Tonight we return to the annals of true crime, with a relatively faithful big screen adaption of the Tate/LaBianca murders(another one?)in Frank Howard's "The Helter Skelter Murders", originally released as "The Other Side of Madness" in 1970; the first of many dramatizations of the historic crimes as perpetrated by the Manson family.Shot in noirish black and white with a brief color sequence depicting a screen test for the Sharon Tate character, or Victim/The Starlet, as she's referred to in the credits.One gripe against the film, expressed by those lucky enough to see the damned thing over the years, and inevitably, gauge against the 1976 telepic Helter Skelter directly afterwards, is the use of newspaper and magazine speculation as source material for the lurid details of the case.A valid point until you factor in the fact that most of the particulars were still being sorted out as the movie was being produced.The ink on Manson's infamous Life magazine cover shot hadn't even dried yet, ferchrissakes.Despite the narrative's fogginess at certain points, and a running time mercilessly padded out with courtroom scenes and a pointless hippie groovefest at a rock quarry that goes on for what seems like daaaays, the movie carries an air of authenticity and realism about it, the lack of sync sound providing an eerie quiet that hangs over the re-enactment of the devilish misdeeds of the drug-soaked drop outs.
The film also boasts of a stellar soundtrack, provided by Sean Bonniwell of sixties psych/garage outfit, Music Machine(although Bonniwell has long voiced his dissatisfaction at the inclusion of his music in a Manson exploitation flick) and "Mechanical Man", an infamous track warbled by ol' Jesus Christ(as he sometimes was called back when he and God were both loooove,man) himself.Some scenes were shot on location at the Spahn Movie Ranch where the murderous ragtags hung their hats for a time, and according to at least one source, the Tate residence where the grisly murders transpired.Crazy, maaaaahn, crazy.Dig the violence.
Once the Flintstone chewables were doled out, everything went to Hell.
After we open with a lengthy scrolling Star Wars-esque disclaimer, we're brought to that fateful evening when screams and gunshots would disturb the peaceful quiet of a late summer night in Los Angeles: four murky hippies crowd around a table, are given doses of lysergic acid, an antique pistol that looks like it's been pried from Bat Masterson's mummified hands, some hunting knives, an address, and a nod from Charlie(this one looks a lot more effective the farther away from the lens he is).A fearful eye and gunshots lead us into a far out inverted sequence of an orb weaver wrapping its struggling prey in silk over the titles.We then see our perpetrators awaiting their day in court from prison cells set against a flashback from groovier times at the Spahn Ranch, doing chores, blowing pot, lying around on dirty mattresses and listening to Charlie's "Mechanical Man".As the trial begins we hear Manson indoctrinating his children in acid-drenched psychobabble("You can't kill kill!"...settle down over there, Spacey.) in an audio flashback as the first witness tells the court about the "gathering", where an ocean of freaked out hippies get together in a rock quarry for an open air rock festival and blow their minds together.Some of the defendants are seen mingling at the day and night event, which has a brief running time of infinity times infinity.Simply stating, "Yes, your honor, I saw them at a rock concert last year..." would have spared us the overweight topless biker broads unskinny dipping, their flabby asses grooving in reverse around the bonfire to the far out strains of garage rock, but I digress.The next witness tells the court that, yes, the family may have partaken in some drugs here and there(and Liberace was rumoured to have been flamboyant),and girls may or may not have been passed around like a jibber-jab of Maui Wowee,as evidenced by one hippie chick's hornicidal hayloft session.
"You know, a long time ago being crazy meant something. Nowadays everybody's crazy."-Charles Manson
The next witness tells of "Helter Skelter", Charlie's apocalyptic race war plan, as demonstrated by a handful of Black Panther-types robbing an auto parts store(!The revolution will be reachable by mini-scooter.), and interrupting the pleasant whiteness of an old honky's evening by gun butting her grill-piece and jacking all of her capitalist thaaangs, dig?Then it's back to shadowy flower children again crowding the table, dosing up, and heading out to put an end to the Age of Aquarius, once and for all.Though the players(killers and victims) go unnamed in the claret-splashed finale, I'm gonna take artistic liberty here, and name them to ease my descriptive burdens.We see Watson and the girls cruising through Beverly Hills(I was impressed with Tex's driving skills on acid, not once did the engine melt into the road or turn into a metal bird of prey and flap off into the night...hey, it happens, trust me.).At their destination, Watson cuts the telephone lines and dispatches the teenage goggle-headed Parent character with a flurry of bullets while he's trying to discreetly start his car.After the girls are let in, the killers stroll casually into the Tate household without even a knock.The burly Frykowski, sleeping on the couch, is woken up at gunpoint.While looking for a towel,Atkins notices Folger relaxing on a bed, and Tate and Sebring having a chat in another bedroom.Frykowski breaks loose from the towel binding, struggling on the floor with Atkins, who repeatedly stabs him in his legs to keep him from escaping.Watson then shoots him, as he's stumbling out into the yard.The other three captives are bound together by rope. which Sebring slips out of, earning him a bloody dispatch.Frykowski proves to be a tough kill,requiring more gun shots, bludgeoning, and finally, multiple stabbings before he gives up the ghost.Folger breaks loose and is shanked in the labonza by Watson for her efforts(with more to follow), as Watson orders Atkins to kill the pregnant starlet, still hogtied and secured over a crossbeam in the ceiling.Check."Pig" written in blood on the door.Check.We see the killers venturing out on their second night of murder as a limp warning about the effect of drugs flashes on the screen, leading us to the credits.
"I am the devil, and I'm here to do the devil's business." -Charles 'Tex' Watson
Kinda surprising to find out nobody in tonight's review went on to do other films, as Howard shows more than an adequate grasp on filmmaking, with this moody, atmospheric, well-shot little number under his belt.I'm pretty sure he could've gone on to bigger things if he persevered.Debbie Duff, in the Tate role, may not have had acting chops(she looks more confused than terrified when she learns that she and her unborn baby are about to buy the farm) but actually surpasses Sharon in the looks department, possessing of an adorable smirk/smile and great eyes.On the other hand, the guy playing Manson is pretty forgettable, with precious little screen presence, and brings no signature hypnotic eyes to the table either, for that matter.In his defense, Manson's not the easiest guy to get across on the silver screen.Don't buy into the anti-Murders propaganda floating around on the interwebz out here, see it for yourself before you slag it off.Though not as thorough or sensational as Helter Skelter(1976), nor as embedded in Family psyche as Van Bebber's Manson Family(2003), it really is a pretty well-made slice of true crime exploitation with a killer soundtrack, and ample dark creepiness.Three wops on the scale.Recommended!
Blood, Rope, and Tears? I have all of their albums,maaaaahn.
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