Paul Naschy. Paul Fucking Naschy. The name rolls off the tongue with a tremble, the words themselves containing no power yet when uttered together the earth shakes, virgins become pregnant, flocks of birds angrily take to the sky, and small children pee themselves in terror. As most of our astute readers know, the Vicar and I have an, um, "thing", for Mr. Naschy. Let me give a little background on our Lord for those who might not yet understand the mystique.
Paul Naschy was forged on an altar of evil by blind eunuchs invoking the names of the 8 Beasts from Beyond Time. His piercing eyes, his barrel chest, his penchant for sexing every woman who comes within his personal gravity: these are the reasons we love him. His muscles rippling beneath his bronze skin like insane caged pigs, starving for succor. The wild forelock of auburn hair on his head causes us to enter a torpor state of awesome. His unending joy at film making makes us understand why we love movies, and why we write passionately on this blog.
I bring to you one of Naschy's cinematic gems, the superbly titled "Night of the Howling Beast". And what a night it is! Our movie opens with 3 mountain climbers walking uphill through the snow. It is a blustery day in the Himalayas, and these gents are out for a stroll, when suddenly Chewbacca attacks! Driven mad by the keening caw of the minoc, Chewy knows only red rage as he tears into the hapless climbers. Luckily one of them thought to bring a Saturday Night Special and promptly pumps Chewbacca full of hollow-points.
We then cut to what must be an anthropologist's office, given all the stuffiness and plaid-elbow-patched-jacket'ness of it all. Enter Naschy, playing once again Waldemar Daninsky, followed by the professor. Naschy cuts a striking figure, his navy jacket barely able to contain his testosterone levels. We find out that Chewbacca didn't attack at all, and instead it was the fabled yeti of Nepal. (We can only assume Chewy is safe on Endor, feasting on Ewok intrails, which he has acquired a taste for)
"Why yes, Professor, I do wear Stetson cologne."
The professor tells Waldemar that some researchers found a yeti, and were never heard from again, but luckily their backpack had been recovered, along with a diary. The professor presents Waldemar with a "yeti scalp", which looks like someone shaved a beagle and then hot-glued its fur onto a swimming cap. Pronouncing that "there's no doubt it's authentic", he asks Waldemar to accompany him on an expedition to find this yeti, and perhaps sign it to a book contract. The professor notes that not only is Waldemar an anthropologist and a psychologist, but he's also fluent in Nepalese!
We cut to Nepal, where Waldemar drives up to a hotel in an army jeep while smoking a cigarette, a sight that is guaranteed to disintegrate every pair of panties within a 10 block radius. Waldemar meets up with the other researchers, including the professor's daughter Sylvia (grrr, baby, very grrr!) and their hulking guide Tiger, a beastly, bulging man who nevertheless proves to be mostly a coward.
Learning that the mountain passes are all but snowed in, Waldemar is angered, until Tiger informs him of a man who claims to know the way no matter the weather. Off they go! I was expecting some ancient Shirpa to fulfill this duty, instead they go to an opium den and find a sweaty bald white guy who for some reason knows his way around the Himalayas. Waldemar goes on with the sweaty dragon chaser while the rest of everyone heads off to base camp.
Waldemar is to meet up with them later, but 2 days pass and he still hasn't shown. Fearing him lost and or injured, the party sets out to find him, despite the ominous warnings from Tiger and his crew about "demons of the red moon" in the high mountain passes. Meanwhile, Waldemar and his "guide" are lost. Instead of consulting with the stars, using a map, or employing any other sort of survival technique, the guide sweats a few minutes, panics, and jumps off the side of K2. Waldemar is left on his own, but not for long!
We have a few scenes here, back and forth, of Waldemar wandering in the mountains and the folks back at base camp, trying to work up the nerve to go out after him. The Shirpas employee a ritual folk dance to work up their nerve, the band resembling a cross between Dexy's Midnight Runners and the J. Geils Band. Back with Waldemar, we see he's almost at the end of his sexy life when he spies a cave! Catching a whiff of freshly baked muffin, he heads inside to find it warm and inviting, with candles and pagan statues everywhere. It reminded me a lot of the Vicar's steam room, only with more candles and less nude gypsies.
"My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold!"
Just as Waldemar is starting to wonder where the toilet is, a sexy woman in a saucy outfit shows up, asking why Waldemar dropped by without so much as a bottle of Merlot. Before he passes out, Waldemar asks for sanctuary. He gets something, alright, but it isn't sanctuary, unless your definition includes naked women jumping on you while you are semi-conscious. Actually, that is exactly my definition of sanctuary. Waldemar can barely sit up before two wenches have disrobed and started sexing him, one of them rubbing herself all over his prone body while the other works his hog like a ravenous hound gnawing on a deer's femur. Miraculously, this cures Waldemar.
