Showing posts with label cruelty to animals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cruelty to animals. Show all posts

Sunday, October 8, 2023

Polish my Helmut – or, more Cushing for the pushing

Violence -- sexual or otherwise -- has long been cinema's favorite excuse for bare breasts. And these films supply all of the above, plus other pendulous globes! 



Mad Dog (1977) 
[aka Beast with a Gun, etc.]

Grade: C

Oh, Helmut Berger. A cautionary tale of wasted talent, or an example of someone who got the most out of what was predestined to be a limited shelf life? A charismatic chameleon and a born star, or a passaround boy who lucked into the infatuated gaze of fawning directors?

Well, probably the former (in each case). Berger exudes magnetism and danger, like the proverbial caged tiger, and you can't fake that with clever cinematography. He must have been part of what made Visconti's The Damned so striking, though the present writer mostly remembers the Night of the Long Knives scenes.

Such a shame when bad things happen to...people.




Clearly the makers of Mad Dog -- aka Beast with a Gun, The Human Beast, Mad Dog Killer, or La belva col mitra if you want the original Italian -- knew Berger was their star attraction. So they give him just the kind of role in which he shines, as Nanni Vitali, an absolutely ruthless, sexually voracious criminal who escapes from prison and is hell-bent on revenge.

No doubt they had Berger at "ruthless", his forte.




And they give him plenty of screen time, including a protracted shot of his bare backside if you're into that sort of thing, and pretty much all the best lines. More than once it borders on camp, intentionally or not, as when a detective (seemingly) meets his end in a fiery crash:

"That was a nice sight! A well-done dick."

You don't say, Helmut Berger! You don't say.




That detective, one Commissioner Santini (Richard Harrison), has one thing going for him: dude is absolutely jacked. Unlike a lot of policeman protagonists, you get the feeling that this cop could literally overpower the villain. He's got muscles and brains, so what's not to like?

Well, as opposed to (for example) Dirty Harry, Santini is too much of a straight hero to get the good lines. I suppose you could count his Smash Mouth moment about 12 minutes in -- "Vitali's like a mad dog!" -- but that only works on a meta, presentist level.




Actually a bunch of Santini's dialogue hits very strangely in 2023, in that he'll be saying something fairly routine but finishes off with something that sounds like a low-karma Reddit post. See, for example, when he excoriates Vitali for his cowardice:

"You're a filthy hyena. And you have the courage of one. You're only brave as long as you've got that gun, so you can terrorize helpless females."




Oh, hey, I got a work call and have to go home early but it was great meeting you!

Or how about when he, uh, excoriates Vitali for his cowardice again?

"You're a coward. You think you're a genius but you're just a common killer. There's a whole race of people like you, Vitali!"

That's...that sure is a thing you just said, that was said, by you.

On the other hand, we cracked up when a perfectly reasonable request from his Kim Clijsters-looking hostage, Carla (Marina Giordana), got this nasty reply from Vitali:

"I'm thirsty."
"So have a drink, twat!"

Once again, the bad guy gets all the good lines.

Of course this also betrays the fundamentally mean-spirited attitude of Mad Dog. Sure, modern viewers aren't likely to be bothered by its violence -- a bit of which was trimmed out of the Mill Creek print, though the only significant cut we identified actually improves the movie.

(The guy was face-down in a puddle and looked dead as a doornail, so bringing him back to have him cry out in agony? Not a good idea.)

But the "sexy man rapes woman, kills mate to demonstrate alpha status, and may have induced Stockholm Syndrome with his mighty phallus" angle of the film is uncomfortable. Arguably Mad Dog tries to have its cake and eat it too, though we can't communicate how without spoilers, but it's clear the film wants us to think she was ambivalent.

A subtler and more provocative moment comes in the homoerotic subtext between Vitali and the young criminal he picks up (Alberto Squillante). The way Helmut Berger looks at this Bimbo -- no, really, the character's name is Bimbo -- is tough to pass off as merely a kind of paternal affection.

Perhaps Berger put a bit of his authentic self into the role, since it's hard to imagine "Act like you want to bang the delinquent someday" was in the script.



It's also refreshing that Vitali isn't a Criminal Minds-style genius or master karateka, but someone who gets by strictly on his looks, ruthlessness, and cunning. He fumbles an attempted hit on a witness, keeps getting cornered like a rat, and even fails to perform in one fight scene, when a botched swing has him missing the victim entirely: "Bruno! Punch him!" he shouts.

Playing it off was cheaper than a reshoot, I guess.

Oh, and the print looks good enough, but very occasionally something gets cropped to comic effect, like this entrance:


Anyway, Mad Dog has multiple plot holes -- the one at the beginning, involving an unloaded gun, is comically obvious -- and a nasty streak. Even with lines like "I'll be in town...making hamburger out of the motherfucker!", is Helmut Berger enough to carry this one?

