Nick Cato's Blog, page 32

The Return of Coffin Joe...

In 2007, Dario Argento finally completed his "Three Mothers" trilogy with MOTHER OF TEARS, a film his fans waited over 25 years for.  In like manner, Jose Mojica Marins has completed another beloved trilogy, his "Coffin Joe" series, which began with 1964's AT MIDNIGHT I'LL TAKE YOUR SOUL and continued with THIS NIGHT I'LL POSSESS YOUR CORPSE (1967).  41 years since Coffin Joe last spooked audiences with his demented undertaker, he's finally back with EMBODIMENT OF EVIL (released in South America in 2008, then played the festival circuit for a few years until this past week when Synapse Films released a dual blu-ray/DVD edition for American audiences).

In a nutshell, the first two films in the series are dark, moody, creepy horror outings centered around an evil undertaker who's bent on continuing his bloodline.  He tortures and rapes women looking for the perfect one to bear his child.  Both 60s classics featured (for their time) graphic violence and sacreligious imagery and overtones that caused Marins to be a true outsider in his Catholic-heavy native homeland (Brazil).
Like an AC/DC album or a James Bond film, EMBODIMENT OF EVIL is the same thing you've seen before; the plot's the same as the first 2 films, although the special effects are kicked up a few notches.  Coffin Joe is released from prison 40 years after being arrested for the crimes he committed in the first 2 films (and many are surprised to discover he hadn't died in jail).  His assistant Bruno (now as old [or older] than Coffin Joe) meets him outside the prison and takes him back to a new secret lair where a group of 4 young followers agree to do Joe's bidding (after proving themselves, of course).  What follows is basically an updated version of the first 2 films, only with more torture, more weird characters, more nudity and another trip into hell (literally).
Pros: If you're a fan of Coffin Joe, you'll love watching him walk around modern-day Brazil in his classic cape and top hat (one scene has him kicking ass at a bar, letting everyone know THE MAN is back in town).  Some of the violence is truly gut-wrenching (I don't think I'll be able to eat hot cheese or look at a rat anytime soon) and one sequence, where Joe makes some poor woman eat her own amputated ass cheek, is so over the top you won't know whether to laugh or gag.  The acting is superior to the original films, even on Coffin Joe's part (and dare I say Joe's gratuitous eye-close ups and women-whippings were inspired by HG Lewis' BLOOD FEAST?).  There's also a blood-raining sex scene between Joe and a potential son-bearer that makes ANGEL HEART's similar sequence look like an episode of Sesame Street.  Two blind witches and a revenge-bent priest are among the kooky side characters, my favorite being an ancient mystic (played by José Celso Martinez Corrêa) who takes Joe on a guided tour of the underworld.  The ending also leaves room for 7 sequels (!!!).
Cons: The plot.  Again, it's identical to the first two films, so if you're looking for something different than them, you're not going to find it here.  The early scenes of Joe walking around Brazil look a bit comical, but whether that was intentional or not on the part of Marins is anyone's guess.  And as with any foreign film, the subtitles here (at times) probably could've been translated better, causing some of the dialogue (especially between the police) to come off too comical.
EMBODIMENT OF EVIL is a nice end-cap to a series I only became a fan of a few years ago (thanks to late-night showings on the IFC channel).  It features a classic-looking horror figure set against a modern background; you can almost sense Marins had been watching HOSTEL and other recent torture-films, and said to himself, "Let me show zee kiddies how eets done!"
And man, does he ever...
Coffin Joe in his upgraded underground lair
Coffin Joe is taken back to his new crib by faithful hunchbacked servant, Bruno (Rui Resende)
Joe is given a guided tour of the underworld by a gleeful Mystic
Hell-bent on killing Coffin Joe for killling his father, Father Eugenio (Milhem Cortaz) is one slightly off-balanced priest!  (His chest tattoo features Coffin Joe's hand with the word HERETIC written around it).  The showdown between the two at an amusement park is quite good.
Unless your name is COFFIN JOE, it's not wise to mess with a blind, Santeria-practicing witch!
Some classic-looking horror scenery, a staple of all of Marin's films
Give 'em instruments and Coffin Joe's new cult would make a great goth band!

Can a CHILD play KILL AND GO HIDE with a ZOMBIE CHILD?

