The Secret Lives of Dentists (2003; Alan Rudolph)

Alan Rudolph's films are just the things for which this site seems made. For a quarter century, discerning viewers seeking departure from the usual homogenized Hollywood fare could count on a new work from the writer-director every year or two. His studies of human nature were often ensemble pieces like those of his mentor Robert Altman, yet unique in their own rights for their moody, dreamlike atmospheres, and quirky shifts in narrative tone or genre.  Even though they were often imperfect (as are most unique works of art), they were often haunting experiences that lingered for days afterwards.

 

Johnny Gunman (1957; Art Ford)

Martin E. Brooks, best known to our generation as Rudy in TV's The Six Million Dollar Man and its spinoff The Bionic Woman, has a rare feature-film leading man credit as "Johnny G.", one of the two underlings of mobster Lou Caddy who are left in charge of his territory while their head honcho is sent up the river for a stretch. 

X-Ray (1981; Boaz Davidson)

Back in the good old days, this slasher entry from Cannon (produced by head honchos, Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus) was released on an MGM-UA big box VHS with the more familiar title, Hospital Massacre, which at least sounds more fun than the film really is. The Scream Factory DVD-BD combo pack (which pairs this with Schizoid, another Cannon slasher from the day) carries it under the title X-Ray- referring to a pivotal piece of its meagre plot, in which Susan Jeremy (Barbi Benton) is mysteriously kept at the hospital, over an x-ray which alleges she has a terminal condition, while some maniac in a surgical mask slices and dices all the staff on the floor around her. 

 

So Sad About Gloria (1973; Harry Thomason)

One of most interesting "where are they now" stories from the days of regional films involves director and producer Harry Thomason, who would produce such successful TV series as Designing Women and Evening Shade, and contribute to Bill Clinton's election campaign. He had paid his dues in the previous decade with a quartet of drive-in genre pictures made in his native Arkansas, including the horror anthology Encounter With The Unknown (1973); the 1975 rural comedy The Great Lester Boggs (of which I may be its one admirer); and the delightful 1950s sci-fi homage The Day It Came To Earth (1977). Of these, perhaps So Sad About Gloria is the most sentimental, character-driven and competently acted (if because it features some Hollywood talent... not to take away from the busy local players who appear in many of these films).  

The Beast of Yucca Flats (1961; Coleman Francis)

Everything you have read about Beast Of Yucca Flats is true. It really is one of the worst films ever made. Or, are we missing the point? Surely no one would aspire to make something this terrible, or is this film an intentional gob of spit in the face of Tinseltown?

 

Slipstream (1973; David Acomba)

"The prairie knows nothing but the wind; it's raptured by its breeze and ridden by its storm"

Reclusive DJ Mike Mallard (Luke Askew) hosts a radio show whose on-air soundscapes of unusual music, sprinkled with poetic narration, has developed a mystique among his young counterculture audience of listeners that is entranced enough by this mystery to seek him out in person.  The enigmatic aura is furthered with Mallard's broadcast emanating from a secluded farmhouse. This successful gimmick was dreamed up by his producer Alec Braverman (Eli Rill) to develop a following of listeners, yet the brooding disc jockey has tired of the gimmicks and continues to explore artistic purity on the airwaves, while receiving pressure from his boss to play more conventional, commercial music.

Bikini Drive-In (1995; Fred Olen Ray)

A well-remembered T&A favourite from the days of late night cable, Bikini Drive-In remains one of the most durable titles from the prolific Fred Olen Ray, whose low-budget exploitation films were plentiful on rental shelves and specialty channels during the heyday of the video age.  His movies are especially known for generous showcases of old and new favourite B-movie personalities. As per its namesake, Bikini Drive-In, features many veterans from ye olde drive-in, as well as scream queens and familiar Cinemax personalities of its time. 

