these young smarties a little snarkier.  After an early scene in which Tom ventures into a mysterious locked room in search of some occult epiphany (his vision of a floating bullfrog shrouded in mist doesn't quite terrify), there's no attempt to scare viewers in any way until the slightly creepy ending.  What makes the film watchable is that it's lively, quirky, endearingly retro, and enjoyably dumb.

PSYCHOMANIA -- DVD Review by Porfle

THE KILLING OF AMERICA -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle

 Originally posted on 11/7/2016

You start to notice a difference right away between this and the usual "Mondo Cane"-type shockumentary that you might be expecting when you first start watching it.  THE KILLING OF AMERICA (1981) isn't just about showing us violence in order to satisfy our more prurient interests, but to help us come to grips with it and, hopefully, begin to understand it.

Not that there's really anything to understand, because violence like this is mostly as far removed from reason and rationality as it can be.  The scariest thing about what we see, in fact, is the randomness, unpredictability, and total incomprehensibility of it all, particularly in the case of spree-killers, serial killers, and glazed-eyed zealots.

The documentary begins in the early 60s, when director Sheldon Renan and co-writer Leonard Schrader (whose brother Paul wrote TAXI DRIVER) believe that America's psyche was forever altered by the assassination of John F. Kennedy.  From that point and into the 80s, as Renan remarks in his commentary, "the weirdness of the killing, the numbers of people killed, and the craziness of the violence just continued to escalate."

Renan's film concentrates at length on the 60s with extensive footage, photographs, and testimony concerning the subsequent assassinations of Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, the latter sparking bloody race riots throughout the country.  The televised murder of Lee Harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby and the attempted killing of presidential candidate George Wallace (and later President Ronald Reagan) further illustrate how drastically an armed assassin can change the course of history.

As the decade dragged on, more and more of its (extreme) violence was being filmed or videotaped for posterity.  This allows us to witness much in the way of Viet Nam war protests and widespread campus unrest which led to the Kent State killings. 

After that, THE KILLING OF AMERICA begins to narrow its focus to such spree killers as Texas sniper Charles Whitman, the Manson family, the infamous "I Don't Like Mondays" girl who opened fire on school children walking past her house, and other, lesser-known psychos seeking infamy via mass murder. Some are seen enjoying the spotlight while in custody as does a smirking David "Son of Sam" Berkowitz, while others prefer to commit suicide or go out in a hail of cops' bullets. 

We witness the senseless shooting of a store clerk via security footage and endure a tense hostage situation in which a disgruntled man rages against injustice while clutching a shotgun that's taped to a loan officer's neck.  Graphic images of the infamous Jonestown massacre continue to shock, as does a montage depicting suicide's aftermath. 

Most disturbing, perhaps, is the section on serial killers such as Charles Kemper, John Wayne Gacy, Dean Corll, and Ted Bundy.  Actual scenes from Bundy's trial, during which he defended himself, show the deceptively normal-looking young man teetering on the brink of insanity, while Corll's then-teenaged accomplice tells the chilling story of luring several of his friends into Corll's evil clutches before he himself finally found himself an intended victim. 

Kemper, meanwhile, is interviewed up-close and personal in prison by Renan, and this imposing (6'8", 280 lbs.) killer's calm accounts of multiple murders, mutilations, and beheadings (including his mother) conjure mental images as disturbing as any picture.

All along the way, the squeamish will be kept squeaming by endlessly morbid stuff including a tour of the overcrowded Los Angeles city morgue during which a number of autopsies are being performed.  Again, this isn't "Faces of Death"-style exploitation for its own sake, but be warned that no punches are pulled. This is grimly matter-of-fact material and it's intended to make a visceral impact.

Narrator Chuck Riley lends the same solemn vocal authority here that he did in the haunting 1979 documentary "Whodunit? The Greatest Unsolved Mysteries" which you might've caught on HBO back in the 80s.  Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and the Raiders co-wrote the score. 

The Blu-ray from Severin Films is widescreen (new 2k scan from original negative) with English and Japanese 2.0 audio English subtitles.  In addition to the exhaustive director's commentary and the film's trailer, extras include featurettes "The Madness is Real: Interview with Director Sheldon Renan", "Cutting the Killing: Interview with Editor Lee Percy", and "Interview with Mondo Movie Historian Nick Pinkerton."

There's some editorializing, of course, but for the most part we're left to form our own conclusions from what we're shown. After a few New York showings in 1982, THE KILLING OF AMERICA disappeared from American screens (while being a big hit in such places as Japan and Australia) until now.  Needless to say, it's just as relevant as ever.

THE KILLING OF AMERICA -- Blu-ray Review by Porfle