The Leopard Man

 

(1943) Directed by Jacques Tourneur; Written by Ardel Wray and Edward Dein; Based on the novel, Black Alibi, by Cornell Woolrich; Starring: Dennis O’Keefe, Margo, Jean Brooks, Isabell Jewell, James Bell, Margaret Landry, Abner Biberman, Tuulikki Paananen, and Ben Bard; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ****

"Time is strange. A moment can be as short as a breath or as long as eternity. Don’t linger. The gates are locked at six.” – Cemetery Gatekeeper (Brandon Hurst) 

Horror manifests itself in many forms. Is it the act itself, or the suggestion of the act that is the most horrific? As Alfred Hitchcock once observed, it’s not the gunshot but the anticipation of the gunshot that’s the most blood chilling. Jacques Tourneur understood this all too well, preferring suspense, shadows, and suggestions over explicit depictions of violence. The Leopard Man (based on the Cornell Woolrich novel Black Alibi),* his final collaboration with producer Val Lewton, was no exception. Like their previous films, Tourneur made up for any budget deficiencies with oodles of atmosphere and palpable psychological terror. 

* Fun Fact #1: When Lewton originally purchased the rights to the novel, the working title was Cat People, which he ended up using for his most famous film in 1942.

The story begins in a nightclub, where Kiki (Jean Brooks) tries to upstage fellow performer Clo-Clo (Margo) with a black leopard.* The leopard is spooked by the clicking of Clo-Clo’s castanets, fleeing the club, and into a sleepy New Mexican town. When a young girl is savagely mutilated, the leopard is believed to be the killer, despite its owner’s assertion that the wild cat wouldn’t likely attack people. Another brutal death occurs, with everyone but Kiki’s manager, Jerry Manning (Dennis O’Keefe), convinced that the leopard is the culprit. But with no concrete evidence to support his suspicions, he’s on his own to ascertain who or what the murderer is. He consults Dr. Galbraith (James Bell),** a former zoology professor who runs a museum of indigenous art, who only casts doubt on the nature of the murders. 

* Fun Fact #2: According to a 1943 Hollywood Reporter article, several extras refused to work with the leopard, named “Dynamite.” Of the 100+ extras who were called, only half accepted the job. 

** Fun Fact #3: According to film historian Constantine Nasr, RKO reportedly wanted Lon Chaney, Jr. to be cast as the enigmatic professor, but Lewton couldn’t negotiate a deal.

In a film with many tense, unsettling scenes, one of the most chilling sequences involves Teresa (Margaret Landry), a teenage girl, who’s sent out in the night to purchase corn masa for tortillas. Despite her protests over an escaped leopard stalking the streets, her mother sternly admonishes her not to return without the masa. Fearing she’s being stalked, Teresa hurries home, only to discover the front door of her house locked. We hear her desperately clawing at the door, while her mother and brother try in vain to unlock it, followed by a pool of blood collecting under the door. Tourneur reminds us it’s not what we see, but what we don’t see that’s terrifying (our mind fills in the blanks). The next victim is Consuelo (Tuulikki Paananen), a young woman visiting her father’s grave, who becomes accidentally locked inside the walls of the graveyard, inadvertently trapping her with the unseen killer. The sound of Clo-Clo’s castanets permeate the soundtrack, ratcheting up the tension. When she becomes the third victim, her castanets become the equivalent to Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” for the murderer, a constant, nagging reminder of his warped conscience. 

* Fun Fact #4: According to another Hollywood Reporter blurb, RKO and producer Lewton utilized a “fright-detector” during a sneak preview, to measure “both the quantity and intensity of audience screams, gasps and emotional reactions.”

Manning is reluctant to get involved, but his conscience gets the better of him. After he initially declines to join the sheriff’s posse searching for the leopard, he has an abrupt change of heart, deciding to start his own investigation. Despite his unshakeable exterior, he’s compelled by an overwhelming sense of guilt to discover who the real murderer is. Besides Manning, guilt plays a major hand in the lives of several characters: Teresa’s mother for sending her daughter out on the fateful night, Consuelo’s boyfriend, who failed to meet her on time, and the leopard’s owner, Charlie How-Come (Abner Biberman), who becomes convinced that he might be directly responsible for the murders.

 

The Leopard Man defies easy categorization. Is it horror? I think so. Is it noir? Absolutely. Or perhaps it belongs in the catch-all category, suspense? Of course. The film ticks many boxes, proving low budget doesn’t necessarily corollate with low thrills. Tourneur and crew employ a masterful play of light, shadow and sound to create a pervasive atmosphere of dread throughout. The poetic dialogue sets the film a notch above many of its contemporaries, transforming what could have been a simple potboiler into a thoughtful study of the darker side of human nature. Despite its solid reputation with film fans and scholars alike, The Leopard Man somehow managed to get overlooked and overshadowed by Tourneur’s other collaborations with Val Lewton (Cat People, I Walked with a Zombie, The 7^th Victim) at the time, with tepid critical reception (even Lewton and Tourneur had a low opinion of the film). As with many classics reviewed on this blog, however, time proved the film’s worth, ranking favorably among Tourneur and Lewton’s other (deservedly) vaunted works. 