Paul opts for the continental breakfast.
Exhausted, Waldemar passes out again, only to awaken later, alone. He sets out to do some spelunking of a different kind and explore the cave's environs. He soon happens upon two of the wenches engaging in what would appear to be cannibalism. Horrified that their mouths were previously all over his supple body, Waldemar flees in disgust, only to find the way out blocked by a portcullis. Having no choice but to descend further into the cave, Waldemar sets off, but quickly runs into another room where a chick is kneeling before a stone bier upon which rests a shriveled corpse. A thin silver arrow pierces its chest.
Waldemar realizes he has to go through this lady, so he attacks! A fierce battle ensues until Waldemar gets the idea to use the silver arrow. Now, friends, if you've ever watched a Naschy film, you should know that pulling anything silver out of any part of the body of a corpse is a recipe for disaster. Luckily for Waldemar, this movie is different! He runs the chick through with the arrow, and another shows up! He tries to flee, but ends up impaling her as well, but not before she bites him on one of his rock-like pecs! Freed, Waldemar finally finds an exit and runs off into the snow.
If this yeti killing job doesn't work out, there's always the circus...
The full moon is out, and Waldemar clutches his chest as he runs. Soon, the pain is too great... he begins to transform! A time-lapsed shot later and we have the hairy wolfman version of Paul Naschy. Reeking of wolf-stink and man-sex, he sets off in search of prey. He doesn't have to go far. Three bandits have made a camp near some boulders. Using one of the boulders as a launching spot, Waldemar executes one of the most stunning leap attacks in the long, awesome history of leap attacks! Very quickly the bandits are reduced to bloody messes.
Ladies and gentlemen: The Leap Attack
We flash over to the rescue party, who seem to have made their camp in the middle of some snowless woods. The ever-changing environment in this movie brought me no end of mirth. One moment it's a blizzard, the next sunny and green. The rescue party is growing increasingly nervous, as they begin to hear howls in the distance. Sylvia thinks this would be the perfect time to go for an evening stroll. One of the other researchers tries to force himself on her, but Waldemar jumps out and rips out the dude's throat!
The campers go to investigate, and while they are away Tiger gets knifed by his own men, who are "crazy with fear" he says, dying. The researchers break camp the next day, only to be ambushed by a large party of bandits. It turns out they all answer to Sekkar Khan, a local warlord who lives high in the mountains inside a fortress. The surviving members of the rescue party are carted off to meet him.
Meanwhile, Waldemar wakes up covered in leaves wondering what the fuck he's been up to for the last 8 hours. The girl Sylvia is passed out next to him. He gathers her up and they set off looking for the rest of the party. They find one of the members that the bandits left behind, impaled on a pike. With his dying breath he lets them know that the others have been taken to Sekkar Khan's Fortress of Solitude. We cut to said fortress and see Sekkar Khan undergoing treatment for sores on his back. I'm going to assume syphilis. His head wench informs him that a doctor is among the rescue party, so hope for new treatment abounds.
Meanwhile, Waldemar and Sylvia happen upon a monastery out in the middle of nowhere. It is inhabited by an old monk-like guy and his mute friend. The old man knows Waldemar's "condition" and helps him by chaining him to a tree. This doesn't hold Waldemar, however, when the moon is bright and the wolfbane blooms. Tearing the tree apart, wolfy Naschy sets off, happening upon a bandit on horseback. Executing yet another awesome leap attack, he lands squarely on the horse, right behind the rider!
Back at the monastery, the monk informs Sylvia that she should use a rare red bloom from a flower that only grows high in the mountains if she wants to save Waldemar. Or, stab him with this handy silver dagger I just happen to have! The monk gives her the knife and wishes her well. Waldemar comes back from his beastly foray to find the monk and his mute friend dead, and Sylvia hostage. Waldemar, in his weakened state, is taken hostage as well.
"I'm... too sexy for these chains."
They are both taken back to Sekkar Khan's fortress. Waldemar is chained up in a cell, while some captive women are disrobed and beaten. Soon it becomes clear that this new medicinal remedy for Sekkar Khan's back involves the harvesting of skin off the girls to be grafted onto his back. It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again! Was she a great big fat person? At any rate, Sekkar Khan skins his humps.
Waldemar watches this happen with barely contained rage, and utters a fabulous line that I must quote: "The full moon has always filled me with fear, but now I wish it would come, so that I could destroy you!!" Meanwhile, Sylvia is put in with the other women, one of which discovers her secret silver dagger. They use this to kill the guard and escape. They find the head witch, who they also kill, but not before she utters another immortal line: "I'll have you killed, you bitches!"
