ZOLTAN, HOUND OF DRACULA (1978)

There doesn't seem to be much love around for Zoltan, Hound of Dracula (US title 'Dracula's Dog'). It's always held fond memories for me though, and I remember being genuinely spooked by it as youngster.

I like Zoltan. Okay, so he’s a horrifying hellish hound and a vicious bugger, but he is obedient, faithful and a bit of a cutie.




I can’t help but feel if he attacked me all I’d need to do was give his chin a stroke and we’d be best friends forever.

Not the ideal way to think about the main villain when settling down to watch a horror film you might think. But Zoltan isn’t the scariest dude in this film. Here's Reggie Nalder as the diabolical Veidt Smith:



Here's a quick shot of Reggie without any make-up:



Veidt Smith then, is Dracula's recently resurrected henchman who, with the help of his beloved Zoltan, goes off in search of his dead master's descendant; family man Michael Drake, happily residing in the good old US of A and about to set off on his yearly camping trip with his sickeningly nice wife and kids. He's also bringing along Samson and Annie, his two cute dogs, and their little puppies. Something's going to happen to the puppies, isn't it?

Yes. One mysteriously drowns. Then that night, the family is attacked by Zoltan and a couple of his newly vamped-up canine accomplices. Shaken and upset, the family decide to head off home the next day.

Until up drives the wonderful Jose Ferrer...



... playing Inspector Branco, the Van Helsing-like character who has followed Schmidt all the way from Romania and has a plan to stop him! He explains everything to Michael Drake and quickly wins his trust.

"You leave in the caravan with the kids love, I'm going to stay in a fisherman's hut for the rest of the weekend with this old guy who I've just met." Michael explains to his strangely understanding wife, who packs up and drives off with the kids, never to reappear. This is unfair - I don’t think you should be allowed to just leave and head off home half way through a horror film. How disappointing would 'The Hills Have Eyes' or 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' have been if the potential victims were allowed to say "Sod this, I'm going home. This place is beginning to annoy me"...?

Anyway, the Inspector's plan is for Michael to be 'bait', and for the two of them to hole up in a nearby fisherman's hut and await the attack. The rest of the plan is unclear...in fact, I’m going to stop even referring to it as a ‘plan’ because it patently wasn’t. Making someone ‘bait’ to lure attackers is only PART of a plan. The bit that happens when the attackers attack is the OTHER part - most would say the most important part.

But when the Zoltan and co. attack that night what does the Inspector do? Basically just shrugs his shoulders and gives Michael a look that says ‘sorry, I didn’t actually expect them to attack.' Thanks Inspector, thanks a lot. So the pair simply wait in the shack, huddling together while the three dogs try and make their way in. Eventually Zoltan comes crashing through the roof and lands on top of the planless pair, knocking them both unconscious.



Zoltan couldn’t have aimed better if he’d tried, although they did make it a bit easy for him, huddled together in the dead centre of the shack like that.

Zoltan's about to vamp up Drake but would you believe it - here comes dawn! And so the devilish dobermann is forced to beat a hasty retreat.

For some strange reason it appears not to have dawned (no pun intended) on the Inspector or Michael that the dogs have anything to do with Veidt Smith. The fact that there were 'two coffins' though is beginning to register with the Inspector but bloody hell it's not difficult is it?

The Inspector's next 'plan' is to head back to the original camping ground. "I have a feeling that something will happen there." He says, which once again, isn't a plan in my book. Nevertheless, Michael agrees, and the two head back.

Not long left to the film now, which Veidt Smith underlines by reminding Zoltan that they "cannot survive without a master another night". This leads to a rather rushed and unsatisfying ending and it's over all too soon - an extra ten or fifteen minutes running time and another plot twist could have made all the difference. What about 'turns out that the wife and kids didn’t manage to escape but have been kidnapped by Smith, who has them holed up in a nearby abandoned spooky old house?'. That would have worked for me. “I don’t remember this abandoned spooky old house being here before.” Michael could say to the Inspector as they enter for an exciting final showdown.



But no, all that happens is that the Inspector finds Smith and after a quick fight, gives him a good staking. In the meantime Zoltan and his doggy disciples attack Michael, who takes refuge in the Inspector's car. But damn! It's a convertible, so the roof has to shut before he's safe. The fact that it's the slowest closing roof that I've ever seen in a car really racks up the tension. Maybe they could have made it even slower and added ten minutes to the film that way.

Michael notices his beloved dog Samson rushing to rescue him and lets him into the car. Big mistake, as Samson's eyes glow a hellish vampiric glow and he attacks!

All this is happening as the inspector and a couple of friendly hunters reappear. Much dog-fighting and dog-staking ensues. Michael kills Zoltan by flashing at him (with his crucifix). Zoltan backs off and falls over a cliff that appears from nowhere behind him. He lands on a fence spike. Game over.

It's the end to another successful night's dog killing, and everyone laughs, slaps each other's backs, packs up and heads off home. We just have time for the camera to pan slowly across the ground... to eventually reach Michael's lost pup, alone in the middle of the forest... with fangs and glowing eyes!



Zoiks! THE END. Or is it?

SHOCK WAVES (1977)

Day #397

Back in the days before I became The Igloo Keeper, I was a bit of a hooligan - especially when I was with the lads and we had a few beers in us!

I remember one trip we took to the Munich Beer Festival, when we all ended up on stage, shouting “Enger-land! Enger-land!” while we were simulating sex with each other. While we were dressed as prominent members of the Third Reich. If memory serves me right I was Hitler, Fat Daz was dressed up as Goering and Joey the Limp was Goebbels.

