Meet the Feebles

(1989) Directed by Peter Jackson; Written by: Fran Walsh, Stephen Sinclair, Danny Mulheron, and Peter Jackson; Starring: Danny Mulheron, Donna Akersten, Stuart Devenie Mark Hadlow and Ross Jolly. Available on DVD.

Rating: ***½

Note: Back in 2018, Peter Jackson announced that he was supervising the 4K transfers of his early works, including Meet the Feebles. Sadly, we have yet to enjoy the fruits of his labor in UHD (as nature intended) or HD. As a result, I hope you’ll excuse the shoddy quality of the screenshots below, taken from a (presumably) gray market DVD.     

“If we’re satirizing anything it’s the squeamishness of people, breaking taboos – but just for fun. Using puppets allowed us to do a lot of things I never would have tried with humans, we got away with murder, and made a lot of people blind to the film’s subversivness. But some found it sacrilegious to make an adult puppet film with sex and splatter violence.” – Peter Jackson (excerpt from 1992 Film Threat interview)

“I had a phone call recently from a couple of people in Los Angeles who had seen the film the night before and they were talking about the fly: ‘We were just assuming it was some really nice blue-screen work and motion control,’ and I said, ‘No, we just dragged it on the end of a piece of string.”’ – Peter Jackson (excerpt from 1990 interview)

If you ever watched The Muppet Show and wondered why it didn’t have more sex, scatological humor, and general nastiness, my first question would be, what’s wrong with you? On second thought, I might have exactly what you’re seeking. How do you follow up a debut called Bad Taste (1987), which suitably lived up to its title? With something even more objectionable, of course. Director/co-writer/camera operator Peter Jackson’s sophomore effort, Meet the Feebles*/** was promoted with the tagline: “The adult puppet movie with something to offend everybody!” In this case, it’s not an idle boast, featuring every imaginable form of effluvia (Yes, even THAT) leaking from every orifice for your stomach-turning pleasure. Filmed over 12 weeks for an estimated $750,000 (NZD),*** Jackson and crew used an abandoned railway shed in Wellington as their base of operations. When production went over-budget and over-schedule, the crew were pressed to complete the film with deferred salaries. 

* Fun Fact #1: Meet the Feebles wasn’t originally intended to be a feature film, but a 30-minute (or 20-minute according to another article) short for a proposed New Zealand television show, Uncle Herman’s Bedtime Whoppers. 

** Fun Fact #2: Meet the Feebles marks the first of many collaborations with Jackson’s longtime creative and life partner, Fran Walsh (who met Jackson during a screening of Bad Taste). 

*** Fun Fact #3: Although partially funded by a Japanese distribution company, it was mostly paid for with money from the New Zealand Film Commission. When the Commission reviewed a copy of the script, they subsequently pulled funding for Jackson’s movie (which they later reconsidered).

Meet the Feebles chronicles a day in the life of a troupe of performers in a variety show, leading up to their big TV debut. As with all good backstage dramas, it provides a warts-and-all peek behind the curtains, with a collection of scandals that would make Kenneth Anger blush. The show’s producer, an unscrupulous walrus named Bletch, has his fingers in several pies, including cheating on his slightly over-the-hill girlfriend Heidi the Hippo with a petite feline ingenue, while running a drug ring on the side. He’s accompanied by his sleazy henchman/enforcer Trevor (a rat who sounds like Peter Lorre), who has a side-business of his own, making porn and snuff films. Meanwhile, star performer Harry the Hare has contracted a deadly STD (aka: “The Big One”),* with his doctor (appropriately named Dr. Quack) informing him he only has several hours left to live. Add to the mix Sid the Elephant, who’s slapped with a paternity lawsuit by his chicken ex-girlfriend (Guess what the baby looks like?). Basking in the glow of all these trespasses and tragedies is a muckraker journalist fly,** gleefully compiling material for his tabloid. The only character in this frenzied, backstabbing soap opera who appears to be innocent of any wrongdoing is naïve young performer, Robert the Hedgehog,*** who serves as our guide to the ensuing insanity. 

* Fun Fact #4: According to a couple of articles, Harry is suffering from an acute form of myxomatosis, a potentially fatal disease that affects rabbits. 

** Fun Fact #5: According to Jackson, “The way I try to deflate that scene with humour is that he’s eating the shit with a nice silver spoon and he has this really funny line of dialogue. Ninety-nine per cent of people won’t hear that line because they’ll be far too busy freaking out.” 

*** Fun Fact #6: The Robert puppet required up to five operators for body movement as well as facial expressions.

Although Jackson insisted none of the puppets were intended to be direct parodies of specific Muppets (something he probably said to keep Jim Henson’s lawyers appeased), it’s impossible not to see the multiple parallels in the chaotic behind-the-scenes drama. Heidi the Hippo is analogous to Miss Piggy, down to her flair for diva antics. The knife-throwing Wynard the Frog, a chronic PTSD sufferer and heroin addict, seems to be an amalgamation of Muppets Signor Baffi and Lew Zealand (we learn more about his traumatic past, with a flashback parody of The Deer Hunter, containing some ill-advised Asian stereotype rodents). Another famous Muppet makes a stealth appearance when Harry the Hare (hoping to make it through the night’s performance) prays to a frog on a cross. Another unmistakable nod to The Muppet Show are the film’s various musical numbers, including the jaunty title track, Heidi’s schmaltzy “Garden of Love,” and Blech’s stage director Sebastian’s would be show-stopper, “Sodomy” (Did I mention this film is anything but subtle?).