Waldemar hooks back up with Sylvia, and they start to make their escape. However, Sekkar Khan has other plans! This kicks off one of the most well choreographed fights in Naschy film history! Waldemar executes several leap attacks, as well as a flying kick, all into the skull of Sekkar Khan, who finally falls into a spiked pit, which upon their inspection, also contains the corpse of the professor! The finally flee the castle, whereupon Waldemar informs Sylvia that they must go their separate ways, as it's becoming dark, and he's about to turn.
Ladies and gentlemen: The Flying Kick
And turn he does! Sylvia doesn't make it very far before Waldemar is in full wolf-out mode. Suddenly, a yeti attacks Sylvia! Her screams draw Waldemar like a siren song, and soon another epic battle is taking place. The yeti, however, is no match for Waldemar, and soon has its throat bitten out. Unlucky for Waldemar, however, the yeti gets in a final swipe, which proves to be devastating. At the last moment, Sylvia spots the fabled red bloom flower, which she takes a petal from, and, mixing it with her own blood, heals Waldemar for good! Together they walk off, hand-in-hand, into the snowy sunrise.
Friends, this movie is fan-fucking-tastic. It has everything we know and love about Paul Naschy films, and it cranks it all up to 11 and beyond. Love leap attacks? This movie is full of them! Love Paul's pecs? Pull up a chair! I can scarcely believe the amount of win this movie contains. Yeti scalps, Tibetan folk music, cannibalistic cave-dwelling bitches, I could go on and on. Suffice it to say that if you are a fan of this site at all, you should hunt down a copy of this movie post haste. Three Huge Thumbs Up.
"For great justice!!!"
Monday, June 1, 2009
Night of the Howling Beast (1975), Or Leap Attack Fest 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Vicar-ious Verse: El Soneto del Hombre Lobo
I've been poetically inspired lately, and today I present a poem I scribbled recently for your favorite Spanish werewolf and mine, the inimitable beefiness that is Paul Naschy. Enjoy!
La Noche del Hombre Lobo
--para Jacinto, con muchas gracias
They had him in his grave, or so they thought--
but now he stalks the moors and knows no rest.
The Gypsies, damn them--dirty, thieving lot!
have pulled the Silver Cross out of his chest.
Daninksy Castle's windows are ablaze
with torchlight; then at night, those horrid screams
that turn to howls. The moon's cold, deadly rays
bring down a curse that only Death redeems,
and that at True Love's hand--so says the lore.
The ancient legends teach no other way.
Look there, where on black velvet Luna hangs!
Tonight the Polish hills run red with gore,
and virgins are not safe from his dread fangs.
He's not that pure at heart. He does not pray.
You can read more of the Vicar's horror sonnets here.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Beast and the Magic Sword (1983): or, Samurai Werewolf
One of the wonderful things about becoming a Paul Naschy fan in this day and age is that, once you've realized the bottomless store of cinematic joy Jacinto has on tap, there's just SO much more out there for you to leap into head-first. Naschy was almost as prolific as he was manly, with damn near 100 acting credits and 39 for screenwriting on imdb alone. In the early days of my evangelism this would have been frustrating, since most of those movies are still either out-of-print or were never issued stateside. But now, thanks to the wonders of Technology, there are channels through which the devoted fan can pour his creamy love over even the most obscure entries in the Molina Oeuvre. And that, brothers and sisters, is a Very Good Thing.
Naschy's 1983 effort The Beast and the Magic Sword (La Bestia y la espada mágica) is one of those that saw release in the US, had a short VHS run, and then disappeared into the Iberian Hinterlands and the libraries of collectors. And it's a shame, too; in scope, acting, production values, and sheer horror/fantasy joy, it's one of the most impressive and entertaining Naschy flicks I've ever clapped my eyeballs on. And as all my readers should know by now, that's not a piece of praise I throw around lightly.
A simple three-word phrase should help explain: WEREWOLF VERSUS NINJAS. Let's dive in, shall we?
Note: Please don't let the sub-par quality of the screengrabs scare you. This movie is totally worth it.
"Y'all ready for this?"
At an hour and fifty minutes, The Beast and the Magic Sword is one of the longer films Naschy produced, and it's wonderful to see him explore the space. We open in war-torn pre-medieval Europe, where the Emperor Otton is having trouble keeping his enemies in check--particularly those pesky Hungarians, who legend has it drink the blood of their vanquished foes and steal their souls. Otton's men have captured the Voivode of the Hungarian army, a massive barbarian named Bulcho who looks almost exactly like Sekkar Khan from Night of the Howling Beast, only without the eczema.
