Starring Anne Reiss, Joseph Michael, Monica Moehring and Lloyd Kaufman
Unrated
USA
"Check out my new gloves. I just got 'em. What do you think?"
While not only having one of the best movies titles of all time, Bloodbath in the House of Knives also happens to faithfully pay homage to the Giallo film with both the unique stylistic flourishes of the curious Italian horror/mystery genre that in English translates to "yellow" due to the fact that the style, which originated in book form, was generally printed with yellow covers (looky here). But let's not get bogged down with lernin'; on with the show!
The film begins with a comely lass coming home to drink some milk. While enjoying her calcium rich beverage, she notices that her back door is wide open. As she stands there trying to figure out what's up, a black clad stranger comes behind her and slits her throat.
He then proceeds to stab her vagina for an excruciatingly long time, which harkens back to the Italian film peculiarity of featuring some of the most violent and offensive violations of female genitalia ever to witness celluloid; but you don't want to see that.
After that charming opener, we are in main character Ivy's (Anne Reiss) bedroom when she receives a creepy, exhaustively detailed, and slightly effeminate answering machine (do they still make those?) message from someone who knows her name warning her that "soon we will be together", which unnerves poor Ivy.
Ivy's sister Violet (Monica Moehring) comes over and is all like "stop your whining, let's get Audi 5000" and they take off to a magic-type live show where they meet Ivy's father just as the main act, a hypnosis exhibition, is beginning. The hypnotist brings an audience member up and does his jibber-jabber on him. The long and short of it is, hypnotized dude goes bonkers and starts to choke Ivy's dad to death. Then he gets all shot up by a mysterious (and black glove wearing) audience member; but only after Ivy's dad himself is dead.
Now the coppers are all in this hizzle and questioning all involved, particularly the hypnotist(John Link) who vehemently denies having anything to do with the murder. And who wouldn't believe him?
When the lead detective on the case questions Ivy and Violet, we find out that the hypnotized guy was a friend of Ivy's family and had never shown any signs of violent tendencies prior to that event. But enough of that downer shit; let's do shots!
It turns out that the bar the ladies are grieving in is owned by a douchey thug named Nick who is blackmailing Ivy over secrets he has about her. I then asked myself why Ivy would go to a place where the owner is someone that has it out for her, but then I stopped thinking. Anyway, regarding all this, Ivy has had it up to here:
After the whole Ivy/Nick thing is done, Ivy and Violet take off together, while their other friend, Penny (Brandy Lee), heads to her own place. Once there we get the old "Hey, this POV shot looks like the killer's - aren't those the same gloves?" false start (because it's only her boyfriend Eric (Zach Meitzler) with some new motorcycle gloves) thing. Gotcha!
Anyways, homegirl goes to take a bath and Eric microwaves up some 'roni and gets stabbed from behind; dying with the words I would probably utter upon my own (completely figurative) stabbing death: "Oh shit."
Well, black gloved killer (who is now wearing a smiling Greek theatre mask) smothers Penny with the shower curtain until she passes out.
Penny wakes up in what looks like a basement; wrists tied to the ceiling. As you might imagine, some very vile things (which have absolutely nothing to do with kabobs, a table of knives, or another creepy, exhaustively detailed, and slightly effeminate message) proceed to happen to Penny. But let's think of happier times, shall we?
From this point on, Ivy's friend's and family continue to meet their demise at the hands of this menacing killer while at the same time the murderer continues getting closer to Ivy herself. Who is this madman, and why is he (or she) killing everyone that Ivy cares for? Well, you're just going to have to find that stuff out yourself. In the meantime, watch the trailer.
Ultimately, if what you like about Giallos include lingering shots of inanimate objects, story-lines so needlessly convoluted that the convolution becomes the entertainment, brutal and unflinching violence, or characters so emotionally detached from what is happening that it rivals that of the archetypal 80's movie parent, then Bloodbath in the House of Knives is for you!
Go to Oldies or MVD to get yourself hooked up with this and other great films from Alpha Home Video.
AKA Hot Ticket
AKA Hard Run
Directed by Lev Spiro Starring Maria Ford, Nikki Fritz Rated R USA
“What are you doing out here in that get-up?”