 

Sources for this article: Shout Factory Blu-ray commentary by Constantine Nasr; “Extras Refuse to Work with Leopard,” The Hollywood Reporter (Tuesday, February 23, 1943); “Fright-Detector Used to Check Emotions,” The Hollywood Reporter (Friday, April 9, 1943)

Space Month III Quick Picks and Pans

 

The Terrornauts (1967) Scientists make contact with an alien outpost stationed on a nearby asteroid. Before you can say, “plot complication,” the scientists (along with a meek accountant and an outspoken lunch lady) are whisked away to the asteroid, where they’re confronted with portals to other worlds and hostile aliens. To make matters worse, they’re locked in a war between two extraterrestrial civilizations – and all this for a budget that would make Moon Zero Two look lavish by comparison. Predictably, the not-so-special effects aren’t quite up to the task. While the visuals leave something to be desired, it’s briskly paced and oddly whimsical. If you don’t think about it too much, you might just have a good time. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray and DVD (Out of print)

Vegas in Space (1991) If you crossed Flash Gordon with Priscilla: Queen of the Desert, for a budget of about $3.95, you might end up with something like this. Astronauts from Earth are sent to a faraway planet to investigate a theft. The only problem is that it’s a planet where men are forbidden, so “Presto, change-o,” the crew reverse their sex to blend in. What else are the gender bending astronauts to do but dance, dance, dance? A fever dream in taffeta and glitter, it’s without a doubt the cheapest movie on this list, but far from the worst (and certainly the most fashionable). 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD, Kanopy and Prime Video

Queen of Blood (1966) American International Pictures recruited writer/director Curtis Harrington to rework footage from the Russian sci-fi movie Battle Beyond the Sun (1959), creating an entirely new story. Unsurprisingly, the footage isn’t exactly seamless (note the prominent red star on a space rocket). John Saxon stars as astronaut Allan Brenner, who’s accompanied by fellow space traveler Paul Grant (Dennis Hopper). Brenner lands on Mars’ moon Phobos, where he finds the sole survivor from an alien spacecraft, a green-skinned woman (Florence Marly) with a taste for human blood. While far from perfect, it’s entertaining enough, despite a surprisingly pessimistic ending. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Prime Video

Wild, Wild Planet (1965) An international team investigating a series of disappearances leads to a series of clandestine experiments, funded by a giant, evil corporation (Is there any other kind?). The experiments are supervised by mad scientist Nurmi (Massimo Serato) who endeavors to create a perfect race of humans, cobbled together from body parts (if your idea of “perfection” involves bald, four-armed men in black trenchcoats and sunglasses). His actions are thwarted by a pesky space commander (Tony Russel). Filled with bad special effects, cheap-looking miniatures, and mediocre makeup, it’s more mild than wild, but it might be worth seeing for a laugh or two. 

Rating: **½. Available on DVD 

The Phantom Planet (1961) Featuring a premise that wouldn’t have been out of place in a 1930s serial, The Phantom Planet seems dated. A rescue mission is dispatched to determine the whereabouts of a previously launched rocket that suddenly vanished. Capt. Frank Chapman crash lands on an elusive asteroid, where he discovers a civilization of tiny people. He shrinks down to their size (because of the asteroid’s atmosphere – don’t ask), quickly becoming embroiled in the miniature society’s affairs (and a love triangle with two women). There isn’t much we haven’t seen before in dozens of other genre films, except for one of the goofiest looking humanoid extraterrestrials I’ve ever seen, so there’s that. 

Rating: **. Available on Blu-ray, DVD, Prime Video and Tubi 

Journey to the Seventh Planet (1962) An international team of astronauts comprised entirely of white middle-aged men travels to the planet Uranus (insert obligatory joke here), where they encounter a hostile alien presence. The alien creature clouds their minds with visions of women from their past, to manipulate their actions. The story plays like a second-rate Star Trek episode, as the crew members attempt to combat the hallucinations. Obviously done on the cheap, this Danish-American co-production features a script by director Sidney W. Pink (Reptilicus and Angry Red Planet) and Ib Melchior (The Angry Red Planet and Death Race 2000). Will the crew (including B-movie regular John Agar) find a way off the planet? Will you be able to stay awake long enough to find out? 