It was a great night but we were lucky not to get arrested, in hindsight. Especially as the night in question was 4th September 1939, the day after Great Britain declared war on Germany! Luckily I had incriminating photographs of Karl Fiehler the Mayor of Munich (having group sex with Goering, Goebbels and Hitler at the Munich Beer Festival, coincidentally) and he was able to spirit us away from the enraged crowd so that were all safely back in blighty in time for a spot of breakfast at The Criterion.

But that was a long time ago, and that silly nazi party full of drug addicts, sexual deviants and unhinged twats, has surely long since vanished from our collective memory. Here's a film...

SHOCKWAVES (1977)



Don't believe anyone that tells you Shock Waves is an under-rated classic. It's not.

In fact, it's the worst type of bad film - one that ruins a promising idea. That decent idea is having Nazi Zombies attack a group of holidaymakers shipwrecked on a near-deserted island. But Shock Waves is so disjointed and barely coherent that by the end of the film I was no longer interested, and had drifted away into that land of make believe where Quentin and Eli regularly commission me to re-make under-rated horror classics (that aren't actually under-rated) based on 5 key points. And here they are:

1 More Blood

Shock Waves is a zombie flick without any blood. There should be a law against this, surely? All zombie flicks should have gallons of blood, and a few kilos of entrails thrown in for good measure. Shock Waves has neither. When the zombies attack they grab their victim like they're asking for a dance and slip back underwater with them. How disappointingly unhorrific of them. I understand the film-makers were on a tight budget but come-on, how much does red food-colouring and some cheap sausages cost?

2 Less Daylight

Again, for budgetary reasons I understand most of the filming was done in the day-time. A big mistake, as the zombie nazis lack of decent make-up soon become clear. Get them out of the daylight and make them lurk in the dark and creep around in the shadows like any zombie worth their salt, and we've got a scare factor of x5.5 or even more. It's not rocket science.

3 Less Hyperspace

The piss-poor plotting of Shock Waves means that characters routinely split up from each other without warning and turned up in completely different locations in the next scene with no explanation. This is pretty elementary stuff. So let's just sit down, take a few deep breaths and try to make it clear where the characters are going and why they're going there, rather than flitting about like your last man on 'Asteroids' with a stuck 'Hyperspace' button.

4 Less Waste, More Class

If you're lucky enough to get 2 of the finest ever Horror actors to appear in your film, namely John Carradine and Peter Cushing, write a scene for them! Carradine dies before Cushing even appears in Shock Waves, a great waste. Alternatively, if you're lucky enough to have Peter Cushing in your Horror film with one of the finest speaking voices in the English language, write some dialogue that fills his screen-time (believe me, he'll make your shit sound convincing) rather than have him aimlessly splosh about in knee length water for longer than is seemly for a man of his advancing years.

5 Military Precision
Some genuine nazis, yesterday

At least make your Nazi Zombies act like they've had some semblance of military training. At no point in Shock Waves do we get a sense of impending doom, or even that the Nazi Zombies are working towards any plan. They just kind of shamble about, and appear to bump into their victims almost at random. Horror Screenwriting Template #12 = Put your victims in an enclosed space and surround it by zombies. Simple yet effective.

There you have it then, 5 points to make the remake of Shock Waves a Horror to reckon with. And this time round I'd have Sean Pertwee star in it, he loves getting disembowelled...



... and let's have Brian Blessed as the Boat Captain!



Tune in next week, Iglooists, for my remake of 'Paranormal Activities' with Danny De Vito and Arnold Schwarzenneger...

KILLDOZER (1974)

Day #110101011011010101100

Despite everything else there are moments of tranquil beauty in this place. Like stepping out of the igloo into a sunlit morning and taking in the endless miles of virgin snow shimmering reluctantly like the veil of a teenage bride.

But even such small pleasures cannot be relied upon because as I exited the igloo today to take my morning constitutional, a terrible sight met my eyes. Churned earth. Mud everywhere (surprising, as there's no mud under the ice). Large tracks despoiling the landscape. What in God's name?

The tracks were 100's of metres long in parts. It took me a while to discover that they formed letters, and even longer to painstakingly follow the tracks and record what they were trying to say.

When eventually I came to the end of the last track I reviewed my scrap of paper to try and make sense of the message.

It simply said "Duck!".

As I stood there, trying to work out what this could possibly mean, something hit me on the back of the head and I passed out.

When I came to I was in the igloo, back on my bed, naked and shivering. There were several puncture marks on my right arm and a sharp pain in my ar...ha! Here comes a film!

KILLDOZER (1974)



Killdozer starts with a view of a strange rock hurtling towards earth. This is a great start to a film, any film. There hasn't yet been a film made that starts with a view from space of a strange rock hurtling towards earth that has been a let-down. Except perhaps, for An Inconvenient Truth. And even then, it would only have taken a little bit of imagination on the part of the film-makers to turn Al Gore into a mindless space zombie and have his Powerpoint presentation run amok, killing the world's leading environmental campaigners. The tagline could be 'Nothing is scarier than the truth - apart form Excelor, the mutant spreadsheet!'. Maybe an idea for the sequel, when global warming turns out to be a myth*.

Killdozer is a perfectly formed and skillfully directed 'made for TV' horror movie from the early 70's, with a solid, professional cast that has the balls to play it straight. See, this is what's lacking in a lot of modern horror movies. Balls.

And few have bigger balls than Clint Walker (Kelly) the gentle giant who we last saw in The Dirty Dozen complaining that he didn't like being pushed:


"I didn't mean ta kill him, Major. Honest!"

The rest of the guys have great construction worker type names like Clyde and Mack (but disappointingly, no Kowalski), and together form a standard horror template that has stood the test of time - isolate a group of bickering humans and make them share their living space with something that wants to kill them horribly (Alien, The Thing, Killer Shrews etc).