Panic in the City (1968; Eddie Davis)

I've long been fascinated with the low-budget genre quickies produced in the late 1960s under the various umbrellas of United Pictures Corporation. These undemanding films (including Destination Inner Space, Cyborg 2087, Dimension 5, and The Destructors) mostly found distribution on television. As late as the 1990s, they were still filler on City TV's "Late Great Movies". (Our most important film education often came from whatever aired at 4:10 AM).

The Gatling Gun (1971; Robert Gordon)

Genre fans tend to dislike this low-budget western, but I have an irrational fondness for it... probably because it was purchased for the princely sum of one dollar. Early in the DVD revolution, when players and movies had become more wallet friendly for the average consumer, there also came the glut of "dollar DVDs", usually featuring public domain movies, cartoons or vintage TV shows. They often came in no-frills packaging, usually nothing more than a thin cardboard sleeve that was glued shut on one side, and one had to carefully pry them open so not to scratch the disk inside. And of course, the movies were in bare bones presentations: zero effort put into remastering, no extras, and sometimes they didn't even bother with chapter stops! Well? What did you expect for a buck? Criterion?

Fiend (1980; Don Dohler)

Don Dohler's Amazing Cinema magazine,
which often plugged his own films.

Before Don Dohler had ever picked up a movie camera and directed his own feature-length micro-budgeted science fiction-horror films, he was already a "do-it-yourself" legend. He had published underground comics in the 1960s, and in the 1970s he released his influential magazine, Cinemagic, which was a primer for aspiring filmmakers to create their own special effects.  His first feature, The Alien Factor (1978), shot for a paltry $6000, proved he was a trailblazer for another medium. This film with such a small budget had the good fortune in being sold to cable. Those who saw it were inspired, alerted to the possibility that "Hey, I can do this too".

Ghosts That Still Walk (James T. Flocker; 1977)

In the days when movies still aired late at night instead of infomercials, this unassuming film made an impression upon UHF-surfing night owls, if for at least one image.  After six decades of fantasy cinema featuring humans besieged by numerous ghouls and goblins, Ghosts That Still Walk offers the intriguing premise of an elderly RV-ing couple being pursued by boulders! This sequence is surely reason enough to warrant a watch. However, as in the case of most films released by Gold Key Entertainment, this movie is better to have seen than to sit through.

The Curse of the Living Corpse (1964; Del Tenney)

One of the greatest double-bills in history, two independently produced horror films by Connecticut-based auteur Del Tenney, The Horror of Party Beach and The Curse of the Living Corpse were picked up as a double bill for distribution by Twentieth Century Fox for a successful run in drive-ins. Both films are well-produced despite their meager budgets, and nicely shot by Richard Hilliard: each fine examples of regional filmmaking.

Keep My Grave Open (1976; S.F. Brownrigg)

Of all the genre filmmakers in the "regional" circuit, few had a body of work as distinctive as that of S.F. Brownrigg. The Texan's quartet of horror-exploitation films, made in the 1970s, is remarkable for the “you are there” atmosphere, unusual camerawork and melodramatic acting, in addition to the helpings of gore and violence to sell tickets. Although these pictures had different screenwriters, similar themes of madness, dysfunctional famiiles and sexual tension play into all of these scenarios, best described as macabre mélanges of Tennessee Williams and Erskine Caldwell. 

Superargo and the Faceless Giants (1968; Paolo Bianchini)

An instance where the sequel is better than the original, this followup to Superargo Versus Diabolicus gets right down to business, as it doesn’t have to spend half an hour of screen time on an origin story. The so-called “faceless giants” are actually human-sized: humanoids in red and silver suits, helmets with tubing, and with characterless faces reminiscent of plaster casts. These creatures go around kidnapping athletes and robbing banks, all with the dexterity of Rock Em Sock Em Robots in a china shop, at the behest of the mad Professor Wond.

Superargo Versus Diabolicus (1966; Nick Nostro)

Unlike most Italian superheroes, Superargo doesn’t seem to have any other “normal” human identity, much like the wrestling superhero Santo persona in Mexican films. And speaking of Santo, this movie also begins in the ring, as Superargo is first seen as a wrestling superstar, who accidentally kills his opponent El Tigre during a match. Disgraced from the wrestling profession, he is enlisted by the government to use his strength for good.