Rating: **. Available on DVD and Prime Video

 

 

Short Take: Galaxy of Terror

(1981) Directed by Bruce D. Clark; Written by Marc Siegler and Bruce D. Clark; Starring: Edward Albert, Erin Moran, Ray Walston, Grace Zabriskie, Zalman King, Robert Englund, and Sid Haig; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***

“…I came up with the idea of the monster, but each monster would be a different monster for each member of the cast and would be a monster coming out of their unconscious. This is part of certain Freudian theories I had.” – Roger Corman

“You’re trying to do a science fiction remote planet set on the budget of a cheese commercial. What more of a challenge do you want?” – Bruce D. Clark

After the box-office success of Alien (1979), it seemed as if everyone and their cousin wanted to duplicate that movie’s formula, combining sci-fi thrills and horror chills, but for a fraction of the cost (Saturn 3, Creature, Parasite, and on and on…). It was only a matter of time before Roger Corman and New World Pictures would try to get a piece of the peril-in-space pie. Following his Star Wars rip- (ahem) inspired Battle Beyond the Stars (1980)), Corman brought us Galaxy of Terror.*

* Fun Fact #1: Before it was known as Galaxy of Terror, the movie went through several titles: Planet of Horrors (pre-production), Quest (working title, suggested by production assistant David De Coteau), and was released in the American south as Mindwarp: An Infinity of Terror.

Stop me if this sounds familiar (on second thought, read on): At the behest of a shadowy leader known only as “The Master,” (think the Weyland Yutani Corporation in Alien) the spaceship Quest, crewed by a ragtag bunch of misfits is dispatched to an alien world to respond to a distress call. What they find there are their worst nightmares. Instead of an acid-spewing xenomorph, however, some unseen force is turning people’s worst fears against themselves. Much like Ridley Scott’s film, the crew members are picked off one by one. 

The cast is eclectic enough to keep things interesting, despite the underdeveloped characters. Zalman King is suitably intense as trigger-happy Baelon, who has an unspecified feud with fellow crew member Cabren (Edward Albert). Grace Zabriskie (who would later gain fame as Laura Palmer’s bereaved mother Sarah in Twin Peaks), sporting fake gray hair, is the grizzled Captain Trantor. Ray Walston is the enigmatic ship’s cook, Kore (considering the tech that would go into an interstellar craft, would there even be a need for a chef?). A pre-Nightmare on Elm Street Robert Englund appears as Ranger, a man whose worst enemy is himself. laconic Quuhod (Sid Haig), armed only with his crystal throwing stars, proclaims that he lives and dies by them (guess what does him in?).  

 

For all its derivative elements, Galaxy of Terror provides some innovative aspects as well. It looks like a more expensive production, thanks to inventive effects by a young James Cameron (who served as second unit director and production designer), Allan Apone (makeup effects),* and Dennis and Robert Skotak (who would collaborate with Cameron on several of his future projects). One of the standout pieces is a mysterious pyramid, made to look gargantuan through in-camera effects. The various gore effects are effectively stomach-turning.** Undoubtedly the most memorable effect (and the film’s dubious claim to fame), however, graces the silver screen when Quest crew member Dameia (Taaffe O'Connell) is sexually assaulted by a giant space maggot *** (shot in part by second unit director, James Cameron). 

* Fun Fact #2: Sergeant Apone in Aliens (1986) was named after the effects master, who worked with James Cameron on Galaxy of Terror. 

** Fun Fact #3 (SPOILER ALERT): For Erin Moran’s exploding head scene, the effects team used a gelatin head filled with Dinty Moore stew. 

*** Fun Fact #4: The one-ton space maggot served as a proof-of-concept for the xenomorph queen in Aliens (1986), which employed a similar rig: a giant puppet suspended by a crane.

Besides being a dress rehearsal for Cameron and his effects team (who would go on to bigger and better things), Galaxy of Terror is a reminder that cheap knock-offs can be fun too. Although it might not win any awards for originality, it helped launch the careers of several talented individuals in front of and behind the camera.* If you’re in the mood for something that’s more Corman than Criterion, it’s a decent cure for the late-night doldrums.    

* Fun Fact #5: In addition to the professionals cited above, Galaxy of Terror boasts a pre-acting-career Bill Paxton (carpenter).

 

Sources: Shout Factory DVD commentary by Taafe O’Connell, Alec Gillis, Allan Apone and David DeCoteau; “Tales from the Lumber Yard: The Making of Galaxy of Terror” (2010)

 

 

Planet of the Vampires

(1965) Directed by Mario Bava; Written by Ib Melchior, Alberto Bevilacqua, Callisto Cosulich, Mario Bava, Antonio Roman, Rafael J. Salvia, and Louis M. Heyward (English version); Screen Story by Ib Melchior Based on the short story “One Night of 21 Hours”: by Renato Pestriniero; Starring: Barry Sullivan, Norma Bengell, Ángel Aranda, Evi Marandi, Franco Andrei and Federico Boiso; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***½

“Do you know what that mysterious planet in Terrore nello Spazio was made of? … A couple of plastic rocks – and I mean ‘two’: one and one! – that were left over from some mythological picture made at Cinecittà. To assist the illusion, I had to fill the set with fog!” – Mario Bava 

“I'll tell you this, if there are any intelligent creatures on this planet... they're our enemies.” – Captain Mark Markary (Barry Sullivan)

Mario Bava had a knack for making low-budget movies look much more expensive than they really were. Undoubtedly, his prior experience as a cinematographer informed his directorial decisions, regarding the film’s appearance with a critical eye. Planet of the Vampires (aka: Terrore nello Spazio), a co-production with American International Films, is no exception, with imagery that could have been in a multi-million-dollar Hollywood production, instead of a movie made for a scant $200,000. Reflecting the international flavor of the production, Planet of the Vampires* boasted an international cast, including American actor Barry Sullivan,** his Brazilian co-star Norma Bengell, Spanish actor Ángel Aranda, and a host of Italian performers. The title (imposed by American International) is a misnomer, since there are no vampires in the film. As many have pointed out, a more accurate title would have been Planet of the Zombies, although in all fairness, either title indicates the sci-fi/horror hybrid that we’re about to see. 