However, even chained in Otton's dungeons Bulcho is dangerous--his mistress Amese is a powerful witch and is still at large, and Otton is hesitant to execute the Voivode for fear of incurring her eternal curse. Bulcho must die fighting--and none of the Emperor's men are brave enough to risk both Bulcho's blade and Amese's magical wrath. To solve this problem, Otton calls in loyal Polish warlord Irenius Daninsky (Naschy, of course, looking AWESOME with his full beard, long hair, and golden circlet) to administer the Trial by Battle. If he wins, Irenius will receive the hand of Otton's daughter Uswika in marrige. Unlike her namesake in Dr. Jekyll meets the Werewolf, this Uswika is a cutie too--therefore, Daninsky agrees.
What is best in life? THIS, pretty much.
We now fast-forward to Sixteenth-Century Toledo, where nobleman Waldemar Daninsky has drawn the seventh genetic short straw and is desperately seeking a cure for his werewolfism. He and his lady Kinga seek out scholar, alchemist, and persecuted Jew Salom, who along with his blind daughter Ester promises to cure Daninsky if he can. (The two are both members of an international secret fraternity whose members all wear the group's symbol on a necklace--one strikingly similar to the one Col. Sanders wore in Night of the Werewolf.)
But before Salom can complete his research, the local Catholics decide he's a warlock and slave of Satan and must be burned at the stake. (The unearthly howls they hear coming from his workshop on full-moon nights don't help.) Though Naschy fights off several of the anti-semitic authorities in another excellent fight scene (he kills them all in his nightshirt, because THAT'S how awesome he is), Salom is mortally wounded in the scuffle. With his dying breath, the learned Jew tells Waldemar to go to Japan and seek out wise man and fraternity brother Kian, who may be the only person who can free him from his family curse. Homeless and marked for death, Ester joins them on their quest.
Hair and the Dog that Bit You
I should say here that despite the apalling video quality of the copy of this film I managed to secure, the top-drawer production values shine through at every turn. The sets in Europe and Japan are marvelous, and the costuming is great in every culture and time-period. Also, Julio Burgos' cinematography under Naschy's direction is very nice, with lots of cool compositions and moody lighting to make our monster feel at home in the Far East.
For instance, on the next night of the full moon we find ourselves in the werewolf's point of view, stalking through the eerily shadowed streets between traditional Japanese buildings for an almost Gothic feel. At the end of an alley we happen upon a brothel, where the silhouettes of jovial men and women move starkly outlined on the rice-paper windows, ignorant of the Hairy Death that stalks them in the dark.
Loves Japanese Food
As the werewolf leaves the scene of destruction, he finds himself face-to-face with Kian, who has been following his tell-tale tracks. The stand-off between the two here is really a great piece of work, as Kian looks fearlessly into the eyes of the beast, which snarls back at him but does not attack, as if sensing the courage and determination of his adversary. Finally the werewolf bounds away, leaving Kian to clean up the bloody brothel-mess.
It doesn't take Kian long to find Waldemar, Kinga, and Ester in the cabin where they're hiding, and the guilt stricken Waldemar quickly shows Kian his medallion and secures his promise to help find the cure. Meanwhile Kinga has heard tell of a witch who lives in the mountains who might be able to help should Kian's alchemy fail. Meanwhile the aforementioned one-eyed samurai has sent ninja spies to keep tabs on Kian's investigation--in case you thought it couldn't get any awesomer.
"HELL YES."
At this point the movie has really become more Kian's story than Waldemar's, but this is not at all a bad thing. Shigeru Amachi is really wonderful as the rational-minded scholar and samurai, projecting a calmness and authority that is just perfect for the role. His acting is spectacular throughout, whether he's tracking the moon-beast or having a post-bathtime katana duel with his one-eyed rival--another great fight scene, and one that cements Amachi as a charismatic badass worthy of the appellation "The Naschy of Japan."
Do NOT fuck with this man.
I could gush on and on and on about this movie, but then we'd be here all night--so instead I'll enumerate a few of the remaining awesomenesses in bullet-point form:
Easier said than done.
I can only hope and pray that the fine folks at BCI/Eclipse/Deimos DVD who put out those fabulous editions of several of Naschy's other great flicks last year will do the same for The Beast and the Magic Sword, because God knows it deserves it. The movie was so fantastic even in the sub-sub-par video-quality version that I watched, I can only imagine the intensity of the geekgasm that a pristine, cleaned-up print would cause. As it is, The Beast and the Magic Sword has climbed the ranks into perhaps my top 3 favorite Naschy films, and needs to be seen by his legions of new fans.
OFF THE THUMB SCALE. If you get a chance to see this one, grab it like the last potsticker. And thank me later.
When Naschy wants head, baby, he GETS IT.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Dr. Jekyll vs. the Werewolf (1972): or, You Can't Run, But You Can Hyde
Oh, Paul Naschy--have I told you lately that I love you?