This small, isolated group of bickering construction workers discovers a strange looking rock on the island that they're working on. They try shifting it with their bulldozer. The rock glows blue, the bulldozer glows blue and Mack, the driver, screams! He's been mysteriously hurt and dies later, not before warning Kelly about the bulldozer.

Can there really be something strange going on with the bulldozer? A standard D-9 to my untrained eye, with its primary working tools being the blade, affixed to the front and controlled by six hydraulic arms, and the optional ripper, which can be attached to the back. The blade is mainly intended for earth-moving and bulk material handling - pushing up sand, dirt, and rubble. It also can be used to push other heavy equipment such as earth-moving scraper pans.

But yes, there is something strange going on with the D-9, and I don't just mean the fact that the drive sprocket has been elevated to give the belly pan more ground clearance. You see, it's turned into Killdozer - an evil killing machine, with ominous flashing headlights for eyes, and a cool wibbly wobbly synthesizer theme tune that sounds a bit like someone from the 70s would imagine a killer bulldozer's brain would sound like.

Soon the gang of workers are pitched into a battle of survival. It's man against machine. And machines don't die. To make matters worse, the gang do stupid things similar to this guy...



...like trying to hide in metal tubes right in front of the bulldozer (goodbye Al) or stalling a car and stubbornly trying to restart it right in front of the bulldozer rather than making a run for it (farewell Clyde, hope they let you go for that swim in heaven).

It's natural to watch Killdozer and think of ways to get the better of it. What would we do in a similar situation? Sitting on it's roof and having a nap until things blow over sounds like a fine idea to me, but of course, that wouldn't stop its murderous tendencies. Machines can't be killed, which presents us with a real problem so... why not make Killdozer fall in love?

If you don't believe it's possible check out this little cutie called Yuchai:



Yuchai - or YCT306S-5A to her friends - has a firm yet supple yellow rounded fiberglass body with a small LW-6 backhoe on its cute little rear hitch. Of particular interest to Killdozer would surely be the fact that she has a full width box scraper!

However, just as the final two members of the construction team, Kelly and Holvig, are discussing the possibility of a love match between the two dozers, Killdozer comes crashing into view and all thoughts of romance are gone!

Kelly and Holvig have been busting each other's chops all the way through the film but are slowly growing to respect one other...



... and after an unsuccessful but nicely choreographed robot-wars style scrap (no pun intended) between their crane and Killdozer (which this still photograph doesn't quite capture the excitement of)...



...they come up with a last ditch plan - and it's an old classic - electrocution!

Working in perfect harmony now, they lure Killdozer into their hastily constructed killing zone and flick the switch. Killdozer bursts into flame and his synth-soundtrack turns briefly into a free-form jazz wig-out before going silent. His headlights flicker for one final time and turn off. He's dead.

The two buddies have survived, and all is well - but how will they explain things to the authorities? "Tell them the guys died in landslide." suggests Holvig. "Nope," replies Kelly "you gotta tell the truth..." Which is a noble sentiment for sure, but I do hope that Holvig eventually managed to change Kelly's mind... company investigators tend not to believe the truth. Ask Ripley.

* - I know it isn't, I'm scared too!

Is your son the Antichrist? A handy cut-out-and-keep guide...

You're the proud father of a new son. Congratulations! What's more, things are going particularly well at work. So why are you feeling so uneasy?



Y'know, it's natural for every new father to suspect that his son is the Antichrist so don't despair. Simply take this quick quiz and all will be revealed...

N.B. A print-out of this post makes a thoughtful and useful christening present for other first-time dads!


1. What childcare provisions do you currently have in place for your son?

a) We look after him ourselves of course!

b) 2 days at a local nursery every week – usually Monday and Wednesday.

c) Not quite sure. A sinister woman turned up unannounced one day, so we’ve just let her look after him and take complete charge of running our household.


2. What is your child’s favourite toy or play-thing?

a) A red wind-up racing car called ‘Roary’.

b) A glove puppet in the shape of a cat that he insists on taking everywhere - even to bed!

c) A bloody great Rottweiler that growls constantly.


3. What relationship does your wife have with her son?

a) They are inseparable, laughing and hugging each other constantly.

b) They obviously love each other very much, but when he does something naughty he gets scolded in no uncertain terms.

c) She screams when his name is mentioned and refuses to let him anywhere near her hospital bed.


4. Does your child have any irrational fears?

a) He’s not took keen on the dark, so we’ve installed a night-light.

b) He cried for hours after his last visit to the dentist.

c) Any church. He’s not too keen on Longleat Safari Park either.



5. What are you planning on buying your child for Xmas?

a) A very small piano. Nothing too expensive, mind.

b) A fire-engine.One of those that he can sit on and ride around in. Perhaps a matching helmet too.

c) 7 knives pounded into his chest in the shape of a cross.



Mostly ‘A’s

No need to worry, you have a perfectly normal boy! Although that doesn’t mean your wife should start balancing precariously on balconies when he’s riding his tricycle nearby.

Mostly ‘B’s

He’s not the Antichrist. He’s just a very naughty boy.

Mostly ‘C’s

Sorry, but yes – your son is the Antichrist. However, if it’s any consolation, it’s my problem too. I took a photograph of myself in the mirror and only went and cut my bloody head off! Shall we give him an early Christmas present?

BLACULA (1972)

Day #Whatever

Another blizzard. The whiteout contrasting completely with my dark, dark thoughts.

My depression - deep and black - takes hold swiftly and I find myself questioning my very existence.

Who was I? Who am I? Why am I The Igloo Keeper?

Do I even exist at all, or am I merely the result of someone else's imagination - a lame, half-hearted pastiche of The Crypt Keeper and the premise of MST3K?

Who knows. But hallo! I see the TV flicker on, and my hopes are raised! What I need is something to make me forget these dark thoughts and my black, black mood...