Made midway through Roger Corman’s 90’s strippersploitation cycle by Lev Spiro – who cut his teeth on Emmanuelle softcore romps before graduating to upper-tier TV series like Weeds and Ugly Betty, Strip for Action (AKA Hot Ticket, another nonsensical title) attempts to merge the nutcase-vs-strippers antics of Stripteaser with an outdoor adventure, complete with campfire songs and white water rafting.
So, a comedy then?
Not if you ask star Maria Ford, who plays out the absurd hijinks with a stiff upper lip and a blood-freezing glare. I guess we better take this one seriously. Although that’s a little hard to do, since Maria has her top off less than two-minutes into the movie, during an opening credits striptease.
It’s a good night at Club Capone, but it looks like trouble is brewing in the alley. A couple thugs – calculating mastermind Halleck (Emile Levisetti) and long-haired psycho Jones (Kevin Alber) put on pantyhose masks and start unloading a suitcase full of guns. One of the club’s many security goons interrupts them, so they shoot him right in the neck.
So then the crooks go in there to rob the joint – they’re in cahoots with one of the employees, some clown named Frank (Kevin Walker, in his last acting role) – but somebody flinches, and they pretty much shoot everybody, except for a couple of people, including Kim (Ford), who was fucking her boyfriend Vic (Kevin Contreras) - the club’s manager - in the basement during the massacre. Vic and Kim and Uncle Stu (Bob McFarland, who also quit acting a few months after making this) – he owns the joint, and may or may not also be Kim’s uncle – all end up in the clutches of the bad guys, who have to wait until 6AM, then the timed safe opens up, to get their dough.
So it’s gonna be a weird night. Eventually they get the dough and take Kim and another stripper, Crystal (Nikki Fritz), hostage. Vic manages to get away and zooms off for help, but they catch up with him. Halleck plans on killing him, but Kim talks him out of it, because Vic is a pilot, and they need somebody to fly their plane. There’s a plane involved now. They all pile into one of those tiny propeller planes and go zooming off to Nevada. Unfortunately Jones, who is flying the plane, is dying of blood loss from a gunshot wound, so that’s not good. Also, Halleck keeps provoking everybody, and in a very exciting scene, just about everybody in the plane ends up either holding a gun or getting shot at. Kim even has the gun for a few minutes.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t have it in her to shoot the fucker. Also, all this gunplay inside the plane can’t end well, and eventually Jones get shot dead. The plane spirals out of control and crashes into a river! Luckily, everyone survives. Except Vic, maybe. He’s not around.
Even after a near-death experience, Halleck is still a dick. He gets into a tussle with cousin Frank, and while they roll around on the ground, the two wet strippers fuckin’ take off, man. Sadly, Crystal doesn’t like getting bossed around by Kim, so she gets caught almost immediately, and Halleck threatens to shoot her unless Kim comes back. She really shouldn’t care – Crystal obviously hates her – but she feels bad, so she goes back.
But hey, here’s some good news – Vic’s not dead! Hooray! More on him later. In the meantime, everybody has to climb a bunch of rocks, which is good, because Crystal is wearing a short cheerleader skirt, so we get to see her underwear as she climbs. Halleck notices too, and he starts to fall for her ample charms.
Also, Frank – who had a fling with Kim before Vic showed up – thinks that this might be the perfect time to pick up where they left off. Inappropriate, Frank! Anyway, Vic’s been hurling rocks at Kim from atop a mountain this whole time, so now she knows he’s still alive. So that makes her feel better.
Franks swears he saw a highway around there somewhere, so they continue to wander around, but there’s pretty much nothing but trees and rocks as far as the eyes can see. It starts to get dark, so they decide to make camp for the night. Halleck starts a fire and they drink some whiskey and Crystal suddenly develops Stockholm syndrome.
Then she does a striptease, and she and Halleck go off to fuck in the woods. And then they spoon and have a nice snooze. While all this is going on, Vic gets the chance to sneak up on them.
He almost gets the chance to bash Halleck’s brains in with a rock, but then he steps on a twig and wakes him up. Kim distracts him by yelling at him while Vic scampers away.
The next morning, they come across a couple dudes in a raft. Crystal acts as a decoy so they can get their boat. Kim tries to warn them, but it’s too late. Halleck offs 'em and absconds their raft.
And then…gratuitous white water rafting!
And then…Halleck kills a hiker!
And then…Frank and Crystal get it. But you knew that was gonna happen eventually.