It’s hard to believe that the road to Jackson’s runaway commercial success with the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit franchises was paved with such early works as Meet the Feebles, when a “try anything” approach ruled the day (and try anything, he did). If Jackson had never experimented with throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, it’s questionable that he would have adequately refined his filmmaking skills. Given the time, resources and budget, it’s a minor miracle that Jackson and company were able to create such an impressive array of Mup- (Ahem!) Feebles. As strange as it may seem, the film’s numerous creations* were a dress rehearsal for the many wondrous Wētā Workshop** creatures and effects that would follow. Compared to his considerably more polished later films, Meet the Feebles is crude, tasteless, and scattershot. It’s also quite funny, forcing audiences to laugh despite their better nature. We may never see anything like it again, which is, perhaps, at once a shame and a relief. 

* Fun Fact #7: Cameron Chittock led the construction of various puppets, ranging in size from tiny fly puppet to the appropriately named whale Mr. Big, which was approximately 20 feet long. 

** Fun Fact #8: Future Wētā Workshop founders Richard Taylor and Tania Rodger cut their teeth on the film’s production, as model maker and puppet coordinator/maker, respectively. 

 

Sources for this article: “Spluppet on a Shoestring,” by Steve Menzies, Onfilm (1989); “Jackson’s Movies: Meet the Feebles,” Film Review Special. 2005, Issue 60, p50-51; “Just the Feebles,” by Sheldon Teitelbaum, Cinefantastique, 1990, volume 20; Braindead: An Interview with Peter Jackson,” by David E. Williams, Film Threat (February 17, 1992); “Meet Your Creature Feature,” by Ian Prior, Illusions (Issue 13, 1990); “Braindead: An Interview with Peter Jackson,” by David E. Williams, Film Threat (February 17, 1992); “Sex, Drugs and Soft Toys,” TVNZ (1989) 

Blue Sunshine

 

(1977) Written and directed by Jeff Lieberman; Starring: Zalman King, Deborah Winters, Mark Goddard, Robert Walden, Wendy Flemming and Ray Young; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***½

“Millions of my generation had experimented with LSD during the late 60s into the 70s. Deep down they all must harbor a fear there could be some validity to the detrimental long-term effects of the mysterious drug. Why not tap into that universal fear the way Hollywood tapped into our generation’s fear of the atomic bomb back in the fifties? What if there was a particular strain of LSD that altered our chromosomes the way they claimed radiation did?” – Jeff Lieberman (from Day of the Living Me)

“There’s a bald maniac in there, and he’s gone batshit!” –  Man fleeing discotheque (Unknown)

Once in a great while, a movie comes along that baffles all expectations. Blue Sunshine is such a film. Writer/director Jeff Lieberman’s follow-up to Squirm (1976) drew upon the paranoia and misinformation surrounding the anti-drug efforts of the ‘70s. The so-called “War on Drugs” and its accompanying propaganda campaign preached about the supposed deleterious effects from various illegal substances, even with one use. But what if the anti-drug campaigns were right all along?  

From the movie’s opening party scene, you know you’re in for a wild ride. Brilliant but directionless drifter Jerry Zipkin (Zalman King) watches his friend Frannie Scott (Played by Billy Crystal’s older brother, Richard) goof off,* doing his best Sinatra imitation. But in an instant, things go horribly wrong, resulting in the brutal killing of a woman at the party, as well as Frannie’s death. Zipkin, now implicated in the murders, is on the run, and has no alternative but to embark on a personal crusade to prove his innocence. Clues point to a politician running for congress, Ed Flemming (Mark Goddard, of Lost in Space fame), who sold drugs in college. Now Flemming is doing his best to bury that sordid part of his past. Meanwhile, the trail leads to a police detective who murdered his entire family before killing himself, as well as Flemming’s ex-wife Wendy (Ann Cooper) who suddenly loses her hair and becomes violent. All the suspects share a common denominator: they once attended Stanford University (Ed Flemming’s alma mater) in the late 1960s, with all appearing to have taken a particular strain of LSD nicknamed “Blue Sunshine.” 10 years after using the drug, they’re now experiencing a host of symptoms: hair loss, headaches, and extreme irritability, which increases over time. The symptoms eventually escalate, causing them to lapse into a psychotic episode. Can Zipkin prove his innocence and save more potential victims before it’s too late? 

* Fun Fact #1: Look for a pre-Blade Runner Brion James as an inebriated partygoer, wildly flapping his arms and cawing like a bird of prey.

I’m not sure how Lieberman directed Zalman King, but his performance is turned up to 11 in every scene. Virtually every line from our protagonist is delivered at a volume and intensity that seems out of proportion to the scenes at hand. Jerry Zipkin is a true believer who never caved in to the temptation to sell out, unlike so many of his peers. Because he refuses to play life by the rules, he’s seen by others as an outsider for his erratic behavior. It doesn’t help Zipkin’s case when on two occasions, attempting to intervene results in death. Only his girlfriend Alicia (Deborah Winters) believes in his innocence, but assisting him could spell trouble with LAPD Detective Clay (Charles Siebert), who’s hot on Zipkin’s tail.