BLACULA (1972)

I think I like the idea of Blacula more than the movie itself. It’s a great concept with a truly righteous and iconic title and yet… it’s kinda clunky. Clunky but funky. Put it this way - the trailer is much more fun than the film itself.

Forgive me Blacula, but at times I became distracted by having to dodge the plot-holes and illogical behaviour of the characters as they struggled to move the plot along to the next stage. Now, plot holes and illogical behaviour don’t actually bother me a great deal. All I’m saying is that they do prevent Blacula from being a bona fide classic – and from me giving it a 5-star rating (which reminds me, I don’t actually do ratings. Forget I mentioned it).

Although Blacula’s funkiness ultimately transcends its clunkiness, I still think they coulda and shoulda have turned up the funk-o-meter a couple of clicks.

Blacula himself is great, and is portrayed as a rather noble, sympathetic creature by the renowned, classically trained actor William Marshall. Not sure about his hairy cheekbones though.

Dr. Gordon Thomas - the hero - is not so great. For my Blacula hero, I want a hard-living, hard drinking, wisecracking dude that would give Shaft a run for his money, with threads so sharp they’d make Bootsy Collins cry and a line of chat so jivetastic that he causes booties to bounce at the mere mention of his name.

But what we get instead is a slightly humourless, miserable, rude and brooding hero. You’ll remember my reservations on brooding heroes from my review of The Tattooist.

Anyway, none of this really matters because we’ve got some gorgeous chicks with awesome Afros to enjoy. I’ve always been in awe of Afros – If I wasn’t a short, fat bald honky I’d probably get one – and the ones on display througout Blacula are great. None more so than that on the drop dead gorgeous Denise Nicholas. I mean, just look:

The plot is fairly recognisable to us horror movie buffs - Blacula turns up in the modern day and just happens to bump into the spitting image of his long lost love. He wants her. He makes her want him. But the hero wants her and wants to stop him. He wants the hero to stop wanting to stop him. And she wants to stop the hero from stopping him. All this makes for a thrilling finale, aided and abetted by those wonderful trigger-happy cops from the LAPD. Who kill her. But not him. So he tries to get her to be him, erm, to be his… I’ll shut up now, I’m actually starting to annoy myself.

Dig the trailer:

THE SWARM (1978)

Day #180

Today I made a new friend. A beautiful bumble-bee landed on my igloo window ledge!

The poor little mite was shivering with cold as I picked it up and bought it over to the glow of the fire for warmth. Tenderly, I wrapped it in a tiny blanket and gave it several drops of medicinal brandy with an eye-dropper.

“I shall call you Basil.” I declared, “We shall go on such adventures together you and I Basil! Why, with you at my side I shall…”

Suddenly Basil leapt up and stung me slap bang in the middle of the gangrenous wound where my nose used to be.

“NNNYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!” I continued, as I beat Basil to death with a nearby frying pan.

“Shame on me!” I wailed, “I’ve killed my only friend!”

That’s the fourth best friend I’ve killed in less than 5 years, come to think of it. Is this one of the reasons why I’m still igloo-bound?


THE SWARM (1979)

Brad Crane: “We've been fighting a losing battle against the insects for fifteen years, but I never thought I'd see the final face-off in my lifetime. And I never dreamt that it would turn out to be the bees…” (petulantly) “They've always been our friend!”

The Swarm raises an interesting question – for a film to be considered truly bad, does it need to have big stars and a huge budget?

If the answer is 'yes', then The Swarm delivers, with Michael Caine in the lead role (as Dr. Crane), supported by the likes of Henry Fonda, Richard Chamberlain and Richard Wydmark. Not to mention Olivia De Havilland. And the one that wasn't Mrs Robinson from The Graduate.


General Slater: “Houston on fire. Will history blame me, or the bees?”


I have a theory. Namely, that the problem with The Swarm is that it tries to be a disaster movie rather than a monster movie. If it had taken it’s cue from 'Tarantula' rather than 'Towering Inferno', things woulda, coulda and shoulda been a whole lot better:


John Agar wouldn’t take 156 minutes of The Swarm’s ridiculously elongated running time to save the world. He’d grin, wisecrack, smoke endless cigarettes and beat the monster to a pulp without breaking into a sweat in barely over an hour. And he’d still make some time to get the girl.

Roll on 20 years and we’ve got a strange Michael Caine performance where he alternates between speaking ever so slowly and quietly – like he’s on valium – and shouting hysterically and jabbing his finger whenever he speaks to General Slater (Richard Wydmark).

Major Baker: “Can we really count on a scientist who prays?”
General Slater: “I wouldn't count on one who doesn't.”

Caine just mooches around without a plan as the death toll rises to an impressively ridiculous level. And he muses a lot. He mooches and muses. "Tut! Who could have guessed that the first alien invasion of America would be by bees?" he mutters without a care in the world as news of 30,000 fatalities – caused solely by his lack of coming up with an Agar-esque plan - comes over the radio.

Brad Crane: “Bees! Thousands of ‘em!”

Eventually – after lots of mooching, musing and a few pointless sub-plots (like an octogenarian love triangle that goes off the rails in spectacular fashion) Caine/Crane stumbles upon a winning plan and saves the day. At least… for the time being… will The Swarm ever be back?

Actually, yes they will if new of a remake comes to pass. Let’s hope the dialogue remains intact. And that Clint Eastwood napalms The Swarm’s sorry ass in the closing shot.

END CREDITS: THE AFRICAN KILLER BEE PORTRAYED IN THIS FILM BEARS ABSOLUTELY NO RELATIONSHIP TO THE INDUSTRIOUS, HARD-WORKING AMERICAN
HONEY BEE TO WHICH WE ARE INDEBTED FOR POLLINATING VITAL CROPS THAT FEED OUR NATION.

