The Black Sleep (1956)

The Black Sleep is an intriguing and little seen low budget horror film, with a dream cast of genre veterans.

In Victorian England, a brilliant surgeon, Sir Joel Cadman (Basil Rathbone) is trying to find a way to revive his beloved wife from a coma caused by a brain tumor. But, his methods are a little unscrupulous, as Cadman employs a powerful anesthetic from India to induce a death like state in his test subjects. He uses it to snatch a fellow Doctor, Gordon Ramsey, from Death Row, where Ramsey is awaiting execution for a murder he denies carrying out. Cadman wants Ramsay's help, but as Ramsey soon discovers, not all Cadman's previous experiments have been so successful.

Rathbone is on fine form, making Cadman initially seem charming and even sympathetic, but slowly revealing him to be cruel and insane.

His co-stars are not always as lucky. Lon Chaney Jr hams it up as Mungo, a former scientific genius who has been turned into a crazed madman by the good doctor's experiments. But poor Bela Lugosi, in his final filmed role, is left without a word to say. The underwritten character of Cadman's butler feels like it was written to put Lugosi's name on the posters.

Tor Johnson, Lugosi's co-star in the Ed Wood films Plan 9 from Outer Space and Bride of the Monster, has some fun as the sort of lurking bulk of a monster he excelled at.

The highlight comes in the form of John Carradine, playing another of Cadman's victims. Carradine does not hold back, even by his usual standards, as the climax sees the inmates taking over the asylum.

Dolemite Is My Name (2019)

It's a testament to the charm of Eddie Murphy that he makes the lead character of Dolemite Is My Name warm and sympathetic, despite that person's crude and sexist comedy. Along with a strong supporting cast, a lush period production design, and a well-structured script, this makes for a thoroughly entertaining film.

Murphy plays Rudy Ray Moore, a real life nightclub comic whose act was an early form of rapping. Wanting to break into the movies, he used his own money and a group of friends and volunteers to make outrageous cult Blaxploitation comedy Dolemite.

Moore offstage is often shown as a world away from his onstage persona, particularly through the character of Lady Reed. After meeting her in a bar following a show and hearing about her life of single motherhood, Moore encourages Reed to get on stage and tell her stories. When she becomes part of his show, she is always treated as an equal. Murphy effortlessly switches between the brash showman, and warm human being who understands and empathises with those who going through tough times. There are references to Moore's childhood, particularly an abusive stepfather who told him he would never amount to anything, but this is never turned into a simplistic single driving force behind Moore's ambition.

I know nothing about the real life Moore, and as it's a biopic I assume some liberties are taken with events and people. But, as a drama it's well constructed, taking time to establish the characters and their goals, and giving them plenty of obstacles to overcome along the way. 

One of the best scenes is Ray and his friends sitting in a packed cinema watching Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau in The Front Page. They are baffled at how the white folks in the audience are falling about laughing at something they find unfunny. Looking behind him, Moore becomes transfixed on the light from the projector, until it becomes like a divine luminance from above, giving him an epiphany about the next stage of his career. 

Dolemite Is My Name made me think of two other films about filmmaking. Firstly, Ed Wood, Tim Burton's biopic about the cult 50s director. Like Moore, Wood is always optimistic, and will not take no for an answer. Both believe a person can reinvent themselves through sheer force of will.

The other is Sullivan’s Travels, Preston Sturges 1941 comedy. In it, John Sullivan, is a filmmaker who wants to leave behind the world of "mere" entertainment and make highbrow, socially conscious films. Eventually Sullivan has a change of heart and comes to the conclusion that "... there's a lot to be said for making people laugh". My Name is Dolemite has a similar conflict, through the character of Jerry Jones. The writer of the Dolemite screenplay, he wants to make a gritty thriller showing the realities of urban black life. Moore's instincts are towards entertainment, giving the audience a laugh and a few hours relief from their daily lives.

The Body Snatcher (1945)

The Body Snatcher is a classic example of a film that has all the ingredients on paper, but which never comes to life.

The screenplay is based on a short story by Robert Louis Stevenson. The film stars no less than Boris Karloff as the title character, John Gray, a shifty cab driver who has a sideline sourcing and delivering dead bodies for top surgeon Wolfe "Toddy" MacFarlane (Henry Daniell, best known as Goebbels parody Garbitsch in Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator). Bela Lugosi has a small role as MacFarlane's other cadaver consultant, but the fact that he barely registers should be an alarm bell for the rest of the film.