What distinguishes Blue Sunshine from the rest are all the bizarre little moments that make the film so memorable. Witness Ed Flemming’s estranged wife, Wendy (Ann Cooper), who succumbs to the delayed effects of Blue Sunshine. A simple day babysitting turns into terror when the obnoxious kids in her care set her over the edge. Minus the butcher knife, it’s a scene most parents (or anyone who’s worked with kids) could relate to. And did I mention there’s a puppet show? Deciding to have creepy Barbra Streisand and Frank Sinatra puppets opening for a political campaign speech might not seem the most orthodox or advisable approach to capturing the hearts and minds of potential voters, but you do you, Mr. Flemming. If anything, it’s a welcome distraction from his empty campaign promises. In one of his commercials, he stresses how he wants to “Make America good again” (Hmm… Sound familiar?). The icing on this surreal cake is when Flemming’s hulking aide, Wayne Mulligan (Ray Young) flips his lid, embarking on a disco rampage.* As played by Young, Mulligan looks as if he’s auditioning to play Frankenstein’s monster. 

* Fun Fact #2: The tunes in the discotheque are provided by a band called “The Humane Society for the Preservation of Good Music” (I’ll leave that for you to decide if they’ve succeeded or failed in their mission).

Blue Sunshine throws us a few red herrings along the way, keeping the audience guessing (Did they take the drug or not?). Not everything is how it seems, as depicted in a tense moment when Zipkin’s surgeon friend, David Blume (Robert Walden), starts to lose his cool in the operating room.* Is it the delayed effects of Blue Sunshine, or is it just stress from overwork? 

* Fun Fact #3: Lieberman’s brother was a pediatric medicine intern at the time. While he wasn’t trained as a surgeon, Lieberman consulted him about the various instruments. Unfortunately, his brother only recalled two operating instruments, a “Kelly” and a “Long Instrument,” so Blume keeps asking for the same ones repeatedly.

Lieberman’s oddball film defies easy categorization. Is it horror, a psychological thriller, or a drama? It’s all of these, and more. Blue Sunshine can also be viewed as a vicious satire, skewering the Baby Boomer generation, when many hippies sold out to become part of the establishment. Viewed from a contemporary lens, it’s easily applicable to subsequent generations of Gen X and Millennials, who followed in the footsteps of their parents. Many of us start off with lofty ideals, which gradually become diluted and compromised over the years, sacrificing our scruples for creature comforts.

Much like the fictional eponymous drug, Blue Sunshine is the gift that keeps on giving after repeated viewings. One scene after another is filled with something odd. It’s refreshing to see a film where you can’t predict where it’s going from one moment to the next. Anything can happen (and often does), in a film that’s obviously not made by a committee or focus groups. Filmmaker Jeff Lieberman succeeds by successfully feeding into our collective paranoia – It’s genuinely scary to consider the possibility that some of us might be walking around right now, unaware of the dangers that lurk within ourselves. To say there’s nothing else like the delightfully idiosyncratic Blue Sunshine is a gross understatement. Come for Zalman King’s histrionics, stay for the puppet show. 

 

Sources for this article: Day of the Living Me, by Jeff Lieberman; “Lieberman Using Film Techniques Which Heighten On-Screen Impact,” by John Cocchi, Boxoffice (May 22, 1978)

 

 

The Manitou

(1978) Directed by William Girdler; Written by: William Girdler, Jon Cedar and Thomas Pope; Based on the novel by Graham Masterton; Starring: Tony Curtis, Susan Strasberg, Michael Ansara, Stella Stevens, Jon Cedar, Ann Sothern, Burgess Meredith, Paul Mantee and Felix Silla; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: **½

A huge thanks to Rebecca from Taking Up Room for hosting another spectacular edition of the So Bad It’s Good Blogathon (https://takinguproom.com/2026/02/13/the-eighth-so-bad-its-good-blogathon-has-arrived/), a celebration of movies that probably never won any accolades, but they’re still winners in our hearts. Be sure to feast your eyes on all the wonderful posts!

“Your God won't help you. Nothing in your Christian world will help. Not prayers, not holy water. Not the weight of a thousand of your churches.” – John Singing Rock (Michael Ansara)

John Singing Rock (Michael Ansara): “Gitche Manitou? Harry, you don't call Gitche Manitou. He...”

Harry Erskine (Tony Curtis): “Oh yeah, well, he's going to get a person-to-person call from me... collect!”

Filmmaker William Girdler (Grizzly, Day of theAnimals), was known for his low budget flicks, featuring outlandish plots and ridiculous premises, yet oddly entertaining. Quite possibly his most “out there” premise, however, was reserved for The Manitou, adapted from a novel by Graham Masterton. */** With a $3 million budget, The Manitou was Girdler’s most expensive movie to date,*** which he touted as a cross between The Exorcist and Star Wars (although the results were much closer to the former film than the latter). 

* Fun Fact #1: According to Masterton, he had discussed a sequel with Girdler, but his plans never reached fruition due to the 30-year-old director’s untimely death. Regardless, The Manitou became a franchise in its own right, with six novels. 

** Fun Fact#2: Despite having penned more than 100 novels, The Manitou is the only feature film adaptation of Masterton’s work, to date. 

*** Fun Fact #3: According to film writer Troy Howarth, the film was financed under the auspices that the script was already written. After the deal was struck, Girdler and fellow writers Jon Cedar (who also appeared in the film as Dr. Jack Hughes) and Thomas Pope reportedly belted out a screenplay in three days.