That fateful day a couple of years ago, when I went down to my local dollar store and discovered the untold riches of Vengeance of the Zombies and Paul Naschy, is now justly famous in MMMMMovies lore. There's a reason that film was the first praised and enshrined on this site--for without it, this outpost of the Vicarage and the Duchy would almost certainly not exist.
What's lesser known is that in that same batch of movies was a werewolf double-feature bearing a copy of the 1972 Paul Naschy monster-mash Dr. Jekyll and the Wolf Man, directed by Paul's frequent collaborator, the recently lauded León Klimovsky. The sixth movie in Naschy's famous Waldemar Daninsky Werewolf Saga, DJvWM is sandwiched between the wild and woolly craziness of Fury of the Wolfman and the elegant artistic excellence of Curse of the Devil--and though it shares more in tone and content with the former than the latter, it's still got the childlike enthusiasm, go-for-broke kitchen-sink attitude, and flashes of almost-brilliance that make even a lesser Naschy flick an uncontrollable joy-storm--at least for someone like me.
We open in an opulent mansion somewhere in London, where late-middle-aged businessman Imre Kosta (José Marco) is hosting a dinner party and waxing nostalgic about his home town back in Transylvania. Having recently wedded trophy wife Justine--the ridiculously hot Shirley Corrigan, who would later appear in the more-than-decent Devil's Nightmare--he's decided to take her back to the old village on their honeymoon. Though his guests scoff at the idea and make fun of the old legends of vampires and werewolves, a blast of wind flings open a window and knocks over the bust of a satyr, obviously expressing supernatural disapproval at Imre's guests' lack of manners.
Next thing you know Imre and Justine are cruising the sheep-runs of outer Transylvania in their Rolls Royce, which you just know is going to draw the wrong kind of attention. It's the dead of winter, and once the snow starts dropping, the Rolls starts stopping. While Imre fiddles with the engine, Justine (working the pink-top/black-skirt ensemble under an AMAZING fur-edged coat) goes off to explore a nearby hovel, wherein she is horrified by the sudden appearance of a disfigured hobo! She flees back into Imre's arms, and soon they're off again, the hobo waving them a fond farewell.
What's pink, black, and awesome?
At the cemetery Imre finds the family crypt (marked FEDALMATUNK, for some reason--maybe they sold ad space). The old cemetery is AWESOME, btw, with decrepit tombstones, wiry scrub growing on the graves, and skulls absolutely LITTERING the ground near the cemetery wall! Fire your caretakers, guys! I have to stop here and say that Justine arrives wearing another amazing outfit*, super-short skirt and over-the-knee high-heeled boots striking just the right somber note. (I can just imagine the conversation in their inn suite: "Yes, this is what I'm wearing. I want to pay my respects in the SEXIEST WAY POSSIBLE." God, I love Europe.)
*In point of fact, Justine's outfits are great throughout--Costuminatrix, you need to see this one! ;)
Yes, as any Naschyphile could have predicted, the ruffians from the inn have followed the honeymooners out to the cemetery and proceed to loot the Rolls. Imre runs to protect his property, ignoring Justine's frantic but eminently reasonable advice NOT to, and gets stuck like a pig for his trouble, expiring as his wife screams. The robbers close in around Justine with more than money on their mind, and it seems like she's doomed to a fate of death by sheepherder rape when--look, out on the plain! Is it a wolf? Is it an ox? NO, IT'S NASCHY TO THE RESCUE!
"Get ready for The Hurting, boys."Having seen quite enough, the remaining highwayman, Otvos, turns around and hightails it back to Baliavasta, counting himself lucky that his internal organs are still internal. His work done, Naschy picks up the long-since-fainted Justine and totes her back to The Black Castle, which is of course Chez Daninsky.
Sometime later Justine awakens in a sumptuous bedroom, a candelabra flickering on the bedside table, just begging to be taken wandering through the darkened house. Wander she does, dressed now in a flowing black nightie that one can only assume Paul picked out and dressed her in. Seeing Imre's body laid out on the table in the dining hall and Paul pacing around it, Justine freaks and runs. Paul chases her into the crypt, where Justine is startled by her old friend the disfigured hobo, who I just knew was going to pop up again. Somehow they get Justine back to her room (a kindly old woman--Uswika Bathory, no relation--is there for the assist), and Paul and the hobo bury Imre in his native soil.
Meanwhile, back at the inn, Otvos is mustering a new gang in hopes of getting revenge on Paul for having killed his brother and for making him ruin a brand new set of underclothes. Gyogyo offers more helpful history, claiming that the witch Uswika "breastfed the monster who lives in the castle!" meaning Paul. They plan their vengeance, not being nearly as worried as they should that the night appointed for their attack just happens to be the first night of the full moon--a lack of foresight they'll soon come to regret.