* Fun Fact #1: Before it was known as Planet of the Vampires (or its Italian moniker, Terrore nello Spazio), the film’s title went through multiple iterations, including: Planet of Terror, The Shadow World (Bava’s preferred title), The Haunted World, The Outlaw Planet, The Warlords of the Outlaw Planet, and The Warlords of Planet 7. 

** Fun Fact #2: Mario Bava was reportedly unhappy with AIP’s insistence on casting 53-year-old Barry Sullivan, whom he considered too old for the lead role.

Two spaceships, the Argos and Galliot, answer a distress call from an alien planet. After Captain Markary (Barry Sullivan) loses contact with the Galliot, he and his crew land on the fog-shrouded planet.* But from the moment Markary and his team touch down on the barren, mist-covered wasteland, there seems to be a malevolent intelligence guiding their actions, prompting fear, anger and belligerence between the astronauts. The crew members manage to rein in their impulses long enough to investigate the condition of the Galliot and its occupants, only to discover that their counterparts are dead, including Markary’s brother. The corpses are buried, but to Argos crew’s horror they begin to reanimate, propelled by an unseen force. Before too long, the Argos crew begin to experience the fate of their sister ship, with confusion, violence, and death. Looking for answers, Markary launches an investigation of a nearby ancient alien spacecraft. They explore the derelict spaceship, discovering its fossilized pilot within, along with a voice recording from countless centuries ago.** Markary soon learns about the invisible alien intelligence that first lured the abandoned ship, along with the Gallion – a dying race known as the Aurans. Living on a different plane of existence, they embed their consciousness in the living or dead. Led by Markary, the dwindling crew of the Argos attempt to fend off their zombie comrades and Aurans long enough to escape the planet. 

* Fun Fact #3: The landing scene was shot in an aquarium filled with water. Colored chemicals were added to the water to simulate dust clouds. 

** Fun Fact #4: Bava and crew cobbled together many of the set pieces from found objects. One piece of “alien” equipment in the derelict spacecraft was the taillight from a 1956 Clipper (Packard). 

Over the ensuing decades, there’s been debate ad nauseam about how Planet of the Vampires inspired Alien,* but little agreement about how much was lifted from the original film. After years of dancing around the subject, Alien scribe Dan O’Bannon later confessed that the derelict spacecraft and its skeletal pilot provided the idea for the latter film’s “space jockey” sequence. Director Ridley Scott, on the other hand, adamantly denied he ever saw Bava’s film. Whatever extent was copied or who allegedly saw what, it’s safe to say that Planet of the Vampires’ DNA is in Alien. But that doesn’t necessarily imply that Alien is a “rip-off,” if we look at the history of movies (especially genre films) as a continuum, consciously and unconsciously recycling specific themes and imagery. Both Planet of the Vampires and Alien differ significantly enough in most respects to ensure that seeing one doesn’t guarantee you’ve already watched the other. 

* Fun Fact #5: While there’s much open to debate, there is one indisputable link between the two films. The 20-inch model ship (used for both Argos and Galliot) was fabricated for the shoot by effects maestro Carlo Rambaldi, also responsible for constructing the xenomorph for Alien (1979). 

Although few would attest that Planet of the Vampires is a paragon of performances, plotting, or story, few would deny it’s a great looking film. The costume design for the Argos crew is particularly memorable, with their black, high-collared uniforms that exude a cold, authoritarian appearance. The spacecraft are filled with cavernous gothic spaces – impractical where room would be at a premium, but effective from an artistic standpoint (if you think of the Argos and Galliot as flying castles, not scientifically accurate spaceship designs). Likewise, the surface of the planet takes on an unworldly aura, with its tentacle-shaped rock formations on the surface of the planet appear to have been alive at one time. The pervasive unsettling atmosphere running throughout the film reaches its apex in a scene when the reanimated corpses of several crew members rise from their graves, covered in ghostly plastic shrouds. 

The restored print is lovely to behold, with its saturated colors and noirish shadows (red and green gels create an eerie, atmospheric look). It’s easy to appreciate Mario Bava’s eye for aesthetics and endless ingenuity, making Planet of the Vampires look like an expensive production, despite using mostly in-camera effects. It’s unfortunate that the same attention wasn’t applied to other aspects of the production. Considering the number of screenwriters associated with the movie, the film is noticeably thin in the characterization and dialogue. Characters exist to move the plot along, but accomplish little else, with few standouts in the performances. Barry Sullivan looks suitably authoritative as the commander, however, and co-star Norma Bengell manages to bring glamour and gravitas to her somewhat underwritten role. Ultimately, I admire the film more than love it, but in the same breath can’t deny its impact on the genre. Faults be damned, it just looks cool, and few have done it as well as Mario Bava. Planet of the Vampires is a master class on doing more with less, and one of the most notable Italian sci-fi films of all time. 