Producer Val Lewton had previously given us Cat People, The Curse of the Cat People and I Walked with a Zombie. These films, despite their lurid titles, have an unsettling mix of atmosphere and ambiguity. This kept the viewer intrigued and on edge. Director Robert Wise would go on to have an eclectic career, from editing montages for Citizen Kane, to directing everything from low key noir classics like The Set Up to big budget epics like The Sound of Music and Star Trek: The Motion Picture

 

There are some interesting ideas in The Body Snatcher, particularly with regard to class, and how those at MacFarlane's level feel like they can get away with flouting the law. But, largely it is talk, endless talk, with little or nothing left to the imagination of the viewer, the central strength of Lewton's former work. One for the Karloff / Lewton / Lugosi completists only.

 

 

Blacula (1972)

Blacula is a fun and intriguing mash up of Blaxploitation and horror, with a dignified turn from William Marshall as the title character.

Marshall plays an 18th century African prince named Mamuwalde. He wants to bring his kingdom into the modern world, and, for some reason, turns to Count Dracula for help. Unsurprisingly, it does not go well, and instead of opening up global markets, Dracula opens up the veins in Mamuwalde's neck, seals him up in a coffin and leaves his wife Luva to die. Cut to the 1970s, and two interior decorators who are expanding their US property portfolio to include Transylvania. They unwittingly resurrect Mamuwalde after bringing him back to the US, leaving him free to pursue a woman he thinks is the reincarnation of his late wife.

This is cheap but cheesy fun and there has been some thought gone into the script.
 
The original Dracula story had the Van Helsing character to act as the counterpoint to Dracula (and exposition point for the audience). Wisely, Dr. Gordon Thomas (Thalmus Rasulala) plays that role here.

What is especially interesting is that all the main characters are black, and the producers made no attempt to introduce any kind of white saviour character.

The real star is William Marshall whose natural charisma manages to inject some dignity into the part of Mamuwalde, and make him a tragic rather than horrific character.

Bruce Lee against Supermen (1975)

Any film with a title that great is only going to be a disappointment, and in this respect, Bruce Lee against Superman does not disappoint. It's part of an odd and crass sub genre of martial arts films cashing in on Lee's death with a similarly named star and little in the way of talent or story.

There's a half-hearted attempt at a plot, something involving a scientist who has worked out how to make food from petrol, but it feels more like a cheese induced fever dream. Bruce Li, aka Ho Tsung-Tao starts off playing a version of Cato from The Green Hornet, then seems to turn into somebody called Carter, who occasionally wears red pyjamas along with a bearded man who seems to be his boss or something. The Supermen wear black with little napkins for capes. One of them is the leader and the other two fall out with him for some reason.

While there are brief flashes of entertainingly unhinged nuttiness akin to Ed Wood or Ray Dennis Steckler (especially Rat Fink a Boo Boo) the real sin of this movie is to be mostly dull and boring.

A Cat in the Brain (1990)

Lucio Fulci had a long career as a director, one that covered many styles. But he is best remembered for the gore splattered horror films he made from the late 70s onwards. A Cat in the Brain presents itself as a horror version of 8 1/2, a meta reflection on this particular genre, as well as Fulci's career, and his audience.

Fulci plays a fictional version of himself, a director in the middle of shooting his latest gory effort. Not only that but "Fulci" is also convinced he is going mad, sent over the edge by years of making horror films, and that he may be responsible for a series of slayings near his house.

For such an intriguing wacky premise with so much promise, the end result is surprisingly dreary and plodding.

Much of the footage in A Cat in the Brain is culled from half a dozen films Fulci was involved in a year or two previously, although none of them have anything to do with each other.

The mismatched incoherent tone is sometimes the perfect representation of a fractured disintegrating psyche, but often makes the film look cheap and poorly thought out.

Duck You Sucker (1971)

In Revolution-era Mexico, Juan (Rod Steiger) is a bandit with dreams of knocking over the country's biggest bank. When he meets wanted IRA terrorist John (James Coburn), Juan blackmails the Irishman into helping him. But the bank is as empty of money as it is full of political prisoners. After freeing them, Juan finds himself hailed as a revolutionary hero, but that means betrayal and tragedy are around the corner.

Director Sergio Leone kick-started the Spaghetti Western Genre with his ground-breaking 1964 film A Fistful of Dollars, and expanded on the template of amoral heroes, violent gun-play and eerie sun-baked apocalyptic atmosphere with For a Few Dollars More, The Good The Bad and The Ugly, and Once upon a Time in the West.