And then…Vic shows back up and kicks Halleck’s ass, takes the money and his girl, and heads off into the sunset. The end.
Or is it?
Of course, it is not! Well, mostly it is. You know how it goes.
Strip for Action’s biggest problem is that its tone is uneven. The opening stripclub massacre is like something out of Reservoir Dogs – albeit with none of that film’s style or substance – and then it quickly switches to a Grizzly Adams-esque outdoor adventure with a smattering of pitch-black comedy, as the two bickering dancers attempt to outrun their witless captors. Still, it’s all fun to watch, especially the fumbling attempts at thrills and spills, like the hack rafting sequence, where the girls are told to lie down so that it won’t look weird in wide shots when there’s only two people in the boat. Also, it’s hard not to like Emile Levisetti’s portrayal of the completely non-threatening arch-fiend Halleck. Even after murdering a dozen people, he still seems more more like a douche-y insurance agent than a ruthless criminal mastermind. Nikki Fritz’s snotty, back-stabbing stripper is another highlight, as is all of Maria Ford’s nostril-flaring and teeth-gritting. It’s noAngel of Destruction or Stripteaser, but fans of boobs, blood, and ridiculous Z-movie premises will definitely want to check this dopey little low-budget killer-thriller out.
Starring Ruby Larocca, Jessica Alexandra Green, Steve Nebesni, and Bill Zebub
Unrated
USA
"I've been wounded and the only way to heal is to extract the sacred meal from your bowels."
The first time I heard of or saw Bill Zebub was in the kinda-real, kinda-not documentary S&man (pronounced Sandman). More than anything, I recall getting pretty upset by how director J.T. Petty tried relentlessly to make Mr. Zebub look like a complete idiot. Sure, take a dude who's been drinking all day and then tell him to make a movie on the spot. Of course it turned out bad.
Anyway, what he was up to didn't really seem to be of my interests, but as I heard more and more of him, particularly regarding his film Ravage the Scream Queen being banned in Canada for obscenity and for his continuous output concerning eroticized rape, I started to get a little curious; at least to the point that I figured I should check out one of these low-brow travesties - for journalistic purposes, of course.
Well, along came Zombiechrist (or Zombie Christ, depending on where you look), and my interest was piqued sufficiently enough to give Mr. Zebub a try. The trailer alone let me know that this was going to be more than just an exercise in depraved and viscous sexual assault made for depraved and viscous sexual assault enthusiasts, so it had that much going for it at least.
I mean sure, Jesus does his fair share of anal fisting:
and turkey drumstick vagina spelunking:
...but its all done with an obvious light-hearted, if not somewhat blase approach overall.
The story itself pretty much goes like this: A butt-rock druid cult in Kashmir, India does a ritual to resurrect Jesus and use him to destroy the remaining bloodline of Himself and issue in the New Age of something-or-other. But most importantly, the ritual involves naked chicks dancing around all hippie-like for over 5 minutes.
After Zombiechrist is risen, he awkwardly hobbles around the world violating and killing his peeps (who for the most part just happen to be really hot, completely naked women) with his laser Messiah eyes.
The only potential victim to be privy of this whole Zombiechrist hoopla is the coincidentally named (and rightfully skeptical) Mary (Jessica Alexandra Green):
who fortunately has a super intense religious scholar dude (Steve Nebesni):
...to protect her from the post-maturely excavated Prince of Peace.
Touted as "the most blasphemous story ever told" (and if you're a normal human or a believer in the modern mythology, you're probably not gonna wanna watch this), Zombie Christ tries hard to offend, but more often than not, it's more likely you'll be shaking your head and smiling for the fact that this thing actually made it from idea to reality. But, if you like sexy naked ladies, irreverent scenes of offensive ridiculousness (all of which are handled in an extremely silly (and occasionally poorly CGI'ed manner) or vulgar displays of slow motion butt-rock kung-fu, this is a high recommend.
Directed by Roy Ward Baker
Starring Ingrid Pitt, Peter Cushing, Pippa Steel, Madeline Smith Rated R UK
“This is a silly story.”