It depends on what you want from your hour-and-a-half of entertainment. It was probably bracing in 1977, but hard to predict people's reaction now. Maybe it's got a bit of the "too much of this, not enough of that" syndrome.

Quentin Tarantino seems to like it, prominently featuring the film in Jackie Brown. As for whatever Berger thought, he seems to have given it his all. Or makes us think he did.




Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride (1973)
[aka The Satanic Rites of Dracula]

Grade: D

Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride relies upon the premise that a bunch of high-ranking British muckety-mucks are in a secret society engaging in unspeakable, depraved acts with vulnerable persons. I mean, how gullible did Jimmy Carreras think we are, to toss a vile notion like that at us?


This wasn't quite Christopher Lee's last appearance as Dracula -- there's a horror comedy (shudder) yet to come -- but it's his last with Hammer. To be honest, the only other time we've seen Lee don the cape was in Jess Franco's Dracula (which we're not reviewing, as we'd have nothing interesting to say), so we don't have lots of context for his work as the Count.

This time around, his charisma is undiminished, his accent silly, and he just doesn't get all that much to do.


Meanwhile Peter Cushing is Professor Lorrimer Van Helsing -- one of the many fictional descendants of that fearless vampire hunter, who take to the job like an orphaned beaver that instinctively builds dams. (And they do!)

No marginal old man, Van Helsing holds his own and plays his part -- despite repeatedly engaging in the vice of announcing what you're about to do instead of just doing it. And he even shows off some pendulous globes!


So why is Drac back? Just to frolic with mid-tier extras whose agents convince them going topless will help their careers?


No, he wants to kill everybody with a new strain of bubonic plague that kills "within seconds". Septicemic plague can take less than a day (once symptoms present), but the modern vampire is in a hurry!


If anything Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride seems to think that evil for its own sake is enough of a motivator. Van Helsing tells us it can be "more addictive and more potent than heroin, I assure you, and the end result is just as fatal". Paging Dinky Hocker.

And we get a speech from one Professor Kelsey to that effect -- someone who was apparently "awarded the Nobel Prize for science and humanity" (er, sure), yet now has thrown his lot in with the infernal:

"Evil rules, you know. It really does. Evil and violence are the only two measures that really hold any power."

As we get older, and see more things happen, the temptation to reply "Well...you're not wrong!" grows stronger.

In any event Dracula has two persecutors, as he's also harried (indirectly) by Inspector Murray (Michael Coles), a specialist from Scotland Yard.

Inspector Murray also has the hots for Van Helsing's granddaughter Jessica (Joanna Lumley), for whom we do not have the hots.


Coles has one of those creepy old-young faces (like Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones), a big part of which is the way his haircut inspires cognitive dissonance (also like Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones).

(Not to mention the guy mentioned in red above: seriously, how could the world not twig Jimmy "Jim'll Fix It" Savile as a creep? That weird-haired burly man-child gave us the jibblies the first time we saw him.)




On the other hand, Coles is very good at projecting that "boxer who just took a hard hit to the end but is going to keep on fighting" thing, which is a lot more convincing than the usual impervious action-hero crap.

...speaking of which, Van Helsing (the elder and handsomer one) gets shot in the head, yet they don't bother to explain his immediate recovery or why he's not dead. Would one line about "Somehow, it ricocheted off my skull" really go amiss?


Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride is pretty phoned-in, more so as it goes on. The first 30 minutes or so are moderately entertaining but before long, the plot and pacing are in danger of falling below "Sega CD FMV game" standards. It relies too heavily on people doing stupid things, and needed more pulchritude to keep its audience too titillated to notice its flaws.

(Our understanding is that we're not missing any significant footage vs. the original release under the Satanic Rites of Dracula title, but we could be wrong. Correct us if we are, since a "Well, actually" comment would at least indicate that someone's reading!)

But is it watchable? Sure, it's watchable: what movie with T and/or A isn't, one might ask? (Some entries hence, you'll get an answer to that, courtesy of Ed Wood.)

And some of those action scenes get pretty funny at 4x speed, which is how you play them back if you're reviewing a movie a couple years after you first watched it. As one does.



Obviously, we haven't been able to post much lately. That happens sometimes -- but far be it from us to allow 2023 to pass without an entry.

Perhaps this will mark a renaissance at the Umbrellahead Review, as we catch up on our backlog and start going steady again? We look forward to that day!

Saturday, December 22, 2018

The fourth estate

It's been over a decade since we started making our way through the 250 (ish) films in the Mill Creek Horror Collection. At long last, we've arrived at the tail end of the box, with just two movies left -- two! -- that neither of us have ever seen before.

And what do they have in common, besides aliens and space and other science fiction tropes? There are a few options, like blowing up heavenly bodies (happens in both), teleportation (ditto), or ripping off established science fiction classics (that's a hat trick).