TWINS OF EVIL (1971)

Day #232

Upon returning to my igloo after a fishing expedition I notice a small object lying outside the igloo. It looks familiar...

Ye gods! It's a lump of flesh!

Ye gods again! It's a nose! A human nose!

Gingerly, I quickly pick it up and throw it as far away as I can. Thankfully it disappears for good down a nearby crevasse(I must get that fixed).

I enter the igloo and look around carefully. Nothing else has been moved. Yet someone is toying with me surely? Someone is following me, leaving me macabre clues... a human nose!? What twisted mind could conceive of such sport?

The mystery becomes clearer when I look in the mirror and notice that my severely frostbitten nose is no longer there. It must have fallen off. Outside somewhere.

"Bollocks." I mutter.


TWINS OF EVIL (1971)

Twins of Evil is a fabulously bloody & bawdy Hammer romp that rather bravely shies away from a simple tale of ‘good versus evil’ and instead manages to create complex characters that perhaps contain shades of both.

Made in 1971, only a year or so after nudity was invented, it’s the third and final instalment of the fairly loose Karnstein trilogy (after The Vampire Lovers and Lust for the Vampire, both from 1970), and it’s simply a fabulous Hammer offering in its own right.

The Twins, Frieda and Maria, are played by Playboy Playmate twins Madeleine and Mary Collinson (who thank god are over the age of consent).

We first see them as they come to stay with their Aunt Katy & Uncle Gustav. It soon becomes clear that rather being Twins of Evil, we have a good twin and a naughty twin. Which would obviously have been a much weaker title, so Twins of Evil it is.

Peter Cushing is in top form as Uncle Gustav - a ruthless Witchfinder General type who leads his religious followers ‘The Brotherhood’ on regular witch-hunts that invariably end with a nubile, innocent, young wench being burned at the stake. We’re also treated to a formidable looking vampire with great hair in Count Karnstein (Damien Thomas).

The clever plot moves along at a rip-roaring pace as blood-drained bodies start to turn up all over the countryside and The Brotherhood roam around unchecked, burning any innocent maiden that takes their fancy, yet rather shamefully being reluctant to visit Castle Karnstein, the real source of evil!

In the meantime, naughty twin Frieda catches the eye of both Count Karnstein AND the resident hero Anton. Where will all this lead to? Will the fact that they’re identical twins lead to any confusion and mistaken identity? You wouldn’t bet it against it would you?

There’s just time for some sexy topless vampire shenanigans before we get to the tremendously bloody final battle at Catle Karnstein.

And I mean bloody. Count Karnstein and his huge henchman aren't in the mood to go quietly, and swords are brandished and axes thrown with a devil-may-care recklessness that just wouldn't be allowed in todays more Health & Safety conscious age. Gallons of bright red Hammer blood is spilled and we get some shockingly graphic deaths - one in particular that comes as a bit of a surprise.

So - one of the best Hammer finales ever, surely? And a fitting end to the Karnstein legacy...

IT'S ALIVE (1974)

Day #5

Lately I've been falling into the most morbid of stupors. Unwilling to rise in the morning. Appetite gone. The black dog of depression growling softly somewhere in the back of my mind...

My mood is not lightened when I take a medicinal brandy and discover too late it was the bottle of urine I'd been saving for a rainy day. This unfortunate incident has made me resolve to do 2 important things in future:

a) Stop saving my urine in brandy bottles.

and

b) Stop saving my urine for a rainy day.

Anyway, enough talk of urine. Perhaps a film will lighten my mood. A jaunty musical perhaps? Or even a rom-com I daresay? Aha! Here comes one now:

IT'S ALIVE (1974)



This film genuinely surprised me. The ending in particular hit me with a sucker-punch to the gut. But let's rewind to the start...

I was ready to laugh heartily all the way through It's Alive's outrageous and frankly ridiculous premise (killer mutant new-born baby makes a run for it and terrorises the city), and when the poor Carnation milkman meets his end in one of the funniest scenes I've seen in a long-time, I was even more convinced that I was going to get a camp so-bad-its-good gorefest...

But I didn't. Instead, It's Alive stays rather low-key. Certainly as low-key as you can expect from a film about a killer mutant new-born baby. So, rather than scenes of a nappy-clap monstrosity terrorising neighbourhoods, we get a fairly realistic portrayal of a family that has had their world torn apart. Their 'monsters' are so-called nurses with hidden tape-recorders and representatives from drug companies with shady ulterior motives.

Of course, their other monster is a killer mutant new-born baby on the loose. And a fine looking little fella he is - one of legendary monster-maker Rick Baker's earliest works. The scary little oddball (I mean the baby, not Rick Baker) is kept in the shadows and we only get fleeting glimpses of him now and then. A nice touch.

The finale when the father confronts his wounded offspring is genuinely moving and I don't mind admitting I had a lump in my throat. It was rather beautifully acted by the late John P. Ryan, although through most of the film I had difficulty picking up what he was saying. It sounds to my untrained Scottish ears like he had a fairly thick Noo Yoik accent - and kinda mumbled as well. Towards the film I suddenly realised who his voice reminded me off - Oddball from Kelly's Heroes!

Watch it for yourself and tell me it ain't so.

So all in all, another triumph for Larry Cohen. He certainly knows how to pack some thought-provoking issues into his films. In this instance, it's 'what the hell kind of drugs are we being fed by the major co-orporations'? And this is way back in 1974 remember, so pretty prescient stuff.

The final pay-off of It's Alive sets up a sequel beautifully. And I wouldn't be surprised if whoever is controlling the Igloo's TV reception sends me one to review very shortly. Call it a hunch.