Phenomenal and the Treasure of Tutankamen (1968; Ruggero Deodato)

In interviews, director Ruggero Deodato (best remembered for his later grindhouse classics Cannibal Holocaust and The House at the Edge of the Park, and billed here as "Roger Rockefeller") has stated that this film’s lead actor , Nicola Mauro Parenti (also its producer) was “too stiff… a dog of an actor” (although they did work together on Zenabel a year later) and “that he didn’t give a shit about the film”. Therefore, if you begin this with low expectations, you might have a good time with it.

Goldface, The Fantastic Superman (1967; Bitto Albertini)

By day, Vilar (Robert Anthony) is a mild-mannered scientist who abhors violence. By night, he is the amazing wrestler Goldface! Vilar’s boss is part of an organization that is besieged by a mysterious villain named The Cobra, who is blowing up their plants. The Cobra’s next move is to kidnap the boss’ daughter Pamela (Micaela Pignatelli) for ransom. Goldface is recruited to journey to The Cobra’s island fortress, rescue Pamela and save the day! 

Argoman, The Fantastic Superman (1967; Sergio Grieco)

Often, the only power exhibited by some of these Italian superheroes is that they can fight well. Argoman on the other hand, has telepathic capabilities, as seen in the opening when the anti-hero is facing a firing squad, and has his captors turn their guns on themselves. This sequence (missing in some prints) is the only time in a long while that you see Argoman in costume. (This may be a blessing, once you see his silly yellow outfit.) Otherwise, this film plays more like a James Bond film, and reinforces the ugly sexism that abounded in some of those pictures.

The Three Fantastic Supermen (1967; Gianfranco Parolini)

Left to right: Brad Harris, Tony Kendall, Nick Jordan

Agent Brad McCallum (Brad Harris) recruits Tony (Tony Kendall) and Nick (Nick Jordan), two acrobatic thieves with bulletproof superhero costumes, to (unwittingly) do some good for the government by robbing a foreign embassy. And then he prods them further into meeting Professor Schwarz (Carlo Tamberlani), the scientist who designed their bulletproof suits, so that the government can make use of his invention. As soon as they arrive, the scientist is whisked away to the island retreat (it’s always an island!) run by the fiend named The Golem!  The chase is on!

Mister-X (1967; Piero Vivarelli)

In 1964, the Italian comic strip Mister-X, by writer Cesare Melloncelli and drawing artist Giancarlo Tenenti, was published. Its content was far less violent than other popular fumetti, such as Kriminal or Satanik, as the character was more of a "gentleman thief".

Satanik (1968; Piero Vivarelli)

The creators of the popular fumetto Kriminal, Magnus and Max Bunker, also enjoyed success in another strip featuring an arch villain: Satanik. If Max Bunker was dissatisfied with the big-screen adaptation of Kriminal, one can only imagine his thoughts about this one, as Satanik was transferred even less faithfully to the movies. 

 

Kriminal (1966; Umberto Lenzi)

One of the most durable super-villain characters in Italian fumetto was Kriminal, created by Magnus and Max Bunker (also the creators of Satanik).  Kriminal features an English master thief named Anthony Logan, who dons a black-and-gold costume with a skeletal mask. He is helped by a female companion (Lola Hudson), and is dogged by an Inspector (Milton of Scotland Yard). Apparently, Max Bunker was displeased with writer-director Umberto Lenzi’s screen adaptation, as a much younger actor played the character than depicted in the fumetto, but the source material’s sadistic tone was watered down to a more "lighthearted" approach.

The Mark of Kriminal (1968; Fernando Cerchio, Nando Cicero)

This second screen adaptation of the popular fumetto character (seen previously in 1966's Kriminal) is a marginally better followup, if because it succeeds more in the lighthearted approach than its predecessor, despite the nefarious acts onscreen. The scene where Kriminal and his wife plot to kill each other is treated in a tongue-and-cheek way that Hitchcock would have admired. It also more succeeds in capturing the flavour of a fumetto, with its bright warm colours, and sporadic insertion of comic strip panels. Whereas the original film used them only at the end, (one assumes) to lazily wrap up the story, this film uses them to display thought balloons, to cannily visualize what cannot be filmed. 