Set in modern-day San Francisco,* the movie opens with doctors poring over X-rays of a 28-year-old woman, Karen Tandy (played by Susan Strasberg, who was nearly 40 at the time), who suddenly developed a large growth on her neck. To make matters curiouser and curiouser, Dr. Jack Hughes is perplexed to discover that within the growth, which only appeared a few days earlier, a fetus is developing where it shouldn’t be. When Karen reaches out to an old flame, Harry Erskine (Tony Curtis) for help, it turns out she’s carrying a reincarnated 400-year-old Native American medicine man (Talk about having a lot to carry on your shoulders!). After consulting with a professor of Native American culture and mythology (Burgess Meredith), Harry decides it’s time to fight fire with fire, enlisting the aid of reluctant medicine man John Singing Rock (Michael Ansara).** 

* Fun Fact #4: In the novel, the story was set in New York City. 

** Fun Fact #5: Although cast as a Native American medicine man, Ansara was of Syrian descent.

Harry Erskine is a likeable fraud, who makes his living cheating nice but naïve old ladies out of their money, with a fake tarot card routine. His world is turned on end when he’s forced to confront a genuine supernatural occurrence. Tony Curtis delivers a comic performance in a movie that is allegedly a horror drama – unsubtle but fitting for the character and context of the film, which is anything but subtle. Erskine is such a colorful character that he eclipses Karen by comparison. Despite her acting pedigree, Susan Strasberg isn’t given much to do but fret about the tumor on her neck for most of the film.

In addition to Curtis, The Manitou is enhanced (somewhat) by an assembly of veteran character actors. Most notable of these appearances is the always watchable Burgess Meredith, who obviously understood his assignment, in a performance that flirts with camp, but never quite crosses the line. As Dr. Snow, an expert in anthropology and Native American lore, Meredith provides the right balance of eccentricity and earnestness to what would have been a throwaway part in less capable hands. 

Believe it… or not.

One of The Manitou’s debatable charms is that it consistently stretches suspension of disbelief to the breaking point. During what seems like a routine meeting with one of Harry’s favorite clients, the frail old Mrs. Herz (Lurene Tuttle) becomes possessed, spouting invocations in an alien dialect before throwing herself down the stairs. If broad comedy is what Girdler was aiming for, he succeeded. Ratcheting up the terror? Not so much. In a later scene, where a medical laser (under the influence of the angry medicine man developing inside Karen) goes haywire, it appears more like a ray gun from Star Trek or Star Wars (Complete with “pew pew” sounds – Think of a similar scene in Logan’s Run) than a precision medical instrument. Of course, the film’s claim to fame is its depiction of a fully formed medicine man (in miniature) emerging from Karen’s back. The evil medicine man, Misquamacus (deformed by X-rays), is played, alternately, by Felix Silla and Joe Gieb. What follows is a cosmically confusing ultimate battle between good and evil, as Karen’s hospital room transforms into a portal to another realm of time and space where “The Great Old One” dwells (at least I think that’s what happened). The special effects-laden scene, which probably used up a sizable portion of the budget seems more tacked-on than essential to the story, producing more shrugs than “oohs” and “aahs.” If that wasn’t enough hokum for one movie, The Manitou ends with a dubious fact, that a similar incident occurred in Tokyo several years before.* 

* Fun Fact #6: A cursory search for the alleged 1969 Japanese incident yielded nothing, leading at least this reviewer to conclude that it’s nothing more than ballyhoo from William Girdler.  

 

“I shall call him Mini-Misquamacus.”

Besides the well-worn trope of non-Native Americans playing indigenous people, The Manitou commits the sin of homogenizing Native Americans into one large group, with no distinguishing aspects between one tribe or another. I’m no expert, but considering there are currently 574 federally recognized Native American tribes in the United States, it seems highly unlikely that the legend of an extinct Northern California tribe would be known to an indigenous man living on a South Dakota reservation.  

Many adjectives could be used to describe The Manitou: silly, misguided, bizarre, but also fun (if you don’t take it too seriously). In a horror film that has more (unintentional and intentional) laughs than scares, it manages to entertain in spite of itself. Lalo Schifrin lends more gravitas to the film than it probably deserves, with a score that conveys an appropriate balance of mystery and terror. While the movie is more miss than hit, there’s one genuinely frightening scene, involving a séance to summon the spirit of the ancient medicine man, with his head ominously emerging from a table. Critics of the time were less than enthusiastic about The Manitou, with one decrying it as “another Exorcist copycat” with “limited appeal.” But that seems a bit too harsh. While Girdler’s cinematic swan song* certainly isn’t a masterpiece by anyone’s definition (no matter how broad), it’s more than worth a look for anyone who appreciates a good old, strangely engaging, Hollywood misfire. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, for better or worse. 

* Fun Fact #7: According to a 1977 Hollywood Reporter blurb, Girdler intended to follow The Manitou with three productions, Knights of Glory, The Deadly Jungle, and The Last of the White House. Whether any or all of them would have ever seen the light is lost to speculation.

 

Sources for this article: Shout Factory Blu-ray commentary by Troy Howarth; Interview with author Graham Masterton; “Girdler Slates Three to Follow Manitou,” The Hollywood Reporter (March 2, 1977); “Another Exorcist Copycat. Oke credits. Limited Appeal,” by Hege, Variety (March 1, 1978).