 

Sources for this article: Radiance Blu-ray commentary by Tim Lucas; “Mario Bava’s Chthulucene - Terrore nello Spazio (Planet of the Vampires) from H.P. Lovecraft to Donna Haraway,” by Alessandro Brunazzo, Science Fiction Film and Television (Volume 16, Issues1-2, 2023)

 

 

In the Dust of the Stars

 

(1976) Directed by Gottfried Kolditz; Written by Joachim Hellwig and Gottfried Kolditz; Starring: Jana Brejchová, Alfred Struwe, Ekkehard Schall, Milan Beli, Silvia Popovici, Violeta Andrei and Leon Niemczyk; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ***½

Akala (Jana Brejchová): “Our first law asks that no human may oppress another.”

Chief (Ekkehard Schall): “A nice thought. But the Turi have no culture. You see, by the time you are on your way home, the Turi will believe they were dreaming. Gods descended from heaven, they were friendly, and then they disappeared. They will likely pray to these gods. Their modest lives may become a little brighter. Nothing More. But that is a great deal.”

East Germany’s state-owned DEFA studios produced films in a wide variety of genres, including fantasies, westerns (no, really!), dramas, and a handful of science fiction movies. Their best-known production was probably the lavish (at least by East German standards) The Silent Star (aka: First Spaceship on Venus) (1960), which provided a visually impressive, albeit sterile vision of the future. Towards the tail end of DEFA’s small cycle of sci-fi movies was In the Dust of the Stars (aka: Im Staub der Sterne),*/** directed by Gottfried Kolditz (best known for his East German westerns). The 1976 East German/Romanian co-production begins conventionally enough, before veering off the rails, creating an experience unlike anything that preceded it. 

* Fun Fact #1: In the Dust of the Stars was the end-product of the DEFA Futurum group, an organization dedicated to creating films that were accessible to a wide audience, envisioning a positive future. Only two feature films (neither of which were well-received by critics at the time) were produced under DEFA Futurum: In the Dust of the Stars (1976) and the fountain-of-youth-themed Das Ding im Schloss (1979). 

** Fun Fact #2: Although not considered a success at the time, In the Dust of the Stars drew 800,000 East German filmgoers in the first 13 weeks.

A team of cosmonauts from the planet Cynro respond to a distress signal from the planet Tem-4, nearly crashing their spacecraft in the process. They meet with Ronk (Milan Beli) a representative of Tem-4,* who informs them that the signal was a mistake. While Captain Akala (played by Czech actress Jana Brejchová)** accepts an invitation to a party in their honor, her second in command (and love interest), Suko (Alfred Struwe), stays behind to test his doubts about the Temians’ sincerity. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew enjoy the wild celebration, including scantily clad dancers, drugs in aerosol spray cans, large snakes, and a feast fit for royalty. Suko determines that the party was an attempt by the Temians to divert the crew from the grim reality of the situation on Tem-4. The Temians are not the original inhabitants of the planet, but the peaceful Turi (who covertly initiated the distress call), have been enslaved to mine raw materials.*** Akala and her crew are faced with a dilemma: intervene between the Temians and Turi, or return to Cynro without taking action. 

* Fun Fact #3: Much of the film was shot on location in the otherworldly region of Pâclele Mari, Romania – home of the Berca mud volcanoes. 

** Fun Fact #4: Jana Brejchová was once married to the famous Czech director Miloš Forman.

*** Fun Fact #5: The Slănic salt mine stood in for the underground quarry where the Turi labored.

Most of the characters are not fully fleshed out, but archetypes to illustrate their differing ideologies. Captain Akala is conflicted about the correct path forward, doubting herself and their mission. Suko, harbors a healthy dose of skepticism about the Temians, Crew member Miu (Regine Heintze), who does an impromptu erotic dance (tastefully depicted in shadow), sides with the rest of the crew, seemingly content to enjoy herself and remain neutral about the Temian situation.

If you think the characters are too vanilla (minus Miu’s dance, of course), hold onto your hats, because you won’t be prepared for the Chief, played with zeal by noted East German stage actor, Ekkehard Schall.* The flamboyant Chief (who makes James Bond’s most memorable foes seem humdrum by comparison) represents a vision of capitalist decadence, enjoying the fruits of the Turi’s labors. In contrast to the enslaved race, he indulges in a hedonistic lifestyle with disco-punk aesthetics, sporting alternating hair colors to mirror his capricious moods and wearing costumes that would make Elton John jealous (I wish an entire movie had been dedicated to him and his wacky exploits). When he’s not barking orders to his lackey Ronk, he orchestrates extravagant music and dance displays** with his electronic console.   