But we'll choose this: in both films, press conferences are held in which the very fate of the earth is called into question.


    Warning from Space (1956)

    Grade: D

    These last two films in 50 Sci-Fi Classics really do bring us full circle, as Warning from Space amply demonstrates. Even if we didn't have the literal (and adorable) "star men" seen above, its Japanese origins and style would certainly remind us of the Super Giant films we watched near the very outset of our 250-pack quest.

    Once again the Mill Creek compilers show discernment by pairing Warning from Space on the same disc with They Came from Beyond Space. Perhaps we should have reviewed them together, as they really do share a lot of themes -- like having scientists as protagonists, and showing them in the field.

    Or aliens who, in need of a spokesperson, choose to inhabit a human female body.

    Or societies that conceive of themselves in terms of politeness and fair play, and that are left curiously defenseless against those who transgress those norms.

    Or weird stuff that pops up from a pond, while the soundtrack uses a grating electronic tone to make sure we catch on to its "alienness".

    Anyway, Warning from Space is basically Japan's version of When Worlds Collide with a dash of The Day The Earth Stood Still. There's a whole lot of looking through telescopes and firing off rockets --

    --  interspersed with philosophical arguments, cultural activities, and the occasional dance number.

    By deciding to make Japan their point of contact, did the aliens inadvertently guarantee that the rest of the world would drag their feet? There's a whiff of that in the film -- an aggrieved undertone of "Why aren't they taking us seriously? Why are they refusing our requests for help?" --


    -- to which the events of 1931-1945 might be a plausible answer. (Just saying.)

    Warning from Space might rate a notch or two higher if it weren't for the cavalier way it handles a crucial plot thread near the end. It cheapens the narrative, and would have been so easy to fix! And we can't blame the dubbing, since it's apparently quite faithful.

    The fun is also dampened by scenes near the end that show various animals in distress. The intention is to evoke our compassion by reminding us of how they too would suffer in the oppressive heat, but can we trust that none were harmed in the making of this film? Probably not.

    On the other hand, that alien chick has one hell of a serve. Naomi Osaka, watch out!



    Cosmos: War of the Planets (1977)
    [aka War of the Planets, aka Anno zero - Guerra nello spazio]

    Objective Grade: F

    Plus WTF Withal: D

    Cosmos: War of the Planets isn't quite the last film on the box set: that honor goes to Destroy All Planets, a Gamera film we already reviewed. But it's on the last side of the last disc, at least.

    And boy, did Mill Creek pick a doozy to finish things up -- because War of the Planets is one bizarre, scattershot, fever dream of a movie.

    There was always going to be some background weirdness since War of the Planets has the same director (Alfonso Brescia), and much of the same cast, as a film we've already seen, War of the Robots.

    Heck, it's even got Aldo Canti as an unexpectedly friendly alien who joins the starship's crew late in the film -- playing almost the exact same role he did in Robots.

    But War of the Planets is much, much weirder than either Robots or the other Brescia film we've seen, Star Odyssey. Those films at least made some attempt to present a coherent narrative (despite the swapped reel in Star Odyssey), but War of the Planets is just completely and utterly out-to-lunch from the start.

    It's never a good sign when you can barely understand the film's opening scene, in which the crew seems to be on a collision course with debris from a stellar explosion. Their computer refuses to route around it, confounding the crew and leaving them headed for certain doom --

    -- only to discover that the object hurtling toward them was, as the ship's computer tells us in an announcement whose beginning is obscured by the crew's cheers, merely "a refraction of a cosmic explosion occurring 10 million years ago."

    And that's why it didn't steer clear: the object wasn't even there. Guess Compy knows best, eh, folks?


    In the original Italian version of War of the Planets, the title sequence (which follows the scene above) had a song all its own. Its refrain:

    We are not alone here in space
    Because here in space we have brothers

    It's as hilarious as it sounds, but given the singer's thick accent -- and habit of switching between English and Italian -- it's understandable that "We Are Not Alone Here In Space" was pulled for the foreign dub (though a fragment of it pops up at around 8:45, who knows why?).

    Instead, we get an extended sequence of avant-garde electronic patter, which accompanies long shots of asteroids, starfields, spaceports, and some amazing attempts at Anglicizing the names of the Italian crew.

    Next, the film's protagonist, Captain Fred Hamilton (John Richardson), walks up to one of his co-workers, greets him, and clocks him for no discernible reason.

    When Captain Hamilton is called on the carpet for his fisticuffs, and arguments ensue about "a bunch of notes from an electronic hunk of metal" vs. "the greatest brain ever made by man", we know we're dealing with one of those man vs. machine movies. And contrary to some other reviewers, we wouldn't describe this as a hidden subtext of War of the Planets, because it's about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

    Does a guy nearly get himself killed while doing a space-walking operation? And does the Captain need to fly to his rescue, after the computer's automated assistance isn't nearly fast enough? It's all the fault of those damn machines, machines, we built them to serve us.