 

 

Japan-uary XV Quick Picks and Pans

 

The Red Angel (1966) Set during the second Sino-Japanese War in 1939, The Red Angel follows Sakura (Ayako Wakao), a young Japanese army nurse stationed in China. The soldiers who end up in the military hospital are regarded as nothing but expendable components of the machinery of war, while nurses are told to look the other way and not become attached to the sick and dying. In spite of everything, she does her best to keep the injured troops happy before they die or return to the front lines. Ultimately, she falls in love with a disillusioned, morphine-addicted doctor (Shinsuke Ashida), who spends most of his time deciding who lives and who dies. While Yasuzō Masumura’s bleak, unflinching film isn’t an easy watch, it’s superbly acted, and its theme of retaining one’s humanity in the most inhumane of circumstances resonates just as strongly today. 

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

Tokyo Chorus (1931) When salaryman Shinji Okajima (Tokihiko Okada) stands up for a fired co-worker, he’s let go as well. Thus begins his search for a new job in a time when work is scarce. Contending with various financial setbacks (including a sick daughter and a son who wants a new bike), he struggles to keep his chin up. Shinji finds renewed purpose when he has a chance encounter with an old college professor, forcing him to reassess what’s most important. This early silent film by Yasujirô Ozu hits all the right notes, with moments of drama tempered by gentle humor - a bittersweet, albeit life-affirming portrait of family life in pre-war Japan. 

Rating: ****. Available on DVD (Included in Eclipse Series 10: Silent Ozu - Three Family Comedies)

Daimajin (1966) The first in a trilogy by Daiei (followed by Return of Daimajin and Wrath of Daimajin), set in ancient Japan, is a bit of an anomaly in the world of kaiju that somehow got lost in the shuffle over the years. A benevolent feudal lord is murdered by an outsider who covets his position. When the new despot takes over, enslaving the villagers, he endeavors to wipe out any remaining heirs to the former leader. Still loyal to the Hanabusa clan, Kogenta (Jun Fujimaki) takes the surviving son and daughter (Tadafumi and Kozasa) for refuge in an enchanted mountain nearby. Ten years later, they’re back to recapture the village, with the help of a giant statue/god, Daimajin. The movie takes a while to get going, but it’s worth the wait for the ensuing kaiju mayhem. The Daimajin itself is a sight to behold, with its stern face and all-too-human eyes, making it a unique and terrifying creation. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray (The Daimajin Trilogy Arrow box set) 

Inflatable Sex Doll of the Wastelands (1967) Don’t let the lurid title (the eponymous doll only has a cameo) mislead you. Writer/director Atsushi Yamatoya’s surreal neo noir about Shô, a hitman (Yûichi Minato) seeking revenge against those who murdered his girlfriend, is full of surprises. This unconventional film switches between reality and fantasy, depicting the hitman’s imagined revenge, versus the reality of the situation. Minato does a great job as the diminutive and unassuming cold-blooded killer Shô, who’s no better than his nemesis, Kô (Shôhei Yamamoto).   

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and Kanopy

Undertaker (2012) Writer/director Naoyoshi Kawamatsu’s low-budget, shot-on-video flick is set in an unspecified number of years after a zombie outbreak has devastated Japan. Ryouichi (Yoshito Kobashigawa) performs a service for family members grieving over their loved ones who have turned into zombies. He hunts down and dispatches the infected, so the families can experience a modicum of closure. His latest clients are parents whose grown daughter has succumbed to the zombie-creating virus. Undertaker makes the most of its brief running time, with animated butterflies representing the souls of those who have passed on (I think), and some appropriately gruesome practical effects. 

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

A Haunted Turkish Bathhouse (1975) In 1958 when brothels were officially outlawed in Japan, sex workers resorted to a workaround, the so-called Turkish bathhouse. One such worker, Yukino (Naomi Tani), is eager to leave her former life behind, with the promise of marriage to her boyfriend, Yûzô (Hideo Murota). Unfortunately for Yukino, her fiancé owes a large sum of money to a group of gangsters, forcing her to return to her previous profession. To add insult to injury, Yûzô’s not who he seems to be, running with criminals and scheming with the bathhouse madame. When deception turns to murder, Yukino’s younger sister, Mayumi (Misa Ohara) seeks revenge with the help of a cat demon. This (very) loose re-telling of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Black Cat,” told through a traditional bakeneko mono (monster cat) lens features an entertaining mix of sex and violence with a supernatural twist. It’s probably not to everyone’s taste, but I’ll leave that to you to decide. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray

The Box Man (2024) A reclusive man known only as “Myself” (Masatoshi Nagase) experiences the world from the perspective of his cardboard box. He photographs the people who pass by, logging notes and observing, but never interacting. He’s under surveillance by a doctor (Tadanobu Asano) who’s not really a doctor, and is assisted by a nurse (Ayana Shiramoto) who’s not really a nurse. As we eventually discover, whoever obsesses about the Box Man becomes the Box Man. The film might have worked better if it had been more succinct (it’s probably 30 minutes too long for its own good), starting off on a promising note, but becoming more muddled as it ambles on. 

Rating: **½. Available on Prime Video and Midnight Pulp

March Quick Picks and Pans

Bone (1972) The lives of well-to-do white middle-aged couple Bill and Bernadette (Andrew Duggan and Joyce Van Patten) are turned topsy turvy when a mysterious black man called Bone (Yaphet Kotto) suddenly enters their lives. Writer/director Larry Cohen’s (in his directing debut) intriguing film defies easy categorization, while it lays bare the hypocrisies of upper-class life. Bone perpetuates an atmosphere of unease, keeping you guessing where it’s going from beginning to end, thanks to Kotto’s great performance as the enigmatic title character. 