In the meantime. Here's the trailer:

DR JEKYLL AND SISTER HYDE (1971)

Day #343

Sartre once said "Hell is other people" but obviously the beady-eyed existentialist twat had never spent 343 - or whatever it's been - days in a bloody freezing cold igloo. In an arctic wasteland. In a force-field.

I yearn for some company with all my soul. Someone real. Someone human. For all I have is the ghosts who haunt my dreams. The ghosts of those I have slain. Of those I have hurt. Of those who I've wronged. And of those who I wanted to wrong but didn't get round to wronging.

In the name of God, how long will this cursed solitude last???

DR JEKYLL AND SISTER HYDE (1971)



With a title – and a premise – straight out of a Two Ronnies Christmas Special ( Ronnie Corbett would play Dr Jekyll. Ronny Barker would be the hapless detective. Sister Hyde would be… Kate O’ Meara probably)

thank God we’ve got the wonderful Ralph Bates to make this shit sound plausible. In my opinion he’s on a par with Peter Cushing at being utterly, utterly convincing even when spouting the most ludicrous gobbledegook and bamboozling mumbo-jumbo.

Wonderful wonderful actor, Ralph Bates. What a striking looking chap – black, black, hair. Black, black eyes. Black, black… clothes as well usually. And features so sharp they’d cut your throat. Although he appeared in a mere handful of Hammer Horrors he shone and oozed class in every one - his Baron Frankenstein is a wonderful sociopath, and he died far too soon in ‘Taste the Blood of Dracula’ for my liking.

He died far too soon for my liking in real life as well, succumbing to cancer in 1981, at only 51 years of age. Robbing us of many wonderful performances…

Dr Jekyll and sister Hyde then. Ronnie Corbett, sorry, Ralph Bates plays Dr Jekyll, a gaunt young chap who spends way too much time in his laboratory doing all sorts of weird and wonderful experiments - searching for the elixir of life, no less.

So intent is he on his research that he fails to notice he has won the heart of the attractive young lady who lives upstairs for him. Actually, she’s fairly annoying so maybe he just doesn’t give a toss.

Back to his lab we go, and exciting news! He’s done it – he’s found the secret of everlasting life! Only one slight catch, something hardly worth bothering about surely, not even worth mentioning imho… his elixir turns him into a woman - Sister Hyde, played by the wonderfully cast Martine Beswick. And what a great looking woman she is - and she also looks kind of like Ralph Bates, which can’t have been an easy thing to pull off. So fair play her to then. And because it’s the 70’s, we also get to see her fondle her breasts a bit. Fair play to her again. Apparently the drop dead gorgeous Caroline Munro turned down the part because of this brief nude scene. So the opposite of fair play to her then.

Dr Jekyll is now in turmoil (as was I when I almost got caught dressed as woman in the East End of London. But that’s another story) and he finds himself spiralling downwards ever downwards into an abyss of corpse-snatching, mutilations, murders and mistakenly ordering ladies undergarments. Again, behaviour which I must profess to being all too familiar with.

When his bodysnatching accomplices Burke and Hare get lynched, Dr Jekyll resorts to finding his own victims - the prostitutes of London’s old east End. This being the late Victorian era, it’s soon becomes clear that Dr Jekyll is in fact, doing the deeds that we know ascribe to Jack the Ripper.

Whoah! I hear you say. Jack the Ripper? Burke and Hare? Surely they were years apart? Surely Burke and Hare were actually from Edinburgh now that you come to think of it? Well yes, I must confess you’re spot on. In fact this peculiar discrepancy in time and place is listed as a ‘goof’ in IMDB. But I say piff and poppycock to this - a goof? Come on, it’s a work of genius! Jack the Ripper and Burke and Hare appearing together in a Hammer Horror is just as it should be. This is Hammer world remember folks, not the real world. And the two are very different places. For example when was the last time you walked through a forest at night and the sun was shining?

And because it’s Hammer world we’re in, it’s not too long until an angry mob appears from nowhere intent on dishing out some vigilante justice to the devilish Dr J and/or Sister H. He/she escapes, but instead of hailing a Hansom cab and making a swift exit, he (I’ve decide he’s a he) decides to climb up onto a very high and very unsafe roof.

The end is now on sight. Dr Jekyll only has time to quickly turn into Sister Hyde before falling to his death. The moral of the story as the credits roll is obvious.
DON’T. PLAY. GOD. Christ, how many times do you have to spell it out to these people??

Here's the trailer:

CAPTAIN KRONOS - VAMPIRE HUNTER (1974)

A great film. Dammit, this SHOULD have been the first in a series of raunchy Captain Kronos escapades!

But it wasn't. That was the plan, but poor box office returns - and the demise of Hammer - put paid to it. So while we have a sequel to the likes of 'The Whole Nine Yards' and 'Miss Congeniality', we only have one Captain Kronos to enjoy. And only one season of 'Firefly', which is another travesty - but back to Kronos...

Captain Kronos himself, played by Horst Janson, is gorgeous. Think James Hunt crossed with a James Hunt lookalike:



If I was female, or just a little bit gayer, I'd shack up with CK at the drop of a hat, and roam around the country with him and his hunchback sidekick Grost. This is exactly what the frankly stunning Caroline Munro does in her role as Carla...

... even though it turns out that Captain Kronos is a bit rough on the shagging front. The memory of having to kill his wife and child when they turned into vampires has made him cold and distant. But let's push such bedtime foibles aside and get down to the business of vampire hunting!