BOTTOM SHELF AT THE VIDEO STORE, my latest film column, debuts this month over at THE BLACK GLOVE: http://the-black-glove.blogspot.com/2011/03/bottom-shelf-at-video-store1.html
After you enjoy my fine piece, read the entire March issue right here: http://the-black-glove.blogspot.com/

Butcher Knives & Body Counts gets release date...

(click image for larger view)
Dark Scribe Press' long-awaited horror film book, BUTCHER KNIVES & BODY COUNTS: ESSAYS ON THE FORMULA, FRIGHTS, & FUN OF THE SLASHER FILM will be released on August 1, 2011. I'll be among the 70+ contributors to this 500+-paged volume with my piece on the 1981 film, NIGHTMARE (a slasher film I've been raving about since I first saw it in a 1982 double feature with MOTHER'S DAY). Above is the wrap-around cover image, and it's a real beauty!
You've waited this long, so a few more months should be a piece of cake...

Inept Filmmaking at its Finest...

There's nothing I like more than discovering a genuine, 70s-era grindhouse film I had no idea existed. And thanks to the lunatics over at Something Weird Video, I was just introduced to a real oddity from 1977 titled ANOTHER SON OF SAM (it's available at http://www.somethingweird.com/ on DVD-R and as a download).
If you're one of those film-goers who HATES really, really, really bad cinema, you might as well skip this review (not to mention seeing the film itself). But if you enjoy inept filmmaking, horrendous 70s fashions, plot-holes galore, and a genuine grindhouse experience, pay attention:
For the first 5-6 minutes of this 74-minute epic, we see a cop walking around a dock with his girlfriend and then water skiing. I still have no idea why, but that's the least of this films puzzles. Next, we're treated to some local North Carolina lounge singer named Johnny Charro, who sings as our cop relaxes with his girl after a long day's water skiing. Again, I have no idea why.
Ah--around 15 minutes into this the film begins: A psycho named Harvey (and nope--the name has nothing to do with the dog that allegedly told the real Son of Sam to kill) is injected with sedatives at a mental institution. But apparently they shot him up with steroids. Harvey kills two orderlies and a nurse, then escapes to a local park where he kills two cops as a dozen others run in circles looking for him.
Before long, Harvey finds his way to a State college where he hides in a girls' dorm room, eventually taking two of them hostage, despite the fact the cops evacuated everyone from the building (the two girls miraculously show up in their room after they had left the campus and the place had been quarantined--one of many questions not worth asking or worrying about).
Despite the fact a SWAT team is called in, the local cops are still running all over the dorm trying to locate the elusive killer, who is shown in BLOOD FEAST-style eyeball close-ups (and on occassion we see his moccasins tip-toeing down hallways).
We eventually learn Harvey had been sexually abused by his mother as a child, so the cops call her in to try and talk her son out of the hostage situation. It works, giving our cops and SWAT-sters time to blow a couple dozen holes in him.
ANOTHER SON OF SAM is crudely edited, poorly lit, features fashions that will make even 70s fans glad the decade is long gone, music that sounds like left-overs from an HG Lewis film, and best of all, poster art that's better than the film itself.
As a show of total classlessness, this film was released in 1977, before there was any other fictional film about the Son of Sam, and (I'm assuming) while Berkowitz was still at large. Shot with the working title HOSTAGES, the producer went above and beyond to re-title his film in a way that might possibly draw a crowd and make him some moolah (I'm not sure if it did either). Speaking of said producer, North Carolina local David Adams also wrote and directed and cast and edited this seldom-seen gem of pure trash---PLUS he was a stunt coordinator (being a former stunt man himself).
If you like your films trashy, pointless, and full of unintentional laughs, ANOTHER SON OF SAM is pure gold. All others, turn and run away as fast as you can.
Johnny Charro croons Tom Jones-style
Harvey stealing his eye-stalk from BLOOD FEAST's Fuad Ramses!
In the hi-tech police office...
A cute future-hostage coed and her polyester boyfriend
If this slow-moving SWAT team had been in DAWN OF THE DEAD, they'd a-been chow in less than 2 seconds!
The Police Captain's son-in-law bites a bullet from Harvey---the DRAMA!
SPOILER ALERT!!! Harvey gets shot at the end!
A local cop faces Harvey's wrath (this image from Something Weird Video's website)

Who Said Getting Old Was No Fun?