Rating: ***½. Available on DVD and Tubi

Dr. Caligari (1989) Loosely based on The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) director/co-writer Stephen Sayadian’s hallucinogenic experience looks more like a filmed performance art piece than a traditional movie. Madeleine Reynal stars as the latest iteration of Dr. Caligari, who uses her patients as guinea pigs. Short on plot but big on atmosphere, Dr. Caligari’s fly-on-the-wall perspective flits from one weird set piece to another, like your own private sideshow. Filled with trippy scenarios and disturbing body horror, you might wonder if someone slipped something in your drink. Aside from the bizarre makeup effects and absurdist dialogue is a fun comic performance by Fox Harris (in his final role) as Caligari’s assistant, the warped Dr. Avol. What does it add up to? Beats me, but I enjoyed the trip. It’s safe to say Dr. Caligari won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you’re tired of the same thing, this might just be what you’re seeking. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and Shudder 

 

The Mad Bomber (aka: The Police Connection) (1973) Bert I. Gordon’s (yes, that Bert I. Gordon) seedy B-exploitation thriller set on the mean streets of Los Angeles might be this month’s biggest surprise. While writer/director Gordon doesn’t bring us giant spiders or enormous go-go dancing teens this go-round, he still manages to make everything seem larger than life with exaggerated situations and over-the-top performances. Chuck Connors stars as William Dorn, the eponymous “Mad Bomber,” who wants to make society pay for its transgressions after the drug overdose death of his daughter. With his comically strict adherence to decorum and social etiquette (think Serial Mom), Dorn almost could have been a character in a John Waters movie. Meanwhile a serial rapist (Neville Brand) is roaming the streets, and one police detective (Vince Edwards) thinks he may be the only person who can identify the bomber. Filled with nutty dialogue, gratuitous nudity, and a shaky moral compass, The Mad Bomber may not be anyone’s definition of “quality” cinema, but it’s damned entertaining – a career best for Gordon. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Midnight Pulp

Hidden (2015) Before they hit the big time with Stranger Things (2016), writing/directing duo the Duffer Brothers made this gripping sci-fi/horror film set in a post-apocalyptic landscape. Ray and Claire (Alexander Skarsgård and Andrea Riseborough) live with their young daughter Zoe (Emily Alyn Lind) in a dingy underground shelter, below the charred ruins of a town. They live in a constant state of vigilance, avoiding the roaming “Breathers” who live above ground. With shades of Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend, and pre-figuring the thematically similar A Quiet Place (2018), Hidden is a taut, claustrophobic thriller with an interesting twist. 

Rating: ***½. Available on DVD

Bury Me an Angel (1971) Writer/director Barbara Peeters’ (Humanoids from the Deep) biker revenge flick is almost worthy of its own sub-genre, due to its unconventional protagonist. When her brother is shot and killed for stealing a chopper, Dag (Dixie Peabody) embarks on a quest to find the killer, and exact her own brand of justice. As she roam’s the dusty landscape of the American Southwest, accompanied by fellow biker friends Jonsie and Bernie, they cross paths with a self-important cop (“What in the cornbread hell is going on?”), an officious high school principal, and a self-proclaimed witch. The standard revenge plot is nothing new, but Peabody keeps it fresh as the anti-authority lead character. 

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

The Ghastly Ones (1968) This head-scratcher from writer/director Andy Milligan is another bargain-basement Victorian-period drama with costumes (courtesy of Milligan) that look like they were hastily assembled from old curtains and carpet scraps (which probably isn’t far from the truth). Three sisters and their husbands are invited to a weekend at their deceased father’s estate, where they soon discover someone wants them dead. Milligan regular Hal Borske plays a hunchbacked servant with a surprising past, while one of the few bright spots is Milligan muse Neil Flanagan, who’s underused as an elderly lawyer. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray (in The Dungeon of Andy Milligan Collection), DVD and Tubi

 

Three Nuts in Search of a Bolt (1964) Director/co-writer Tommy Noonan also stars as himself as a nebbish-y out-of-work actor. His luck changes when he’s hired by three individuals: unlucky-in-love stripper Saxie Symbol (Mamie Van Doren), a narcissist, and an alcoholic misanthrope. They can’t afford therapy individually, so they have Noonan stand in their place, as a patient with dissociative identity disorder. Psychiatrist Dr. Myra Von (Ziva Rodann) sees him as her cash cow, while Noonan struggles to keep up the charade. This “adults only” movie (filmed in black and white with color fantasy sequences) might have been risqué stuff by early ‘60s standards, but seems positively tame now, and what passes for “comedy” doesn’t translate well to modern audiences, starting with Noonan’s unfunny performance. 

Rating: **. Available on DVD and Tubi 

 

 

Small Town Secrets Month Quick Picks and Pans

Kyrsyä -Tuftland (2017) After a devastating breakup with her boyfriend, textile manufacturing student Irina (Veera W. Vilo) looks for summer work to pay her bills and clear her head. She answers an ad to work in the backwoods Finnish village of Kyrsyä, where she’ll gain experience making hand-woven items. She arrives at a cult-like community seemingly frozen in time, where men and women live separately. Director/writer Roope Olenius’ slow-burn folk horror film (based on a play by Neea Viitamäki) takes its time building suspense, until things get truly disturbing by the final third.   