A mysterious shadowy figure is stalking the pretty young girls of some typical Hammer countryside. These innocent young maidens end up drained, wizened and haggard looking. Old, ugly and scary! Time and time again we're shocked as a seemingly lovely young damsel turns to face us and YE GODS! She's turned into a scary old hag! I say 'hats off' to the actresses whose job it is to play these old hags actually. Can't be easy for them, because no doubt some of them were lookers back in the day. Then one fine morning, the call from their agent comes in, saying something like, "So then the audience sees the back of this attractive young maiden, who turns round and - bloody hell, it's horrible! It's you! Everyone screams and shits themselves, it's a great part!"

Back to the story. Kronos and co. arrive to team up with Dr. Marcus, an old friend of Kronos. I say team up, they actually end up killing him when he turns into a vampire. Despite being professional vampire hunters it's quite an inept killing as they stake him, then hang him, then try and set fire to him, before he ends it himself with a crucifix. He obviously got bored of them messing about.

Eventually we're led to the local castle...

Hammer Horror Rule #129: Any murders or supernatural goings on will always be down to the residents of the largest house in the locality.

... where a brother and sister and their haggard old mother come under suspicion. What's more, this family have been seen hanging around the grave of their dear departed father. An expert swordsman. As is Kronos. Wouldn't it be great if we get a swordsman showdown finale?

And we do. It ends with Kronos victorious, and dumping Carla (the swine) with the words, "I'm off to fight evil, wherever it may lurk!". As an aside, I once tried splitting up with an old girlfriend using that exact line and still have a 'J' shaped scar on my chin from where she threw a 'Police Academy 5: Assignement: Miami Beach' video at me. But obviously Kronos has much more style than me, and so he gallops of with Grost, into the distance and onto another great adventure. But not another film, unfortunately. Humbug!

VAULT OF HORROR (1973)

Ah.... Vault of Horror. As comfortable as a favourite pair of slippers. As welcome as a scotch on the rocks from the good lady wife when you return from a hard day at the office. As faithful as an...erm, a faithful dog...

... for this is one of those wonderful Amicus British Horror anthologies from the 70's. Great British actors present include Tom Baker, Terry-Thomas and Denholm Elliot. Denholm Elliot is a fantastic actor and always plays exactly the same part - a shifty guy who has double-crossed someone and is now a nervous wreck, in mortal fear of his life. And who then dies. Brilliant.

It all starts with 5 strangers in a lift. The lift doesn't stop at the ground floor (it would be a rubbish film if it did) but goes onto the sub-basement and traps them in a vault. Handily furnished with comfy chairs and alcohol. The 5 pass the time be swapping stories of recent nightmares... nightmares... nightmares... nightmares...

No spoilers ahead - don't worry, something deep inside me, some ancient law of horror prevents me from even thinking about revealing the ending to these delicious little tales of terror. A brief summary of each then:

Midnight Mess
A most enjoyable opener. The terrific Daniel Massey (very posh. moustache. you'll recognise him) visits a small, deserted town to do away with his sister, the swine! But where are the inhabitants of the town? And what about that charming little restaurant? What is on the menu?

A Neat Job
Wonderful! This one has stayed with me ever since I first saw it aged 8 or 9 back in the day. Terry-Thomas is a stickler for tidiness. Will his wife be able to keep the house tidy enough to meet his expectations? Or will... I've said too much already.

This Trick'll Kill You
A pretty poor third installment. A magician searches for a new trick in India. Why, he's desperate enough to kill for it. And there are no repercussions for him whatsoever...
Only joking. Obviously there are some repercussions.

Bargain in Death
Poor. notable only for the Horror writer's "There's no money in horror!" line and the fact that we see him reading a novelisation of a previous Amicus horror anthology Tales From the Crypt! The plot? He plans an insurance scam that involves him being buried alive. Unwise, as it turns out.

Drawn and Quartered
A classic finale. Tom Baker is the wronged artist who wreaks revenge on his wrongers (try saying that after seven Christmas egg-nogs) with the help of some nifty voodoo that allows him to trash his paintings with horrifying consequences for the person in the drawing. One of the wrongers is Denholm Elliott, who plays a shifty guy who has double-crossed someone and is now a nervous wreck, in mortal fear of his life. And who then dies. He always does.

The tales end and we're back in the vault. The lift door lights up. Time for one final twist, perhaps?

BLACK CHRISTMAS (1974)

An appalingly obvious choice of film perhaps but don't worry - I'm not hanging around. I wasn't impressed with this so-called classic. The pacing was a bit frustrating, the ending was unsatisfying and... well I just couldn't be arsed with it. That last sentence is quite a good example of why I'm not a film critic. Anyway, as a festive homage to the 3 wise men and 3 shepherds, here's my 3 word review of Black Christmas:


Check. The. Attic!


Merry Christmas everyone!

DUEL (1971)

Where did it all go wrong Mr. Spielberg? Duel was the last decent film that this little-known Director made before sliding into sentimental mediocrity. You may occasionally catch one of his snooze-fests pop up on a dreary afternoon, but he remains largely forgotten.

The plot is a simple one. Truck chases car.

The guy in the car being chased - the chasee - is Dennis Weaver, looking very 70's indeed (as he does in all the films I've seen him. All 70's films now that I recall, so perhaps not that surprising actually. Forget this bit in brackets).



But why is he being chased? And who's in the truck?

Rather refreshingly, this being the 70's, there are no obvious answers. This was a decade where film-makers didn't find the need to spoon-feed you every ending as if you were brainless idiots. You could argue that there were less brainless idiots about in the 70s I guess, but that's another debate, to be dealt with in another film (my as yet unfinished screenplay of 'Dracula in Space').

Horror rule #754: If the meaning of a horror film is unclear you can always get away with calling it a post 9/11 allegory

In my opinion, Duel is an incredibly prescient post 9/11 allegory. Dennis Weaver is the everyman American, happily and innocently going about his business when all hell is unleashed by a faceless, relentless enemy that just keeps coming and coming...