OLD MAN'S WAR by John Scalzi (2005 Tor / 316 pp / hc)
I've been on a military sci-fi binge the past few years, thanks in large part to Robert Buettner's ORPHANGE series, and I've had several people recommend this one from John Sclazi to me (and I'm glad I took the time to read it).
The Colonial Defense Forces (CDF) recruit people when they turn 75 years old to protect the human race and colonies we've started on distant planets. They fit them with new, modified bodies that enable them to fight like advanced soldiers with the stamina of a 20 year-old, and gadgetry that'd make Heinlen himself envious.
Tired of life on earth and being without his wife, 75 year-old John Perry enlists in the CDF and on his way to their space station, meets several like-minded seniors who are about to take the same life-changing plunge. The early parts of OLD MAN'S WAR, in which we see John being modified and trained with his new body and equipment, are quite entertaining (some even spooky), and although at times filled with technobabble, Scalzi keeps it to a minimum and I wasn't lost or bored for a second. One of the more interesting weapons new recruits get are called BrainPals, which are basically micro-computera that are fit into the brain in which crucial data and communication can be given and received without having to utter a word (and what Perry and his new friends name their BrainPals is quite funny). While most of this novel is serious and action-packed, there's lot of well-timed humor, especially during the first half.
Understanding that once he joins the CDF there's no returning to earth, Perry goes on his first mission to rescue a human-colonized planet from a fierce alien race. While the mission is a success, he barely makes it out in one piece, and is rescued by a woman who looks like his late wife. Without giving anything away, Scalzi gives this tale a heart-breaking, romantic-side story that's every bit as good as the alien battles and "skip-jumping" technology that the CDF goes into battle to protect and hopefully learn more about.
I was surprised how quickly the final battle between the CDF and an alien race known as the Rraey is, but OLD MAN'S WAR is a solid, fun read filled with neat ideas, some violent battles, and a cast that I grew to like very quickly. I'm looking forward to reading the next 3 books in this series, and hope the coming film-version of OLD MAN'S WAR is even a quarter-as-good as this stellar novel.
(NOTE: The cover art above is from the hardcover version available only thought www.sfbc.com)

Get a GRIP. . .

I have a very dark sense of humor. Being raised in a house where everyone's chops were busted every hour, on the hour, had something to do with it (not to mention being a life-long fan of Don Rickles and the more "nastier" comedians). I sometimes forget the majority of the world can dish it out, but simply can't take it. I was reminded of this old addage today in the wake of Elizabeth Taylor's passing.
Let me explain:
For starters, I was never a fan of Liz Taylor, who passed away today at the age of 79. Was she a good (even legendary) actress? Sure. Was she a real beauty in her younger years? Without a doubt. But for whatever reason, I was never a fan. Sue me. To each their own. I always preferred scream queens and underground actresses over the popular Hollywood starlets. Again, just my preference.
On every social networking site I belong to, as well as three message boards I frequent, there were tributes to Liz Taylor--everything from simple "R.I.P. Liz" status' to lengthy pieces on how she'll be missed and what a legend the world has lost, blah blah blah (oops, there I go again).
So, in an attempt to make people laugh, I brought up some of the darker things in Liz's life on these threads: the families she helped to destroy, her horrendous parenting skills, her coke and alcohol use, her narcissism--you know, basically the stuff that's been printed in the tabloids since she became a star. And within an hour's time, I ended up removing my attempt at humor from three threads on Facebook (although I left one on a thread that remained civilized), and also from three message boards (boards that are frequented by some of the most liberal, free-thinking friends I have). You'd think these fine folks (some who know me for a while now) would understand I was just breaking chops. I'm indifferent to Liz Taylor; I could have done this to anyone (and in fact, have on several occasions). But for whatever individual reasons some people had (five who even wrote to me on the side asking if I even owned a heart and/or a conscience) it seems they took my comments as hard as if I were insulting their own dead mother.
I asked some of these people if they were related to Liz, and no one was. I mentioned that I brought these things up to try and lighten everyone's mood, and show that (despite) her iconic level of popularity, she was just a human being like you and me.
But again, my seldom-understood sense of humor went over a lot of people's heads and I pissed a lot of them off.
So, I question those who may be reading this who may have been offended by my comments today, which were nothing more than reminding people about some facts of Liz's life: why have I seen some of you laugh at some of the crudest, nastiest jokes allowed by law, yet my lame sarcastic fact-posting has you up in arms? Why do you laugh at insults aimed at other deceased celebrities (and politicians) and never blink an eye? And most of all, why did so many of you take this so personally?
I'm stumped. I understand some people grow close to their idols, but for so many people to feel personally offended that I ragged LIZ TAYLOR simply baffles me.
I'm asking all my friends and colleges who may be reading this to please, please, please GET A GRIP ON REALITY. Elizabeth Taylor was a movie star who made some bad decisions--decisions that on a simple whim I pointed out in an attempt to get a laugh (you know, like almost every single comedian on the planet does on a daily basis?). Taylor also did a lot of good things--things I didn't mention because in the world of comedy, the good things are rarely as funny as the bad. I understand that some may have been offended due to the fact Liz is now deceased--but again, I didn't say anything nasty or that wasn't true, and it wasn't my intention to "insult" a dead person. (On a side note--I'm completely blown away that some of the offended, who are fans of gore films, death metal, and other "extreme" forms of entertainment, could actually have their feathers ruffled over my comment about a mainstream movie star. Un-freaking-believable.).
Let me end this note by (again) stating that I'm still in semi-shock over how many people ripped me a new one today and how many fans of extreme entertainment claimed my comment upset them. I'm not apologizing because no apology is necessary. I can only imagine what would have happened if I aimed a joke in their direction(!). I guess it's safe to assume there aren't as many fans of dark humor out there that I thought there were. Oh well; their loss. And to everyone I say one more time: GET A GRIP. . .