* Fun Fact #6: Schall was married to Barbara Berg, daughter of noted playwright Bertolt Brecht.

** Fun Fact #7: The film’s standout outdoor dance scene was filmed at Romania’s Măgura Sculpture Camp.

It’s unfortunate that In the Dust of the Stars concludes on a less-than-satisfying note, raising more questions than answers: Did the workers start a successful revolt? What will happen with Akala, who stays behind on Tem-4? Will the remaining crew return with military reinforcements from Cynro? Don’t bother looking for answers, since no sequel ever materialized. Ultimately, the film’s parts are better than the sum: notably, Ekkehard Schall’s over-the-top performance, eccentric costume designs, and spirited dance sequences. Despite (or maybe because of) its initial critical and box office underperformance, In the Dust of the Stars should have been the perfect candidate to become a cult movie, running the midnight movie circuit. While it has yet to make much of an impact on audiences, it’s never too late to discover this amusing curio from a bygone era. 

 

Sources for this article: Blu-ray commentary by Rolland Man (presented by David Melville Wingrove); DEFA at the Crossroads of East German and International Film Culture, Edited by Marc Silberman and Henning Wrage; “East Germany's Werkstatt Zukunft: Futurology and the Science Fiction Films of defa-futurum,” by Sonja Fritzsche, German Studies Review (May, 2006, Vol. 29, No. 2)

 

 

Viva Mexico Month II Quick Picks and Pans

 

Rapiña (1975) Porfirio (Ignacio López Tarso), a poor woodcutter, witnesses an airplane crash in the mountains near his home. He picks through the bodies and wreckage for valuables, hording his collection in a nearby cave. He brings his brother-in-law, Evodio (Germán Robles), to the crash site, to gather more of the dead’s belongings before the authorities arrive. Porfirio’s lofty ambitions for his family quickly erode into madness, as his greed gives into paranoia and eventually murder. Much like his brilliant later film, Poison for the Fairies (1982), writer/director Carlos Enrique Taboada has constructed another insightful, mesmerizing study of the worst aspects of human nature. 

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray (included in the Vinegar Syndrome box set, Mexican Gothic: The Films of Carlos Enrique Taboada) and DVD (Out of print)

Museo (2018) In this fictionalized account of a real-life incident, two bored 20-something ne’er-do-wells, Juan and Benjamin (Gael García Bernal and Leonardo Ortizgris, respectively) perpetrate a heist of several priceless artifacts from the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City. The initial thrill turns into desperation as they unsuccessfully attempt to sell the hot items, while evading a nationwide manhunt. Beyond the ingenuity of the initial heist, it becomes clear that they’re completely out of their depth. Director/co-writer Alonso Ruizpalacios focuses on the dynamic between the two young men, with Juan as the dominant mastermind and Benjamin as his reluctant accomplice. This compelling character study is much less interested in trying to answer why they did what they did, choosing instead to explore the ramifications of one bad decision after another.   

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Scherzo Diabolico (2015) Aram (Francisco Barreiro), a meek accountant, is tired of being a doormat for his dead-end job and estranged wife. One day, he succumbs to the pressures of his unfulfilling life, hatching a scheme to get even with his boss. He kidnaps the boss’s teenage daughter, setting a chain of strange events in motion. As his boss’s life crumbles, Aram’s fortunes improve, with a promotion (his boss’ old position), a bigger salary and a fling with his secretary. But hell hath no fury like a captive teenage girl, who unleashes her revenge against him and his family. What begins as a pitch-dark comedy gradually devolves into a blood-soaked horror thriller. Depending on your tastes, the visceral third act will either suck you in or turn you off. Tread carefully.   

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray (Region B), DVD and Tubi

Shadow of the Pepper Tree (aka: Wild Blue Moon) (1992) Co-writer/directors Francesca Fisher and Taggart Siegel present a cautionary tale, set in rural Mexico, circa 1968. Luna (Mayra Serbulo) the daughter of a powerful village witch (Socorro Avelar) sets out on her own when her mother refuses to instruct her on the ways of magic. She establishes her own practice and falls in love with an ex-patriot American artist (Thom Vernon). He abandons her when he learns she’s pregnant, becoming involved with a dancer in town. She plots her revenge against him and everyone else in his circle, but as she soon learns, evoking black magic comes with serious consequences. Mayra Serbulo impresses in her nuanced performance as a young woman whose ambitions exceed her grasp of the power she wields. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Tubi

The Bat Woman (1968) Gloria (Maura Monti) is a wealthy socialite who moonlights as the masked luchador/crime fighter Bat Woman. She battles her archenemy Dr. Williams (Roberto Cañedo), a mad scientist who wishes to create an army of unstoppable fishmen.  I have no idea how this got made, considering the obvious parallels to the Batman series, but I’m sort of glad it exists (her skimpy outfit clearly mimics the costumes worn by her American counterpart, albeit with about 70 percent less material). Despite the obvious copyright infringement, it’s harmless, silly fun.