Danger: Diabolik (1968; Mario Bava)

Danger: Diabolik is no doubt the finest of the entire Italian superhero-supervillain subgenre, featuring the exploits of master criminal Diabolik (John Phillip Law) and his assistant Eva (Marisa Mell). His rival, Inspector Ginko (Michel Piccoli), pressures gangster Valmont (Adolfo Celi) to recruit the underworld (shades of Fritz Lang’s M) to help capture him!  

 

Euro Superheroes (& Villains) - Introduction

Above: Three Fantastic Supermen

Sixties European genre cinema was replete with spies, gadgets and gizmos, borne out of the decade’s “spy-fi” craze. Close cousins to these were the superhero and super-criminal films. Germany had the criminal mastermind Dr. Mabuse. France had the arch villain Fantomas.  Italy had supervillains which found their inspirations in fumetti (comic strips). Italian cinema’s fascination with fumetti can be traced at least as far back as Federico Fellini’s solo debut, The White Sheik (1952), in which a character from a beloved fotoromanzi (photo comic strip) becomes the object of one woman’s obsession. However, Italian comics series truly made the jump to cinema in the following decade.

1962 saw the release of Diabolik, a digest-sized black-and-white comic book, created by sisters Angel and Luciana Guissani. This long-running series (which celebrated its 800th issue in 2013) chronicles the exploits of master thief Diabolik and his lover-accomplice Eva Kant. Inspector Ginko attempts to bring the brigands to justice, but Diabolik always outsmarts him. The popularity of Diabolik influenced other Italian crime comics (referred to as fumetti neri, literally: black comics), including Kriminal and Satanik, both created by Magnus and Max Bunker (who would later release the wildly popular Italian secret agent spoof, Alan Ford).  Kriminal features an English master thief named Anthony Logan, who dons a black-and-gold costume with a skeletal mask. He too is helped by a female companion (Lola Hudson), and is dogged by an Inspector (Milton of Scotland Yard). Although Diabolik was more popular, Kriminal nonetheless enjoyed a print run of 419 issues from 1964 to 1974. Satanik also featured a criminal mastermind, albeit in plots with more horrific and supernatural aspects. Its origin story offers a space-age Jekyll and Hyde persona in a hideously scarred woman scientist who takes a potion to transform into an alluring younger woman, yet the serum also conjures murderous tendencies. This title also ran from 1964 to 1974, with 231 issues.

These three durable characters all had adaptations to the big screen, with varying levels of success, or faithfulness to the source material. By and large the Italian superhero boom was already underway when these arch criminals appeared before the camera. The genesis of the Italian superhero movie subgenre can also be ascribed to the Eurospy craze of its day. Some characters work for government agents, and some of the scenarios use time-worn tropes used in espionage films.

These movies also have an otherworldly feeling: no less so than the German krimis of the era, which featured London locations and Scotland Yard characters, albeit presented with a distinctive art direction and atmosphere that is representative of German cinema. Some of the films in this issue likewise have London settings, Scotland Yard detectives and English butlers enacted by Italian-speaking performers. Because of their contents, many of these films can be regarded as  “camp” (misused as that term often is), even when they’re not attempting to be spoofy, with their larger than life performances and production values. At their best, they nicely capture the look and feel of a live action comic book.

Titles Reviewed (so far):

Argoman The Fantastic Superman (1967), Danger: Diabolik (1968), Goldface, The Fantastic Superman (1967), Kriminal (1966), Mark Of The Kriminal (1968), Mister-X (1967), Phenomenal And The Treasure Of Tutankamun (1968), Satanik (1968), Superargo And The Faceless Giants (1968), Superargo Versus Diabolicus (1966), Three Fantastic Supermen (1967)