(1970) Written and directed by Andy Milligan; Starring: Neil Flanagan, Jaqueline Webb, Judith Israel, Paul Lieber, Jack Spencer, Frank Echols and Gerald Jacuzzo; Available on Blu-ray and DVD
Rating: **½
“Talk comes cheap, my boy, and I’ve learned not to gamble on
people’s words. I can’t afford to. I have learned in this mortal life of ours
that it is each man for himself. I preach that God takes care of those who
believe in him, but I’ve discovered that all my years of believing haven’t
helped me one bit. Mother Church sends me little money to exist on, and even
then, it doesn’t arrive when it’s supposed to, so I preach one thing and
continue believing another. Self-survival. You would be well to remember this.”
– Father Guru (Neil Flanagan)
A gargantuan thanks to Rebecca from Taking Up Room for hosting the latest edition of the So Bad It’s Good Blogathon, a continuing celebration of the best of the worst. Today’s offering is a piquant little number by the notorious filmmaker Andy Milligan, Guru, the Mad Monk. I would be remiss if I didn’t give thanks to author/blogger John Harmon for introducing me to the dubious charms of Milligan’s handiwork. Be sure to visit his blog, Tales from the Freakboyzone for articles about Milligan, and much, much more…
The late great Andy Milligan’s ambition arguably outweighed his talent by a substantial margin, yet his films have more heart and craft than the generic big-budget prefabricated blockbusters typically churned out by the Hollywood studios. Milligan didn’t know the meaning of staying in his lane, given his limited means, creating costume period pieces for what would seem like pocket change to the typical Hollywood producer. Set in Eastern Europe presumably during the Middle Ages, Guru, the Mad Monk was his most cinematic to date (his first to be shot on 35 mm film), but don’t let that fool you – Cleopatra this isn’t. Guru was budgeted at an estimated $11,000* and in typical Milligan fashion, shot over six days. An old Manhattan church* provided a quasi-Old-World look (get used to it, since the church and its grounds are basically the only setting). The sound of waves crashing and seagulls screeching lead us to believe it’s on the remote island enclave of Mortavia (don’t bother looking it up).
* Fun Fact #1: This was one of the few offerings by Milligan’s short-lived production company, Nova International Pictures (created in an effort to control his film distribution).
** Fun Fact #2: According to Cinefear.com founder Keith Crocker, the ever-hot-headed filmmaker was known for entering theaters that held unauthorized screenings of his films, and stealing back the prints.
*** Fun Fact #3: St. Peter’s Episcopal Church was built in
1831, while the wrought iron fence surrounding the structure dates back to 1790.
Hungry for power and money, the corrupt Father Guru (Neil Flanagan), with the aid of his vampire companion Olga (played by Flanagan’s real-life spouse, Jaqueline Webb) and faithful hunchbacked assistant Igor (Jack Spencer), looks for ways to bring more revenue to his church. He finds the perfect opportunity in Nadja (Judith Israel), a young woman imprisoned for a murder she didn’t commit. Her lover Carl (Paul Lieber) implores Guru to spare her life. In turn he’s employed by the holy man to acquire bodies for medical experimentation, which can be sold for cash (Carl’s ventures away from the church economically occur off-screen). Guru’s plans are sidetracked, however, when Igor falls for Nadja. His position as de facto ruler of Mortavia is further threatened when Bishop Kopel (Frank Echols) pays him a visit, along with his intended replacement, Father Polanski (Gerald Jacuzzo).
Milligan regular Neil Flanagan chews the scenery with his tour de force (or should I say, “tour de farce?”) performance as the title character. Guru’s contradictory behavior becomes a mouthpiece for Milligan’s deep-seated cynicism about organized religion and authority figures in general. In a scene that must be experienced to be believed, he argues with himself in the mirror, revealing the conflicted sides of his psyche (predating Andy Serkis’ motion capture performance as Gollum by 30 years). Every time he’s on screen, you know it’s going to be interesting. One of the few performers in the film with genuine talent, Flanagan was the secret weapon in Milligan’s troupe, having worked extensively in theatre, film, and television.
Flanagan aside, Milligan often rounded out his cast with non-actors pulled off the street, friends, lovers, and otherwise (hence, the varying quality of the performances). Paul Lieber,* who plays our hero Carl, recites his dialogue as if he’s reading the fine print in a non-disclosure agreement (calling him wooden is an insult to trees). On the other end of spectrum, Jack Spencer hogs the spotlight as Igor, grinning and hopping around like an overeager puppy, despite Guru’s constant barrage of insults and browbeating (“I can say anything to you, you ignorant bastard, and you just smile”). Jaqueline Web hams it up as Guru’s partner in crime, Olga, feeding off the blood of the executed.
* Fun Fact #4: With 68 acting credits to date, one can only
assume he’s gotten much better.
Guru’s not-so-special makeup effects, depicting the
numerous tortures of condemned prisoners, would be gruesome if they weren’t so
unconvincing. In one scene, a condemned man’s eyes (resembling hors d'oeuvres
at a cocktail party) are gouged out, and a thief’s “hands,” which appear to
have been pilfered from a department store mannequin, wobble before they’re chopped
off. As stagey and cartoonish as the effects were, one crude decapitation scene
was reportedly enough to make someone in the audience throw up.
A highlight (or lowlight, depending on your point of view) of a Milligan production are the slapdash costumes,* created by Milligan himself. Guru’s costumes never disappoint, evoking a bygone, albeit indistinct, era. Witness scraps of furniture upholstery, curtains, and other assorted bits and pieces, held together with nothing more than pins and repurposed to vaguely resemble something from the medieval period, more or less. Meticulously researched adherence to period accuracy took a backseat to the practical requirement of having enough material to cover the cast’s derrieres. Another Milligan trademark on display was the copious amount of cloth draped over the walls of the cathedral to conceal modern fixtures.
* Fun Fact #5: Frank Echols, who played Bishop Kopel, Guru’s
superior, commented on his outfit: “Andy, I look like an old hooker off 8th
Avenue.”
Milligan claimed Guru was his worst film,* but don’t let that dissuade you (like most artists, he probably wasn’t the best judge of his own work). While it’s certainly uneven, Guru, the Mad Monk is among his most fun movies. Amidst the goofiness, there are some serious things to say, although considering Milligan’s fickle nature, you’re best advised to take any “messages” with a grain of salt. Working with budgets that would make 1940s Poverty Row productions look lavish by comparison, Milligan did a lot with virtually nothing. Perhaps that’s why his movies resemble something out of another time and place (or maybe another dimension). I would say Milligan’s films are an acquired taste, but I don’t think there’s a way to properly immunize yourself – you just have to dive in head-first. Either they click or they don’t. Lower your expectations, then lower them a few notches down from there, and you might have a good time (don’t expect Martin Scorsese or even H.G. Lewis levels of competence). Does it entertain? Yes, it does. Is it for everyone? Definitely not, but if you’re the kind of person that appreciates Milligan’s special brand of je ne sais quoi, you’re in for a treat.
* Fun Fact #6: Editing the film was apparently a nightmare
for Milligan, in no small part, due to the fact that sound and picture were
recorded separately, and frequently out of synch.
Sources for this article: The Ghastly One – The 42nd
Street Netherworld of Director Andy Milligan, by Jimmy McDonough; Severin
Blu-ray commentary by Keith Crocker; “Remembering Andy Milligan” featurette
with Tom Vozza