But, Duck You Sucker (aka A Fistful of Dynamite) feels like a step backwards, lacking some of the elements that made the other films work, particularly Clint Eastwood's Man with No Name character. In the Dollars Trilogy he's a tight lipped stoical man, who sets a tone of ambiguity and understatement. This provides a much needed contrast to the more outre characters. Here, Steiger and Coburn go for the thick cartoon brand of Mexican and Irish accents which soon become grating. Luckily, their natural presence and charisma stop the characters from being unwatchable. Also, the script is heavy handed with too much talk and exposition, while the soft focus flashbacks to John's back story become ludicrous.

Aside from occasional casual misogyny, Duck You Sucker has some more positive, familiar Sergio Leone traits. The Ennio Morricone soundtrack is as quirky, bombastic and haunting as his earlier work with the director. The action sequences, particularly the raid on the bank by Juan and his gang are brilliantly executed. The massacre of a large group of peasants by Mexican government troops is disturbing, and makes a contrast from the dismissive attitude to death often seen in this genre.

Behemoth the Sea Monster (1959)

Cheap and cheerful, Behemoth the Sea Monster borrows from the American giant monster films of the 1950s, especially director Eugène Lourié's earlier influential classic The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. It's worth a look for the novelty of the London setting, the appearance of Hammer Horror regular André Morell, and the final FX work by King Kong legend Willis O'Brien.

American scientist Steve Karnes (Gene Evans) is giving a speech to British scientists about marine life and the dangers by nuclear testing. Later, he learns of thousands of lifeless fish washed ashore on the Cornish coast and the death of a fisherman from radiation burns. Teaming up with Professor James Bickford (Morell) to investigate, the pair find a passenger ship destroyed, with the loss of all on board, while tests show the dead fish were full of radioactive contamination. Karnes begins to suspect the creature the fisherman described seeing is a beast mutated by nuclear testing, with a desire to come back to London.

In the first ten minutes we get all the tropes you expect from this genre. 1) A conference of scientists with ominous warnings. 2) A bureaucrat who dismisses said warnings. 3) A pretty girl, and a hunky love interest. 4) somebody having a deadly encounter with something, linked to the opening scene, and shot from the point of view of the something. 5) The dying man muttering portentous semi coherent warnings with his dying breath. Following this comes lots of padding, occasional exposition, further deaths and possible monster sightings. Finally, the full reveal of the monster and a trail of destruction. In this respect, Behemoth the Sea Monster is no different, but it is still entertaining for the most part. There is some hokey Dr Who level rubber glove puppet special FX, some atmospheric scenes in Cornwall, and the always watchable Morell.

In fairness, the stop motion monster in the final scenes is not too bad considering the low budget, and this was the final credited work of Willis O'Brien. While he did not invent the technique, he refined and brought it to popular attention through King Kong, inspiring the likes of Ray Harryhausen.

Lourie would go on to give the monster smashing up London in the more colourful and fun Gorgo. This took the action from destroying anonymous docks and houses, to smashing London landmarks like Tower Bridge.

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1942)

Taking the master detective out of Victorian London into World War Two, Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon has little in common with anything penned by Conan Doyle, but it is a hokey, entertaining spy thriller.

Holmes (Basil Rathbone) is up against his old nemesis Professor Moriarty (Lionel Attwill who had played Dr Mortimer in the earlier Rathbone version of The Hound of the Baskervilles), with both on the trail of a missing scientist and his invention, a revolutionary bomb sight that could change the course of the war.

The screenplay take it's cue from the Conan Doyle short story The Adventure of the Dancing Men, but there is little left of the original, beyond the plot device of an alphabet substitution code. The character of Holmes is a world away from the dispassionate Victorian gentleman, only taking cases that tickled his intellectual fancy. Here is a paid up patriotic Brit, doing his bit against the Nazis. As such there are no baffling, impossible murder mysteries to solve, just standard spy stuff like disguises and code breaking. Nevertheless, Rathbone brings the sort of energy and focus needed for the part, and Nigel Bruce as Watson is dimwitted but so charming and affable it is impossible not to like him.

In keeping with the secret agent feel of the film, Lionel Atwill plays Moriarty like a James Bond villain, and even has a secret lair with trapdoors and an entrance hidden by a moving bookcase.

The propaganda is kept to a minimum for most of the film, with the war being the McGuffin to drive a standard espionage plot. It only takes over in the closing minutes, with Holmes gazing wistfully into the distance reciting the "Fortress built by nature" speech from Richard II.