The first film in Hammer’s infamous boobs n’ blood soaked lesbian vampire trilogy, The Vampire Lovers is based on Carmilla, a novel by J. Sheridan Le Fanu. The film – like its loosely-connected follow-ups, 1971’s Lust for a Vampire and 1972’s Twins of Evil, follows the be-fanged antics of the cursed Karnstein clan, a family of beautiful, busty vampire girls. The Vampire Lovers was Ingrid Pitt’s first film for Hammer, and along with 1971’sCountess Dracula, it propelled her into cult-horror stardom, and she remained a very active and popular figure in vampire film-lore until she died in 2010 at the age of 73. Directed by Roy Ward Baker (who also died in 2010, at the very ripe age of 93), who had previously made the creepy sci-fi flick Quatermass and the Pit for Hammer, The Vampire Lovers established the tone and intensity that the company would return to again and again for the rest of the decade, mixing steamy sex and graphic violence with pitch-black humor and a palpable sense of dread. It was a winning formula that made millions for Hammer, and many of the company’s signature flourishes started here.
Vampire Lovers boasts an awesomely cheeseball pre-credit sequence wherein a velvet-draped, middle-aged fop with deplorable haircut prowls around his cobweb-choked cardboard castle keeping a stoney eye out for the latest ghoul from the Karnstein clan to show up. After a very Scooby Doo-esque dance in the cemetery outside the castle walls, the shrouded apparition heads into town where he, she, or it chomps down on a local outside a busy tavern.
Then the Karnstein creep zooms back over to Hartog’s place. Our man is momentarily disarmed when the monster reveals itself, and turns out to be a gorgeous young blonde (Danish actress Kirsten Lindholm). As the toothy beauty attempts to embrace the transfixed Hartog, her heaving bosom touches the crucifix around his neck. Naturally, being a vampire, she recoils and sprouts fangs. Hartog responds by pulling out a sword and graphically cutting her fuckin’ head off. Roll credits!
Laura (the awesomely named Pippa Steel) is a wealthy young socialite, engaged to the dashing Carl (Jon Finch). We meet the young couple at Laura’s lavish birthday party, hosted by her uncle, General von Spielsdorf (Peter Cushing). There’s all sorts of dancing and twirling and sipping of beverages, and then The Countess (Dawn Addams) shows up - that’s her official name on the credits, btw, “The Countess – with her daughter, Marcilla (Ingrid Pitt). Apparently, they’ve just moved into the neighborhood. All the men are immediately drawn to Marcilla, except for Carl. He’s already got her sussed out.
Suddenly, some bone-white freak shows up at the party and whispers something into the Countess’s ear. She dismisses him and then tells the General she’s got to split, because a friend of hers is dying. She asks the General to look after Marcilla until she gets back. He agrees. He thinks she’ll get along good with Laura. Oh brother, will she ever, General!
Marcilla and the ashen weirdo exchange fiendish grins as he gallops off, leaving her in the care of the general.
The next day, Laura and Marcilla share a warm, cozy moment in the garden. Laura clearly forgot to turn on her gaydar. That night, Laura dreams about a giant cat and wakes up screaming. She screams for a really, really long time. Kind of an overreaction to a nightmare, if you ask me. Or maybe not, because Laura never recovers. She grows weaker everyday, and refuses to see anyone but Marcilla. The doctor things she’s anemic. And he’s totally right. Anyway, after a couple of days, she dies. The doc shows up, pulls out her boob, and listens to it with his ear-horn, just to make sure. That’s when he notices the bite marks. Can it be? Was Laura bitten by…a vampire?
Why yes, she was. And if you haven’t figured that out yet, they show you a close-up of Marcilla’s gravestone.
Meanwhile, somewhere nearby, a bosomy young woman saunters though a graveyard late at night, clutching a basket. This seems like an unwise thing to do in lesbian vamp-land. She doesn’t last long out there. There's a huntress on the prowl!
Emma (gorgeous 70’s scream queen Madeline Smith) was Laura’s best bud. She happens to be out for a horse ride in the woods with her dad when a carriage crashes in front of them. Long story short, the Countess and Marcilla – who the Countess now refers to as Carmilla – are in the carriage. The Countess pulls the same routine on Emma and her dad, and they fall for it. He insists they take Carmilla home while the Countess attends to her sick brother or whoever. She splits, and Carmilla suddenly has a sexy new plaything.
Things get a little crazy from there. Carmilla takes a bath and then Emma gets naked too, and they start chasing each other around the room. They become best buds after that.
Things are going pretty good until Emma starts having scary dreams, just like Laura did. Big cats and what have you. She starts feeling sick, just like Laura did, as well. Also like Laura, she doesn’t appear to pick up on any of Carmilla’s subtle sexual come-ons.