Rating: ***½. Available on DVD 

 

The Endless (2017) Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson’s (who also appear as the lead characters) semi-sequel to their 2012 film, Resolution,* takes a lo-fi approach to science fiction, with a focus on characters, rather than flashy special effects. Two brothers, Aaron and Justin, who escaped a doomsday cult as teens, decide to revisit the secluded cult compound as adults to arrive at some closure in their fractured lives. They’re faced with a mystery when they discover the same people, seemingly unchanged after 20 years. While they piece together their hazy memories of growing up in the compound, they begin to question their grip on reality. While it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I was entranced by its deliberate pace and challenging story. 

* Note: You may want to watch their earlier film first, for reference. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

 

The People (1972) A young teacher (Kim Darby) moves to an isolated Amish-like desert community led by the staunch Sol Diemus (Dan O’Herlihy). She takes it upon herself to discover why the children seem so joyless and repressed, while uncovering their town’s tightly held secret. William Shater plays a local doctor who holds a strange fascination and reverence for the townspeople and their unusual ways. The People plays a bit like an overlong Twilight Zone episode, albeit with an ending that just fizzles out. One of the highlights in this otherwise serious movie is one of the goofiest scenes in recent memory involving a trunkload of floating kazoos. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD (Out of Print) and Prime Video 

Invitation to Hell (1984) In this loopy TV movie by director Wes Craven, Matt and Patricia Winslow (Robert Urich and Joanna Cassidy) relocate to a new neighborhood in the suburbs where all may not be as innocuous and idyllic as it seems. Matt and his family are encouraged to join an exclusive country club, run by Jessica Jones (Susan Lucci), the Mephistophelean director. While the rest of his family succumb to the club and its apparent charms, Matt can’t shake the feeling that there’s a sinister agenda at work. Despite pressure from his boss Mr. Thompson (Kevin McCarthy), he’s resolved to learn the club’s secret, and why everyone at his job seems to be getting ahead. The surprises are obvious, and it’s undeniably silly and heavy-handed, but an oddly entertaining experience. 

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

 

Population 436 (2006) Census-taker Steve Kady (Jeremy Sisto) travels to the tiny backwoods town of Rockwell Falls to solve a century-long mystery – somehow, the population has consistently remained at 436. He’s greeted by locals who seem a little too friendly, but once he’s learned their sinister secret, it’s too late. He gets cozy with the dim deputy sheriff’s (Fred Durst) fiancée Courtney (Charlotte Sullivan), who’s eager to leave the town behind, if she can only find a way out. The film raises many answers, but answers little, leaving you to reach your own conclusions. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD

They’re Watching (2016) The crew of a home improvement show travel to rural Moldova (it was actually filmed in Romania) to feature an American expatriate (Brigid Brannah) and the old cottage that she restored. The film crew gain the attention and ire of the superstitious townsfolk after one faux pas follows another. An intriguing premise is mostly squandered because of the mostly unsympathetic leads (SPOILER ALERT: one of the most obnoxious characters survives), and the plot falling into the trap of most found footage movies (specifically, someone is there to film every awkward moment). It’s a comedy/horror that’s not funny enough to be a comedy, nor scary enough to be a proper horror film, leading to an overblown, unsatisfying climax. 

Rating: **½. Available on DVD and Tubi

The Bubble (1966) Writer/director Arch Oboler, who co-created the pioneering 3D movie Bwana Devil (1952), made this oddity (also originally shown in 3D). A young married couple, Mark and Catherine (Michael Cole and Deborah Walley), force their charter plane pilot to land after choppy weather causes Catherine to go into labor. They land on the outskirts of a strange town that resembles a movie set (obviously a cost-conscious choice on the part of the filmmakers). The residents speak in loops, as if they’re pre-programmed, wandering about in a daze. They soon learn that they’re trapped like zoo animals by an invisible bubble which surrounds the town. It’s an interesting premise that sadly goes nowhere (just like the town’s inhabitants), slowly crawling to a tepid ending. Skip it. 

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

The Pit

(1981) Directed by Lew Lehman; Written by Ian A. Stuart; Starring: Sammy Snyders, Jeannie Elias, Sonja Smits and Laura Hollingsworth; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***

“I look back and I think to myself, there’s always things you can do better… Jamie’s character, even when you watch it today, is gonna freak you out. You can see the eyes on Jamie. There was something there, and I’m proud of that.” – Sammy Snyders

Everyone likely has a story about the weird kid at school other kids seemed to steer clear of, because of their appearance or behavior (Hey, no judgment here! I was probably that weird kid).  By necessity or choice, they become immersed in their own world – someplace they feel accepted. While we wonder what’s his or her deal, our imaginations take flight with idle (and often inaccurate) speculation. In most cases, they’re harmless but lack the social skills to navigate the nuances and pitfalls of social interactions, have interests that no one else cares about, or just behave a little differently from their peers. The Pit (1981)*/** is about a not-so-benign oddball kid, with the repercussions of his social estrangement taken to horrible extremes.    

Fun Fact #1: Although The Pit was another example of a Canadian tax shelter production, filming was predominately in the United States (with a combination of Canadian and American cast and crew), in the small town of Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. 

Fun Fact #2: The film’s original title, Teddy, was also the title of the novelization.