After a dose of that famous sampled wolf howl and an extreme close-up of a stuffed owl outta nowhere, we join the highwaymen in the cemetery. Soon they're also joined by a slavering werewolf with huge pectoral muscles! Wouldn't you just know it? The shotguns, they do NOTHING, and the wolf man quickly makes mincemeat out of the gang, even stopping long enough to pull a strip of human jerky from one of their necks. Otvo is the sole survivor/escapee again, and as he leaves Paul breaks his shotgun in HALF and throws it down to show his contempt for conventional weaponry. Awesome.
"WALPURGIS NACHT, BITCHEZ!"Now that we've got THAT out of the way, Otvos is still thirsting for revenge, this time escalating hostilities by assembling a full-on torch-bearing mob to go after the werewolf. He whets the crowd's appetite for bloodlust by amazingly pulling Uswika's disembodied head out of a sack! ("I surprised her on the way over here!" he explains--I'll just bet!) Silver bullets are made and the villagers attack, though luckily for Waldemar they can't hit the broad side of a massive pec. Paul finally throttles Otvos--again in human form, he needs no claws to take out this garbage--pushes the murdered body of the disfigured hobo out of the front seat of the Rolls, and he and Justine take off into the distance, the mob satisfied just to let them leave.
You may have noticed that's an awful lot of plot without a single mention of the esteemed Dr. J, and it's not for nothing--at this point we're more than 35 minutes in to a 76 minute movie (my version is sadly cut) and so far it's been all werewolf, no scientist. But that's about to change as the newly widowed Justine takes the newly orphaned and homeless Waldemar back to London and gets proactive about his whole "lunar-triggered murderous man-beast" problem by calling in a solid from one of her friends.
Otvos gives the best head in the Carpathians(After Justine leaves, Mirta Miller as Dr. J's sexy assistant Sandra makes her appearance, and we learn that while she's in love with the good doctor, Doc is carrying a torch for Justine--the fact that she's moved from his friend Imre to this muscle-bound lycanthrope without making a stop at Jekyllville seems not to sit well...)
Brimming with SexyBack at Imre's mansion--Justine's pad, now--Dr. Jekyll, Justine, and Waldemar go over the plan again. This scene is notable for showing one of the hazards of living in an unrenovated castle in winter, as during the conversation each actor's breath is CLEARLY visible. Brrrr! Having moved their operations to the spacious attic in Justine's house (really, this thing is so huge as to be almost German-Expressionistic), they strap Waldemar to a table, watch him change into the werewolf, and draw some blood while he rages against the leather straps. (Why he can't break them as easily as the tons of chains he's busted in his time I don't know; maybe Dr. J sedated him pre-wolf-out.)
Armed with a vial of all-powerful Daninsky Juice, Dr. J starts to get the kind of ideas one naturally gets when immersed in mad science and Naschy-musk. Somehow deducing that Daninsky holds "The key to control of the mind!" he plans to make Waldemar his guinea pig, and thus somehow gain Justine's love too. When Nurse Sandra comes on strong Dr. J gives her a backhand, which is SUCH the wrong thing to do. "Remember, Henry," she spits, glaring at him in a frighteningly evil and arousing way, "The very deepest love is easily changed into the very deepest HATE!" Too true, baby. Too true.
After Justine inflames Sandra's jealousy more by giving Henry a peck on the cheek amongst the bubbling beakers, the time finally comes to give Naschy the juice. A few patented convulsions and hey presto! Naschy notches another Classic Monster portrayal by becoming Mr. Hyde!
"Don't run. Don't even fucking try."With that done, where does a vicious embodiment of the Id go? To a swingin' go-go club, of course! We get some great dancing in short short skirts and shiny shiny boots, and Hyde (in full anachronistic cape-and-cane regalia) charms a go-go girl back to his table for drinks. Before he can seal the deal, though, Hyde is affected adversely by the club's strobe-light and changes back to Waldemar! (That Jekyll formula is some strong stuff, apparently, as not only does Hyde change, but his wardrobe changes as well!) His lady companion barely has time to say, "Hey, wtf?" before the full moon changes Waldy into the werewolf! Clearing the joint with his growly awesomeness (and once again having changed shirts), the wolf man prowls back to the attic lab, his curse forcing him to hunt down the one woman he loves.
Back in the expressionistic attic (which has bales of HAY in it, for some reason--did Imre live in a barn?), Justine takes a gun loaded with silver that Dr. J had put aside "just in case," and the werewolf creeps toward her under the rafters. She tries to shoot, but with a swipe of his mighty paw Waldemar severs her jugular and sends her sprawling to the hay. Still, with her last bit of strength she gets off another shot, fatally wounding the werewolf, who falls beside her and changes back to her true love's form. They die holding hands, and the circle of tragic love is complete.