Saturday Night in Beirut*

EVERY SHALLOW CUT by Tom Piccirilli (2011 Chizine Publications / 162 pp / tp)
Piccirilli's latest noir tale is told from the point of view of an unnamed man who we learn is a mid-list author who has lost everything: his 2nd wife, his house, and apparently most of his readership. He lives in a car with his dog, Churchill, and decides to take a cross-country trip back to New York to visit his older brother.
Before he leaves Colorado, he hocks some of his final belongings at a pawn shop and purchases a .38 with some of the money. After a long, tiring trip, his brother is surprised to see him, and reluctantly allows him (and Churchill) to stay for a while.
EVERY SHALLOW CUT's strength is in its slow-building suspense: we know the unnamed author is on the brink of going postal, especially when he hits Manhattan to visit his agent who has (apparently) given up on promoting his books. The author also visits his ex-girlfriend, and though wild thoughts go through his head as they speak on her front stairs, he doesn't act on them.
An old friend in the Bronx (a psychiatric counselor and part-time author himself) offers the author his apartment to crash in, and after going through his rucksack, tries to get get the author to understand he's having a nervous breakdown. The author leaves his friend's apartment after a few days and has a run-in with a young cop, and things quickly get ugly.
At first I felt a bit let-down by CUT's non-dramatic conclusion, but after chewing on it a while, it made me look at this "noirella" in a different way. Piccirilli has once again created a strong, troubled character who we can't take our eyes off; we don't know if he's going to snap or let things go on as always (the ending leaves it for the reader to decide). And as with any good story (regardless of length), we're left wanting more.
(*-Blog title taken from page 124)

A GREAT Late-Night Read...

DEATHWATCH by Lisa Mannetti (2010 Shadowfall Publications / 158 pp / e-book)
Like her debut novel, THE GENTLING BOX, the two novellas collected in DEATHWATCH are historical (set in the late 19th century) and offer some genuine chills and disturbing scenarios.
In DISSOLUTION, young medical student Stuart Granville is lured into helping a surgeon separate his twin daughters who are cojoined at the hip. To make matters more difficult, the twins' dead mother haunts Stuart and her supernatural power becomes stronger when the twins are finally separated. Guess how the twins and Stuart decide to get rid of the evil spirt? I'd tell you but I don't want to ruin this nifty yarn that's overflowing with great gothic atmosphere and dread that builds on every page.
In THE SHEILA NA GIG, teenager Tom Smith reveals why he's leaving Ireland for America to a drunken passenger in the bottom of a ship he manages to bribe his way aboard. Tom's recounting of his dysfunctional family and a powerful idol had me reading through it at top speed and the conclusion was quite satisfying.
While I thought DISSOLUTION was the better of the two, they're both solid horror stories that are perfect for late-night reading, and both feature atmosphere that make things as interesting as the characters and ideas.
DEATHWATCH is a great hold-over until Mannetti's next novel.

ICHI: One ICKY Film (and that's a compliment...)