After awhile, you start to wonder if Emma might be retarded, because she just doesn’t get anything. Her recurring dreams about giant cats and getting fur in her mouth, and then kissing Carmilla and feeling “pin-pricks of pain” – I mean, what the fuck, Emma? You’re best friend is a vampire, dummy. A lesbian vampire!
So anyway, after Emma goes on and on about her dreams, Carmilla makes sweet lesbian vampire love to her, although Emma looks hypnotized through the whole thing, so it might be consensual. Also, immediately afterwards, Carmilla seduces Emma’s foxy governess, Mademoiselle Perrodot (Kate O’Mara, Dynasty). Unlike Emma, Mademoiselle understands girl-on-girl passion. By the way, there’s full-frontal happening in this scene. 1970 was fucking crazy.
Emma’s dad is away on business while all these sexy hijinks are going down, so he calls on Carl to head over there and make sure everything’s ok. Only by now, Mademoiselle is under Carmilla’s sway, so she shoos him away.
Emma, at this point, is at death’s door. Her dad’s butler, Renton, suggests they call the doctor, but Mademoiselle tells him she doesn’t think it’s necessary. So fuck it, he goes to the tavern to get loaded. While there, he starts blabbing about the goings-on at the house, and the barkeep suggests he may have bigger trouble than he imagines. Vampire trouble!
So fuck it, Renton calls a doctor-slash-vampire slayer, and he comes by to help out. He puts a crucifix around Emma’s neck, and Renton spruces the room up with garlic flowers. This works wonders for repelling both Carmilla and Mademoiselle. The doctor, on the other hand, is not so lucky. Carmilla hunts him down on his way home. You think he’d have stuffed some of that garlic in his pockets before he left. So really, there’s only one thing left to do. The General and Emma’s dad meet up with old man Hartog to end this lunacy.
The fellas head out to Karnstein castle while, back at the house, Renton bangs a gong. Not sure why. It’s possible that vampires don’t like gongs. Or maybe they do, because the next thing you know, he’s making out with Carmilla. Don’t fall for it Renton, she’s not into dudes!
Too late, Renton’s evil now. Unless something happens soon, Emma’s done for! Meanwhile, back at the castle, the senior citizen vampire killer brigade has located Carmilla’s grave, but not her coffin. If they can find it, they can just wait until she returns, and then blammo – stake through the heart.
Also meanwhile, Carmilla drags sickly Emma out of bed and tells her she’s taking her home. Mademoiselle wants to go too, but Carmilla’s finished with her already.
But just then, Carl shows up. With a sword, no less! Of course, it’s going to take more than that to end Carmilla’s reign of terror. It’s going to take…well, it’s going to take the usual bullshit, really.
Growing up as tyke in the 70’s, I remember seeing this and many other Hammer films on TV, during the Saturday afternoon “Creature Double Features”. Of course, those versions were chopped to bits, cutting out anything remotely salacious. Because of this, I spent a good amount of my adult life thinking Hammer horrors were boring and bloodless, since all I really remembered about them were British accents and pilgrim hats. Seeing them as 30 years later in their uncut and uncensored form, however, is an entirely different experience. Clearly, these were adult films, packed wall-to-wall with bare skin and grisly mayhem, and The Vampire Lovers delivers both in meaty fistfuls.
Although she was clearly ten years too old for the role, I can’t think of a more perfect actress than Ingrid Pitt to portray Camilla, the sad and horny vampire with the adorably unsophisticated Polish accent. Like every man and woman in this film, I was inexorably drawn to her, and it’s easy to see why she became a horror legend shortly after this was released. The lesbian vampire film is one of cinema’s greatest gift to hardcore girl-watchers, and the template for hundreds of girl-on-girl fangfests started here. Bloody, sexy, funny, shocking, and delightfully campy, The Vampire Lovers is a masterpiece of over-the-top horror. Highly recommended.
While not only having one of the best movies titles of all time, Bloodbath in the House of Knives also happens to faithfully pay homage to the Giallo film with both the unique stylistic flourishes of the curious Italian horror/mystery genre that in English translates to "yellow" due to the fact that the style, which originated in book form, was generally printed with yellow covers (looky here). But let's not get bogged down with lernin'; on with the show!