Jamie Benjamin (Sammy Snyders)*/** is a smart but troubled 12-year-old boy that other kids avoid like a communicable disease. Everyone, including the adults in his life, sense something is “off” about him. Interactions with other kids often end in disaster (such as the opening scene, where he’s punched in the face by a schoolyard bully), so he mostly keeps to himself. His only friends are the critters he keeps in an overcrowded terrarium and his stuffed toy, Teddy, who “tells” him what to do. His frustrated parents (Laura Press and Richard Alden) have gone through several babysitters, but when they need to travel out of town, they hire a new sitter, perky college student Sandy O’Reilly (Jeannie Elias). Sandy views Jamie as an interesting challenge. With a major in psychology, she somehow considers herself qualified to conduct some dime-store analysis on him (which goes about as well as you would imagine). While she gradually earns Jamie’s confidence, she becomes the unwitting object of his infatuation. In an effort to gain her trust, he reveals his secret about a pit hidden in the woods (with some particularly nasty little residents), but things don’t quite end up as planned. 

* Fun Fact #3: Screenwriter Ian A. Stuart was less than enthused about the final results, claiming that his “story was destroyed,” turning it into a pure horror film rather than a psychological drama. The filmmakers omitted the ending as originally written, which suggested that everything was in Jamie’s mind (and depicted Jamie institutionalized). 

** Fun Fact #4: Stuart’s screenplay envisioned Jamie as a pre-pubescent boy, around 8 or 9. Instead, the filmmakers cast 14-year-old Sammy Snyders to play the now12-year-old lead character, significantly changing the dynamics of the movie.

We’re never sure how we should feel about Jamie. On the one hand, it’s easy to sympathize with his social and mental isolation as a result of the ostracism he endures. On the other hand, it’s not so easy to excuse his antisocial (not to mention wildly inappropriate) behavior. In one especially uncomfortable scene, when Sandy reluctantly agrees to wash his back, Jamie confesses that his mother still bathes him (“She really tried to make me clean.”), providing some insight into the family’s dysfunctional relationship. He follows up by asking Sandy, “Do you like washing me?”  which predicably sends her running out of the bathroom. In a later scene, he extorts the town librarian (who believes her niece has been kidnapped) into giving him an impromptu striptease (Yes, this scene is about as creepy as you would likely imagine).* In another scene, he professes his love to Sandy by writing on the bathroom mirror while she’s showering. In times of discomfort or indecision, he consults his teddy bear (whose voice sounds suspiciously like him), bringing to the surface his suppressed urges. In the case of Teddy, the conversations are strictly in Jamie’s head. It’s not so easy to explain away the existence of the pit and some troglodytic primordial humanoids (which he calls “Troliwogs”)**/*** that dwell at the bottom. He takes it upon himself to feed the creatures (buying meat with stolen money), but the food supply quickly diminishes, forcing him to take more drastic measures – anyone he deems to be a "bad” person is fair game for the pit. He once again faces a moral dilemma, however, when his supply of enemies runs out. 

* Fun Fact #5: According to Stuart, director Lew Lehman’s wife (who was frequently on the set) didn’t want her husband directing the brief nude scenes. Those sequences, shot later as inserts, were directed by Stuart instead. 

** Fun Fact #6: The troglodytes were initially played by young children, but when the kids started getting sick and passing out from the constrictive costumes, they were replaced by adult little people. 

*** Fun Fact #7: There were two types of costumes used to depict the troglodytes, with the initial crude, makeshift costumes created on location. The filmmakers weren’t impressed with the results, prompting them to fabricate new costumes for close-up shots in a Toronto-based studio.

 

Considering the scenes that preceded his homicidal conversion, it’s an odd choice of the filmmakers to play Jamie’s murder streak for laughs. The Pit lapses into dark comedy through a montage of scenes (accompanied by wacky musical cues), as he leads his enemies (real or perceived) to their doom. Following an argument with Sandy (who believes the pit creatures should be studied), Jamie allows them to escape to the surface, which in turn condemns them to a harsher fate. At this point, the film’s narrative loses its way, with our central character disappearing for the next few scenes. Left to their own devices, the little subterranean beasties create more murder and mayhem than they might have been capable of otherwise. The local police and townspeople combine forces to hunt down the malevolent troglodytes, but it’s never made clear whether Jamie learned about their eventual fate or if he felt any remorse about them. 

 

The distributors should have warned audiences about the risk of whiplash, considering the abrupt mid-film tonal shift, when Jamie starts luring his victims to the pit. In the context of the film, it’s a jarring choice (it’s a credit to composer Victor Davies that he does his best to keep up with the changes). By far, the best part of The Pit is Sammy Snyders’ convincing and creepy performance as the antiheroic main character. Despite the excesses of the rest of the movie, Snyders creates a believable character in Jamie, with a warped sense of justice but recognizable motivations. In Jamie’s defense, the adults he interacts with aren’t much better than his peers, ranging from dismissive to outright hostile, so it’s hard for Jamie to find a moral/ethical compass when no one else does the right thing around him. The Pit is a fascinating mess – a near-miss that almost works, despite its numerous inconsistencies and weird structure. Fans of offbeat low-budget horror may want to give this a try. All others might consider proceeding with caution. 

* Fun Fact #8: Some of The Pit’s disjointed nature could be attributed to the fact that director Lew Lehman was fired before the film’s completion, and wasn’t available to provide input for the subsequent editing. 

 

Sources for this article: Blu-ray commentary by Paul Corupe and Jason Pichonsky; Interview wish Sammy Snyders, “The Babysitter – An Interview with Jeannie Elias,” “Teddy Told Me To – An Interview with Ian A. Stuart.”