Now ten years old, I finally got around to seeing Takashi Miike's ICHI THE KILLER (2001), a bizarre, brutal, and funny gangster epic that looked absolutely amazing on the big screen at Lincoln Center's Walter Reade Theater (NYC) as part of a 4-day Miike retrospective.
The story is a simple gang/revenge tale: The Anjo gang finds their leader missing along with 300 million yen. Anjo's right hand man, Kahikara, is an insane sadomasochist who, after torturing the wrong man for information on Anjo's whereabouts, is asked to leave the Yakuza syndicate; but this only pisses him off more and he takes over the Anjo family in a relentless attempt to locate the boss. Then the Anjo gang begin to get picked off in gruesome ways by a man Kahikara learns is named Ichi, who is controlled by an older man named Jijii. Hence, the Anjo gang is also bent on finding Ichi and Jijii. The relationship between Jijii and Ichi is as psychological as cinema gets, and adds a dimension here not seen in any other gangster film.
Miike has created a unique Japanese underworld full of unusual characters, violence that will dare even some seasoned gore-hounds to not look away, and a head-trip of an ending that (so far) I can think of 3 possible meanings for (and I'm sure there's more).
While I found most of the violence comical and over the top (this IS based on a Japanese manga), standard film-goers will surely be turned off by the graphic tongue amputation, brutality toward prostitutes, endless disembowelments, and endless hackings and slashings. Yet despite all the gore, the film features several characters who we care for (both good and bad), and there's a couple of neat twists as the film goes on that will surely keep anyone's interest.
The beautiful Paulyn Sun as Karen
I'm looking forward to seeing ICHI again, as the film BEGS to be watched a few times to take everything in. While I still wouldn't be considered a Miike fanatic, it's easy to see why he has gained such a huge cult following: his chops as a director (especially during the opening sequence) are quite impressive.
Nao Ohmori as the reluctant killer, ICHI

White Dog Takes a Nibble of Manhattan...

Sam Fuller's controversial 1982 film, WHITE DOG, had a rare midnight screening this weekend at the IFC Center in NYC. Thought to have been too risky due to it's racial elements, studio execs refused to release the film, and it wasn't until 1990 when it started playing at revival festivals. In 2008, Criterion did a long-awaited DVD treatment, replacing years of horrible-looking VHS bootlegs.

Kristy McNichol stars as struggling actress Julie who runs over a white German Shepherd late one night. She brings it home, nurses it back to health, and after visiting an animal shleter (and seeing how the dogs are put to death if they're not claimed within 3 days), she decides to keep the seemingly loveable pooch. Good thing, too, as a rapist breaks into her house the next night, and sure enough she's saved by the dog.
The dog chases a rabbit in Kristy's backyard one day, and manages to go on a little adventure, leaving his new home for a few days. He attacks a black man as he drives a street sweeper, causing the vehicle to run through a small department store.

After the shepherd returns home and is cleaned up, Julie takes him to a TV studio where she's filming a commercial. The dog goes bonkers when he see's her co-star (a black woman), and attacks her, putting her in the hospital.

Julie realizes something isn't right, and looks for someone who might be able to de-programme the dog's racial-prejudice. She finds him working at a place (run by Burl Ives!) that trains animals for use in Hollywood movies. Paul (THE TERMINATOR) Winfield plays a man simply named Keys, who is gung-ho to deprogramme White Dogs (the official name given to dogs raised to attack and kill blacks). After several sessions, he manages to gain the dog's trust, but by the time we get to the bleak finale, we realize the old addage of "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" is quite true.

WHITE DOG, despite it's reputation, has the feel of a 1970s TV movie (albeit with a bit more violence, which doesn't go above its PG rating). While easily classifiable as a horror film, it's more of a dark drama which shows the unchanging, hateful nature of mankind and how that hate can be taught to another species (and hence the early controversy with the studio's refusal to release the flm in 1982). Yet I'm convinced if these execs would have actually WATCHED the film, they would have seen it as anything BUT racist: Winfield's character, Keys, manages to breakthrough to the dog, and the ending has the dog taking revenge out on the white man who trained him to hate (albeit the wrong white man).

While not Sam Fuller's finest film, it's an interesting one despite McNichol's less than stellar performance and a few attack scenes that had the audience laughing out loud. (5 dogs were used to play the title character, but you'd never know it...props to the pooches!). It's definitely worth a look, just don't expect to be as shocked or disturbed as the film's reputation may have suggested.
McNichol runs to aid Burl Ives at the conclusion of WHITE DOG