Classic Monsters, Classic ShotNaschy is great as always, particularly as the evil Hyde, where he really lets his joy shine through. (The werewolf makeup here is not up to the usual standard, it has to be said, though a few shots in the transformation scenes where Naschy has obviously let his beard grow out for effect is the kind of low-tech ingenuity I fucking LOVE.) Mirta Miller is wonderful as the evil sexy Sandra, and Jack Taylor makes a passable Dr. Jekyll. Shirley Corrigan as Justine is SMOKIN' HAWT, and I hope that in the uncut version of this we get to see more of her talents.
Direction-wise, Klimovsky doesn't indulge in the flashes of visual brilliance I'm used to from him--no slo-mo, few really vibrant scenes (the attic set of the finale is the big standout), and again, the pan-and-scan, cut-up version of the film I watched doubtless obscured or obliterated some of his compositions and more than one story point. (In one scene, Justine shows up with unexplained scratches all over her face and chest--I'm DYING to know!) Suffice to say I'd be very interested to see a restored, uncut version. Are you listening, dvd companies? GET ON IT!
This is one of those Naschy movies that a non-Naschyphile will likely dismiss as incoherent, sloppy, and an out-and-out mess, but for me it was still a hell of a lot of fun, and the only Daninsky flick I've seen where he gets to be TWO monsters instead of one. If you liked Fury of the Wolfman (and I did, a lot), Dr. Jekyll and the Wolf Man almost matches it for sheer craziness and fun. 2.5 thumbs--give it a shot.
And never turn your back on a Spanish nurse. Just not a good idea.
OBEY!Thursday, August 14, 2008
Night of the Werewolf (1981): or, The Werewolf versus EVEN MORE Vampire Women!
By now I could probably just provide you with a list of "Daninsky Components" present in any of Paul Naschy's werewolf movies and you could come up with a pretty good approximation of the plot. Motif-wise, there's almost nothing here that we haven't seen before: Witch's Curse, Vampire Women, Resurrected Daninsky, Graverobbers, Highwaymen, Countryside Rampage, the Loved One who Must Kill the Werewolf, and of course that famous silver crucifix/dagger. With the exception of a few "everything and the kitchen sink too!" efforts (Fury of the Wolfman, Frankenstein's Bloody Terror), Jacinto doesn't really seem that interested in re-inventing the wheel every time he takes up his favorite character's continuing, incongruent adventures. He's got all the pieces he needs--no need to go out and buy or create a new set. Just use the Legos you've got.
But that's the thing about a good set of Legos: put them together right, and you can make almost ANYTHING. And like that Mad Lego Brickmaster, Molina proves again and again that he can take those pre-defined, pre-fabricated building blocks he's created in previous chapters of the Waldemar Daninsky saga and put them together in an infinite variety of exciting, surprising, crowd-pleasing ways. And 1980's Night of the Werewolf (aka El Retorno del Hombre Lobo), the first Daninsky movie that Jacinto directed in addition to scripting, is certainly no exception to that golden rule.
The film begins (no surprise here) with a 1400s version of Waldemar Daninsky in chains, crucified before a panel of religious judges. But Daninsky is not the main attraction here--no, the star of medieval Court TV is Elizabeth Bathory, the Blood Countess, infamous for her reputed pact with the Devil and her factual murder of many peasant virgins to bathe in their blood and remain forever young. Here she is depicted as both a witch and an arrogant aristocrat, as she curses her executioners from her place on the stand--like you do. Even when her faithful, musclebound, bald-headed manservant is beheaded, she shows not an inkling of remorse or fear.
"I'm out of order? YOU'RE out of order!"
From there we jump to--where else?--a Euro-pool party, circa 1980! Yes, the kids are really swingin' poolside, as a trio of bikini-clad babes discuss their upcoming "research" trip with some 80s-style hunks. After the conversation with the boys takes a startlingly abrupt turn toward the ugly (the "c" bomb is deployed with extreme prejudice), we find the more witchy-looking of the girls in a gothic manor house conversing with what can only be described as the Spanish love-child of Mark Twain and Colonel Sanders. Pay attention, this is important.
"My Special Spices? Well, I suppose I could show you..."
Meanwhile, a couple of the slimier graverobbers it's ever been my pleasure to see are treading steadfastly toward the very tomb our Satanic hottie is hoping to discover. One is skinny with a speech impediment, the other fat and generating enough body oils to lubricate the NY Times' entire battery of printing presses. The oily one is very dapper, with an ornate cane (silver topped!) and cape. They quickly uncover the corpse of Waldemar, and like so many thieves before them, simply cannot resist the shiny pretty dagger sticking out of his chest! Quicker than you can say "Oof my larynx!" the graverobbers lie dead in the very grave they tried to rob, the crypt now tragically empty...