But maybe I'm reading too much into it (?) Maybe the point of Duel is just to enjoy the ride. Enjoy the scares, the screeches the thrills and the suspense. THE SUSPENSE! This film has buckets of it. And then, as the credits roll I suggest you go "Woah, cool!" in a slightly stoned voice and immediately forget all about it. Because the alternative means thinking about a question that there's no answer to. Which could lead to you spending most of your fruitless life posting ill-thought out missives like "Maybe he's dead!", "Maybe the truck doesn't exist!", "Maybe the truck represents fear itself!", on places like IMDB and other chatrooms and blogs. And what kind of idiot does that?

FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE (1973)

This is one antiques shop you won't catch me in. I like to think I'm an honest guy, but I'd be so nervous about upsetting the proprietor that no doubt I'd accidentally knock a vase over and end up with the hounds of hell on my trail...

... because that's exactly the kind of thing that happens in this shop. Peter Cushing (for it is he) doesn't take too kindly to customers stealing, swindling or pulling a fast one with him. Thing is, it's not too hard to get something for free here, because Mr. Cushing seems intent on having his stock nicked, as he leaves cabinet doors open and disappears into the backroom when the dodgiest of customers are browsing though his nick-nacks. 'Entrapment' it would be called these days, but back in the 70's - before the advent of CCTV - such practices were no doubt fairly common and condoned by the local constabulary.

'From Beyond the Grave' comes from a golden age of British horror anthologies, where 4 or 5 spine-tingling tales would invariably contain a number of legendary actors. Here, apart from Mr. Cushing, we have the pleasure of Donald Pleasence, Diana Dors, Ian Carmichael and the wonderful David Warner to name but a few. There are 4 tales of terror dealing with elementals, mirror demons, very odd couples and dodgy doors... count them as warnings against greed and temptation if you must - but ignore them at your peril!


"You forgot your change! Oh, he's gone..."

HORROR EXPRESS (1973)

Horror Express starts with a monster-in-a-box being loaded onto a Trans-Siberian express type train, with messrs Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee taking a keen interest! With that kind of set up, surely it would have been technically impossible for this not to be a great film. And Horror Express does not disappoint.

The wonderful thing about the Cushing and Lee characters is that they’re both exactly how I’d imagine them to be in real life. Lee is very straight-laced, stern, humourless and quite ruthless whereas Cushing is slightly mischevious and playful. Both are of course, absolute gentlemen and thoroughly, utterly, British!



Sequels are obviously the spawn of Satan himself, but I would have loved to see these characters pit their wits against each other again. Perhaps on different modes of transport – train, cruise liner, zeppelin…rickshaw, the possibilities are endless.

Another great thing about Horror Express is the number of baddies to look out for. A marvellous Rasputin-like monk. The police detective who starts acting strangely. And Telly Savalas (in an extended cameo as the leader of a gang of Cossacks) who boards the train, punches Peter Cushing in the knackers and steals the show before (slight spoiler) dying.

Horror Express looks and feels like Hammer film – the inclusion of Lee and Cushing obviously helps a great deal – but it’s not, it’s actually a Spanish production, directed by Eugenio Martin, who had just finished Pancho Villa. And must have stopped Telly Savalas heading back to the U.S. somehow… anyway, it’s a classic - Cushing and Lee, mad monks, monsters in boxes, rampaging Cossacks all in a confined space…Horror Express is a one-way Super Saturday Saver ticket to horror heaven!

DRACULA A.D. 1972 (1972, obviously)

What a freaky scene, man!

A guilty pleasure this one. There's something not quite right watching Dracula commanding his minions to a freaky-jazz-funk-odyssey soundtrack. On the other hand, the final fight scene is great set to a freaky-jazz-funk-odyssey soundtrack - Baaa raa baa ba baaa! Bee doole oop ba ba ba! Bana dadla daaa! Brilliant.

Johnny Alucard is the strange young man who turns up from nowhere (and looks a bit like Jez from Peepshow)...



Anyway, he co-erces 'the kids' (most of them in their mid-to-late 20's) into a freaky resurrection scene to bring a certain vampire back.

All goes well - but when that square Van Helsing came a calling, dig it - that cat stuck it to The Man!

Or something. I must say Johnny's death was a bit of an anti-climax for me. Fair enough, he's being burnt by sunlight, but there's really no excuse to wander into the bathroom, accidentally pull the shutter to let loads more sunlight in, and then, whilst recoiling from that mishap, accidentally run yourself a bath and fall in it. That kind of thing should be on every good vampire's 'Remember Not To Do' list.

Oh and wow wasn't Stephanie Beacham's chest magnificent! But you'll have to watch the film to check it out, I'm not posting titillating pics here, what do you take me for?

But it was magnificent. You might catch a glimpse of it in the trailer above.

PIRANHA (1978)

This film gets more and more Corman-esque as it goes on. Culminating in some great lines "They're eating the guests!" It's a lot of fun, as it straddles the line between horror/horror-comedy. Kevin McCarthy appears, as do several Corman stalwarts. The story? Well, a couple of hitchikers find a disused army base with a swimming pool. get naked/get wet/ get eaten. Missing person hunter goes to find them, picks up an alcoholic whatsisname from Falcon Crest (DOESN'T he look like Charlton Heston?). Anyway, said missing person hunter commits a slight faux pas and empties a pool of mutated piranhas into the river. Making her, IMHO one of the biggest mass-murderers that we're expected to sympathise with in the history of movie making. The chase down-river ensues. Look out kids! Look out bathers at the opening gala of an Amity Island-esque resort (a lot smaller. Well, it's a lot smaller budget)! Eventually Blake saves the day... or does he? That would be telling... I'm gonna get me that poster, it's wonderful.