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray 

Night of 1,000 Cats (1972) René Cardona Jr’s horror thriller plays like a twist on Bluebeard and The Most Dangerous Game, with a Euro-horror flair. Hugo Stiglitz stars as Hugo, a millionaire playboy with a disturbing hobby. He seduces young women, luring them to his sprawling estate and killing them, so he can keep their heads as trophies. The leftover bits are fed to the titular cats that he keeps locked up in a pit (I think you can see where this is going). It’s predictable and not terribly original, but worth a look for the audacious plot and Stiglitz’s deranged performance.   

Rating: ***. Available on DVD and Tubi

Halley (2012) Alberto (Alberto Trujillo) suffers from an unspecified degenerative disease that’s causing his body to decompose. He works as a security guard at a gym, where his sickly, emaciated form contrasts sharply with the health-minded people working out. His boss (Luly Trueba) takes an interest in him, vainly trying to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. The film moves at a deliberate pace, which seems to match Alberto’s slow movement. It’s a painful portrait of a man incapable of enjoyment, which doesn’t spare us the sordid details of his condition. While difficult to watch, it features an excellent, fearless performance by Trujillo (He was so convincing, I had to check online to see if he’s all right. Don’t worry, he’s okay.). It’s not a film I would readily recommend, unless you’re a connoisseur of misery. 

Rating: ***. Available on Tubi

Don’t Panic (1987) Here’s another head-scratcher from writer/director Rubén Galindo Jr. the same director who brought us the bonkers Cemetery of Terror (1985).* Michael (Jon Michael Bischof) is an ordinary high school student whose birthday party goes wrong in a hurry. Some friends bring out a Ouija board, summoning demonic forces. One of his classmates embarks on a killing rampage, while Michael sees visions of the murders (his eyes glow red). No one believes him, as he runs around in dinosaur pajamas, screaming like a banshee. None of this makes much sense, but it’s entertaining throughout. There’s always something to doubt your sanity over, including the bizarre twist ending that might just make your head explode. 

* Fun Fact: If you haven’t seen Cemetery of Terror, don’t worry, the filmmaker manages to throw in some scenes from his previous movie. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray

Cronos

 

(1993) Written and directed by Guillermo del Toro; Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Claudio Brook, Margarita Isabel and Tamara Xanath; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ****

 

“The first movie articulates your universe. To me, Cronos contains the essence of what I want to do. I always was interested in the stories of familiar relationships that are either decomposing or decomposed. Even in the short, “Geometria,” [an early film school project] that’s there – the idea that the family either implodes or destroys itself, or finds union in the imperfections. It’s in every movie I do. Every one. Even the most commercial ones.” – Guillermo del Toro (from 2010 interview)

“When filming Cronos, his first big movie, Guillermo was very humble about the responsibility he was charged with. And being somebody who has a true passion and reverence for the medium, he put a lot of pressure on himself. But once he started filming, it seemed like he had been doing it his whole life. The minute I saw the imagery, I knew I was dealing with somebody in the same class as Luis Buñuel and François Truffaut.” – Ron Perman (excerpted from his essay, “Resurrection,” Guillermo del Toro – Cabinet of Curiosities)

If vampire-themed literature and films have taught us anything, the path to immortality comes at a terrible cost. The selfish pursuit of abnormally extended life is often fraught with disastrous results, at the expense of the innocent, and the forfeiture of our humanity. Sadly, in recent years, the concept of vampirism seems to have shifted from fantasy to reality among the ultra-wealthy. Filmmaker Guillermo del Toro’s debut feature film, Cronos, explores the pitfalls of such a perilous and ultimately hollow pursuit. It’s an innovative take on vampire lore, in which the word “vampire” is never used.* 

* Fun Fact #1: This was an intentional omission on the writer/director’s part, who felt that audiences already knew enough about vampires to deduce what the main character became. 

In the film’s prologue, we learn about the origin of the Cronos device, created by a 16^th century alchemist who fled to Mexico to escape the Spanish Inquisition. Skip to present-day Mexico City, where Jesus Gris (Federico Luppi), an elderly shopkeeper, runs an antique store. He uncovers the artifact hidden inside the base of an archangel statuette and inadvertently activates it. The gold clockwork device, resembling a giant scarab, latches onto his hand, drawing a copious amount of blood (an interior view of the mechanism reveals a series of gears and an insect trapped within). */**/*** Angel (Ron Perlman), an American living in Mexico, purchases the statuette unaware that it’s now missing the coveted device. He brings it back to his ailing industrialist uncle, de la Guardia (Claudio Brook), who’s less than elated with the absence of the artifact. The enraged de la Guardia sends his nephew back to the shop to retrieve the Cronos device.  Meanwhile, Jesus finds his body changing. Despite his initial reluctance, he’s drawn to the device – the more he uses it, the younger his appearance. But there’s a price for employing the Cronos device, a craving for blood. At his uncle’s urging, Angel will stop at nothing to retrieve the ancient alchemist’s creation, including badgering, intimidation and physical violence. But death doesn’t come so easily for someone under the influence of the Cronos device. 