"Did I ever mention how well lantern light becomes you?"
Cut to--where else?--a Bavarian inn! Where apparently fashion stopped around the same time they made that famous purity law, as everyone is dressed in period costumes except our trio of beloved Belial-Lovin' babes. Some highwaymen are making carouse at the same bar, and overhear the girls' plans to head to "the castle." Of course the villains follow to pillage and rape, not necessarily in that order. But in the midst of their attack they are thwarted by a few well-placed crossbow bolts from the weapon of a mysterious stranger! Before the girls can thank their deliverer he disappears, never having shown his face.
Their suspense doesn't last long, though, as in the ruins of the castle they find the bodies of the graverobbers and are greeted by a disfigured wench (?) who frightens one of the girls into the waiting arms of crossbow-totin' Paul. (Paul's first appearance here, framed in the window of the ruined castle, wearing a medieval hunting outfit and holding his crossbow at the ready, is truly an image for the ages.) Gentlemanly to a fault, Paul quickly invites the girls back to the manor house for dinner and a warm bed, and the disfigured servant girl's history is explained (Paul saved her from burning at the stake, somehow--the chronology here is murky).
FUCK YES.
Their shotgun--it does nothing! After taking a point-blank blast to the chest and shrugging it off like a luxurious silken bathrobe, the werewolf takes the gun away and shows his disdain for conventional weaponry by BREAKING IT IN HALF! I don't care how tough a gypsy you are, that's gotta be a pants-filling development. A moment later Daninsky proves that cigarettes kill--or if they don't, lycanthropes are fully able to take up the slack.
"Oh Lord--why have I been cursed with such huge pectoral muscles?"
Some nice set pieces follow--Paul and Karen gettin' it awn, showing off Paul's famous pentagonal scar on those Olympian pecs; Bathory getting a blood shower courtesy a peasant wench (zang); two robbers picking the wrong house to try their "Ooh, I'm a priest!" scam and getting drained for their trouble; and in my favorite scene in the movie, Paul and the Twain-killing devil-vamp going head to head in a seduction showdown, which ends with them making out on a silk-draped bed, with a full length mirror opposite showing that the ass Paul is grabbing is not really there! It's so goddamn beautiful, words fail me.
He sees it; he just doesn't care.
But Bathory didn't get to be a famously eeevil bitch of Satan for nothing, and before Paul can get to her, the Blood Countess shocks him by turning Karen into a vampire! His one hope for release now tragically gone over to the other team (ooer), Paul stands all alone against the ever-growing army of the hawt undead!
The final battle between Bathory and Daninsky more than lives up to the hype, as the Blood Countess proves she's no slouch in a real slobberknocker! Paul smashes flying coffins and executes a textbook LEAP ATTACK to bring her reign of terror to an drooly, chewy end.
Freed from the curse of the vampire, Karen still has a rampaging, slightly randy werewolf to deal with, as the blood-frenzied Daninsky turns on her with tragic results. Unfortunately--or perhaps blessedly--Karen had been clutching the Silver Cross for protection and slides it between Paul's ribs in their last embrace, putting a tragic and AWESOME end to their star-crossed love story. Killed by and killing the woman he loved, Paul finds depiliated peace.
"I could write a sonnet, about your Vampire Bonnet..."
As for the Man himself, Paul has really never looked better. ROCKIN' the rugged manly beard and the black silk shirt open to the navel, Paul sends out such waves of man-musk, even over the years and through your DVD player, that mere mortals are powerless to resist. The werewolf makeup is refined to a terrific iconic perfection, and a lengthy transformation scene in which Naschy pretty much wrecks the whole castle in his throes of agony--well, you just have to stand up and cheer! And Naschy-as-director proves that his vision is no less powerful than his pheromones--he uses the absolutely wonderful gothic sets to stage some truly striking compositions, and the imagery in this film is some of the most beautiful I've seen outside of Curse of the Devil, even surpassing that mmmmmasterpiece in some ways. Just gorgeous.
You're WELCOME.
And while Patty Shepard as Countess Wandessa in WWvVW is still a sentimental favorite, it has to be said that Julia Saly has it going ON as Elizabeth Bathory, with amazing diaphanous black gowns, a never-to-be-equaled headdress, and perpetually bloodshot eyes that are more than a little unsettling, not to mention HAWT. She's one eeeevil lady, yo, and a more than worthy adversary to the Mighty Mighty Molina.
Night of the Werewolf is a fantastic Naschy flick, using all the great components from the mythology in inventive ways, and utilizing the bigger budget to the fullest. The only thing missing, sadly, was the werewolf jerky, though we do get more than a quota of drool. 3+ thumbs easily, and a must-see for any Jacintophile.
The Winner, and Still Champion
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