Robot Monster (1953)

Robot Monster is a rite-of-passage for anyone with an interest in 50's B-Movies and has long been staple of those Worst Films Ever lists that were all the rage in the 80s and 90s.

Ro-Man, an Alien Robot that in no way bears a striking resemblance to a man wearing a gorilla suit and a diving helmet, is on a mission to destroy all human life on Earth with his Calcinator death ray. He is achingly close to getting the job done, except for half a dozen humans that stubbornly remain alive; a scientist, his wife, their two daughters, his young son Johnny and his assistant, who have all somehow developed an immunity to the death ray. As if that's not bad enough for poor Ro-Man, he has developed an illogical attraction to Alice, the eldest daughter.

It's true that the film contains much that is easy to sneer at. The story makes little sense, the acting is wooden, the Death Ray seems to be a bubble machine with a TV antenna, and the four day shooting schedule is reflected in a few fluffed lines.

But, one thing you could never call it is dull. The sheer insanity and invention coupled with a total lack of any irony or self-awareness gives Robot Monster a delirious energy sorely lacking from other examples of this genre, or their modern-day equivalents such as the Sharknado franchise. Special mention goes to the generous use of stock footage for spacecraft and ruined cities from the likes of Rocketship X-M, Lost Continent, Flight to Mars and Captive Women. Oh, and dinosaurs from One Million B.C., because Ro-Man can also unleash giant lizards on the earth or something.

Despite the recycled special effects, the score is completely original and by no less a Hollywood luminary than Elmer Bernstein. A few years before his classics such as The Man with the Golden Arm and The Magnificent Seven, Bernstein was still a jobbing composer, and had, according to him, been side-lined in some areas of Hollywood due to his left-wing politics. His score for Robot Monster is a mix of bombastic and discord and sounds like it should belong in a much better film.

There is also a Shaggy dog story twist ending (SPOILER ALERT), which actually makes the whole baffling premise work. It turns out the whole thing has been a nightmare in the mind of little Johnny, which explains the incoherent and childish feel to the plot.

The Swimmer (1968)

The Swimmer is both a melancholy look at a man's life that is falling apart and an unsentimental look at the pitfalls of nostalgia.

Based on a short story by John Cheever, the plot centres on Ned Merrill (a buff looking Burt Lancaster), a middle aged ad man who decides to swim his way home via his neighbour's backyard pools. Both the day and Ned's mood start off bright, but as each pool brings up people he hasn't seen for a while, and the memories associated with them things take a dark turn. Gradually we learn more about Ned, and he learns some painful lessons about himself.

The script is very talky, but it is dialogue packed with irony and double meaning. Director Frank Perry (with one uncredited scene helmed by Sydney Pollock) has plenty of cinematic style with some fast cuts and odd angles. The occasional shift into soft focus seems to be signifying wistful yearning for the past. But it always resolves into something downbeat, and there is always something dark behind the facile grins.

While The Swimmer starts off in a realistic fashion, the film gradually takes on a more dreamlike and allegorical quality, enhanced by the stiff detached delivery of some of the lines. As the disconnect between surface appearances and reality becomes wider, day turns to evening, sunshine to rain, happiness to sadness.

Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977)

Apart from having a damn great title, Death Bed: The Bed That Eats is a baffling but compelling mix of horror, black comedy, inventiveness and incompetence.

For once with an exploitation film, it delivers on that title. There is a plot of some sort, something about a demon in love with a woman who died in the titular bed, and an artist trapped in a painting who, in a voice that disconcertingly sounds like Stephen Fry, taunts the demon while providing a narration of sorts. But the focus is on four set pieces, each labelled with meal related intertitles, where unsuspecting folk wind up on the mattress menu.

At times it reminded me of Hausu, which was released in the same year. But it lacks the relentless breakneck pace of that loopy Japanese classic, going instead for a momentum free druggy torpor, where the characters almost stagger around, disconnected from reality.

Luckily, there's enough going on to stop things getting dull. The premise is loopy enough and director George Barry (in his only attempt at film making) accompanied it by some equally surreal visuals, and a harsh jarring synth soundtrack. Barry doesn't skimp on two other vital ingredients. There is plenty of gore, such as a woman getting garrotted by her own crucifix. There is plenty of weird humour, such as the bed drinking a bottle of Pepto-Bismol after a particularly hard to digest victim. Coupled with some hammy acting, it sometimes feels like a Monty Python sketch.

If you're looking for plot, characters and slick film making, this may not be for you. But, if you like brain stretching freaky chutzpah, Death Bed: The Bed That Eats is well worth a look.