* Fun Fact #2: According to del Toro, the idea for the Cronos device originated from a curious fad in 1960s/1970s Mexico, in which shiny metallic beetles were encapsulated and worn as living jewelry. 

** Fun Fact #3: The film’s producers wouldn’t approve additional funds to depict the device’s inner workings, so del Toro sold his van for money to create the VW Beetle-sized interior replica, using gears from a 19^th century textile machine painted gold, and cow innards for the insect. 

*** Fun Fact #4: 13 gold-plated devices were created for the movie, with working mechanisms created by del Toro’s father-in-law. Sadly, all the originals were stolen.

Federico Luppi (who would later appear in del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone) portrays a painfully believable and sympathetic lead – a kindly old man who falls into a situation far beyond his reckoning. There’s something profoundly unsettling about the device, but he uses it anyway. The promise of turning back the clock is far too enticing, becoming an addiction he can’t shake. As de la Guardia smugly points out to Jesus, there are rules (but what those rules precisely are, remain unknown). When he revives from what should have been a fatal car accident, he experiences an existential crisis, grappling with what he’s become.* There’s a refreshing tenderness to Jesus’ relationship with his granddaughter, Aurora (Tamara Xanath).**/*** When he returns from the dead, the first person he returns to is Aurora. She appears unfazed by his pallid, zombie-like appearance (somewhat resembling Christopher Lee’s creature in Curse of Frankenstein). Unlike countless other horror films, she doesn’t recoil in fear, but feels elation in seeing her grandfather again. She does what she can to make him comfortable in his compromised state,**** never once regarding him as a monster. There is something oddly endearing about how she prepares her toybox as a makeshift coffin for her beloved grandpa. 

* Fun Fact #5: The scene where Jesus reads his own obituary was based on an incident from del Toro when he was 21, in which he read an obituary in the paper for someone with the same name. 

** Fun Fact #6: Del Toro modeled the grandfather/granddaughter relationship off his own relationship with his grandmother. As indicated in the end credits, the film is dedicated to his grandmother, Josefina Camberos. 

*** Fun Fact #7: In a nod to Night of the Hunter (in which stolen money was concealed inside a little girl’s doll) Aurora hides the Cronos device in her treasured stuffed toy, a teddy bear. 

**** Fun Fact #8: The sequence where Jesus reaches inside a gash in his belly parallels a similar scene in David Cronenberg’s Videodrome.

Del Toro referred to his villains in Cronos as “capitalist vampires.”* There’s never any doubt about who the real monsters of the story are. De la Guardia feeds off the less economically fortunate, while Angel can’t wait for him to die, so he can inherit his uncle’s vast wealth. As described by del Toro, de la Guardia is literally a “hollow man.” De la Guardia lives in a sterile chamber, surrounded by life support equipment, with his diseased organs preserved in jars.** Vampirism is a fitting metaphor for a man who lives in a state worse than death but paradoxically desires more life. Besides being del Toro’s first film, Cronos also marks the filmmaker’s first collaboration with Ron Perlman. As de la Guardia’s nephew/henchman, Perlman delivers a nuanced, idiosyncratic performance, making his character surprisingly sympathetic. We feel bad for him, enduring constant abuse from his hateful, unscrupulous uncle. Fun little quirks make him more than a mere stereotype (Angel wants to get a nose job, but can’t quite decide on the right nose). We don’t want him to succeed, but we can’t help feeling a little sorry for him at the same time.   

* Fun Fact #9: Del Toro purposely depicted them as somewhat cartoonish as payback for Hollywood’s often less-than-flattering portrayal of Mexican characters. 

** Fun Fact #10: In his commentary, del Toro revealed that he based the character of de la Guardia on a real-life case of a recluse who lived in Jalisco, Mexico. After the untimely death of his wife, the man accumulated jars of his nails, hair and various excretions over the course of 45 years.

Despite being an early piece of work, Cronos exhibits all the hallmarks that we have come to associate with a del Toro film, incorporating Catholic imagery and concepts, deliberate color schemes, shrouded antiquities, clockwork devices, and a wealthy antagonist with a warped sense of morality. A common thread throughout his work, clearly articulated here, is that people in positions of unchecked power often possess an elevated sense of importance and invulnerability which ultimately becomes their undoing. There’s a lovely attention to detail in the visuals and story in this multi-layered film, which rewards upon repeated viewings. Like the eponymous device, everything is more than it seems. Guillermo del Toro’s penchant for artistry and innovation with a meager $2 million budget (not a small sum for a Mexican independent film) would set the stage for bigger projects with loftier budgets, but one doesn’t need to look any further than Cronos to appreciate the depth of his talent. 

 

Sources for this article: Criterion Blu-ray commentary by Guillermo del Toro; Cabinet of Curiosities, by Guillermo del Toro and Marc Scott Zicree; 2010 Interview with Guillermo del Toro (Criterion Blu-ray)