    Or does a couple engage in some sort of strange, alienated cybersex through a glass ball that looks kind of like the Death Star?

    "How long?"
    "Whatever."
    (flips switch)
    "Violent, or gentle?"
    "You decide."
    (flips switch)

    Yep, it's the machines, machines, they're gonna be our bed.

    Don't worry, some of us still know how to get it on properly. We don't even have to go to Tangie Town.

    And some of us are named "Oko" and have overdubbed Asian accents -- who knows if that was in the original -- despite strong evidence that we don't hail from that neck of the woods.

    The person who put together the soundtrack for War of the Robots really likes the Bach Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Eventually he caves in and just uses a recording of the Bach directly -- an excerpt at 23 minutes, and a long chunk around 51 minutes -- but it's present from the very first shot of the film, when the oscillations of a star are accompanied by a rapid-fire version of the Toccata's opening riff.


    At other times, it's sped up even further and used as a sound effect for computer alerts and big banks of blinkenlights. And when we're not hearing the Toccata, we're hearing Switched-On-style synth tunes inspired by Bach (but without any of his chops).

    The captain may hate computers, but his superiors happily take their orders from the supercomputer Wiz. When a mysterious interstellar signal disrupts communications on Earth, Wiz somehow knows that "behind this strange signal there's an alien intelligence that knows all", and "orders [them] to find the emission source and destroy it".

    (Perhaps the wise Wiz could also have noted that the signal is just the freakin' Toccata lick sped up by a factor of 20. Haven't you ever played Dark Castle, Wiz?)

    And guess who gets the job? OK, a mysterious woman has to persuade the Captain, though we get no backstory or explanation of why this Dr. Jane Frazier has such a sway on his judgment. Her appearance is so brief as to almost be a cameo, while the actress is uncredited and unknown to us.

    It's yet another example of the seat-of-your-pants style of scriptwriting -- and direction, and editing -- that War of the Robots seems to favor. No narrative conventions needed, just full speed ahead at all times.

    Soon enough, the captain and his crew get to the mysterious planet from which the emissions are coming. From there, things play out like a cross between War of the Robots and pretty much any episode of Star Trek where Kirk et al. encounter a "primitive" people. There's always someone pulling the strings, and if it's not a disembodied intelligence with godlike powers, it's usually a computer.

    Meanwhile his bosses back on Earth are being hounded by "newspapermen" (though they're certainly not all men).

    This prompts one of the only intentionally funny exchanges in the entire film. After the brass offer a reassuring explanation for recent events -- "I'm sorry for the headlines you had in mind, but Earth is not in any danger!" -- 

    -- the reporters scramble away to the nearest phones, with one man specifically shouting "Earth is in danger!" to his editor. The two military men look at each other and deadpan:

    Miller: Didn't buy it.
    Armstrong: Nope.

    The occasional chuckle aside, War of the Planets is a gigantic mess. It manages to both drag and rush, with botched transitions and sequences that go on too long. Characters talk over each other for no reason; scenes are interrupted mid-sentence; the action shifts from place to place, seemingly at random, leaving us uncertain as to what's going on or what's happened to whom. Seldom have we ever spent as much time glancing at each other and silently mouthing "WTF?"

    In other words, both the editing and direction are atrocious. (And the prop department kinda phoned it in too.)

    How much of the incoherence comes from the dubbing process is unclear, though seeing the Italian original would be the gold standard here. On a technical level the English dub is mostly decent (especially since some of the actors were speaking English anyway!), though we do get one or two gloriously ridiculous moments when a character takes a long, unnatural pause mid-sentence.

    And the cinematography is fine -- nice, even -- though maybe we're just responding to the pretty colors and flashing lights, since we haven't hit the Pink Floyd show at the planetarium and we're jonesing.

    As a side note, what on earth is this crucifix doing in a random explosion sequence? If there's a hidden Christian message in this film, it's buried pretty deep.

    War of the Planets completely loses its marbles toward the end, when it veers wildly from ripping off 2001: A Space Odyssey to ripping off who-knows-what-they-were-trying-for (Planet of the Vampires gets brought up a lot in other reviews, but we haven't seen it).

    But at least War of the Planets sticks by its core message: that humans shouldn't allow themselves to be too dependent on computers, lest we become weak, vulnerable, and alienated from our own humanity. Or something like that.

    Fortunately, there's absolutely nothing timely or relevant about that message, right? Sounds totally irrational to us.


    Don't you agree, Aldo Canti? You're everyone's favorite alien.



    Next up, the Umbrellahead Awards for 50 Sci-Fi Classics!