Showing posts with label Pier Angeli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pier Angeli. Show all posts

Thursday, October 3, 2013

"Nelle pieghe della carne" (1970) d/Sergio Bergonzelli

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Tonight we look at an early giallo of Italian/Spanish descent, from the man who would later direct Ajita Wilson and Lina Romay in the hardcore Apocalipsis Sexual (1982), that's heavy on the trippy psychedelia of the era and Freudian lunacy and features performers like Elenora Rossi Drago and Pier Angeli, a year before her tragic suicide. The translated, international title, In The Folds of Flesh, refers to a Freudian quote about the effect of life experience upon the brain, not the body, as some might be misled into believing, and the levels of sex and nudity within are appropriately tamer than one would expect to see in gialli of the period. Don't let that sway you, though, as Bergonzelli more than compensates with incest, rape, murder, outrageous concentration camp flashbacks, vultures, and more bloody mannequin heads than three Herschell Gordon Lewis movies, ferchrissakes. I can't help but think a pre-movie bubbler sesh ( for self-medication purposes only, of course) might act as the perfect compliment for anyone thinking about sitting down to this one, especially if they aren't able to score a ten strip of acid, readily...

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"Hiyata empowers himself by lifting the phallic Beta capsule over his head, and thus becomes an Ultra Man"- Freud (not really)
Just before he's apprehended by the authorities, Pascal (Fernando Sancho) the murderer seemingly witnesses Lucille (Rossi Drago) burying a body behind her sizeable estate as a young boy looks on. Thirteen years later, Lucille has a couple of vultures in cages as pets, and is also mother to Andre (Alfredo Mayo) and Falesse (Angeli), who may or may not have been molested by her own father as a child, causing her to murder her suitors by dagger or sword when their sexual advances trigger her traumatic memories, as Andre peep-toms from a safe distance. Afterwards, Mom grants her the criminal mulligan by disposing of the corpses via acid bath(!), and slagging the bones off to visitors as "Etruscan remains". Yeah, maybe in a technical sense...More heads roll than on the set of a 1981 Ted Nugent video (Intensities in Ten Cities was a good album with a couple of great tracks on it, I don't care what you say) while Andre takes fashion to the eyesore extreme with clothes that'd make Liberace blush.You probably don't want to act on your first impressions of anyone in a giallo, as the twists soon come like Arch Hall, Jr. himself induced them, in a tux with a (wild) guitar and dirt bike down on the beach.

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"Slap me another tab of acid, this Grateful Dead album still sucks, maaan!"
Pascal finally butts back in on the scene, hating on animals (a vulture eats lead and a dog gets C.T.F.O.ed), and raping the women of the household, and while the thought of forced penetration from a slathering, overweight, unkempt Hispanic criminal tortures Lucille, Falesse is strangely cool with it! None-the-less, Lucille does the unwanted house guest in with cyanide capsules in the bath while flashing back to her own black and white childhood, where she waved goodbye to the condemned as they asphyxiated in gas chambers (through improbable large glass shower windows, of course). A man claiming to be Falesse's real father appears, having faked his death, conflicting with the idea that she had beheaded him after molesting her all those years ago, as flashbacks would have you believe. Another flashback (what's one more, at this point?) reveals that it was her mother's lover who had raped her, and that she beheaded, and that the details of that night were purposely kept from her to maintain her sanity. Her sanity? What about the viewer's sanity after bearing witness to this Italo-Spanish soap opera-on-Krokodil? What about it, I ask you.

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"The realism of Flesh's gore disturbed me very deeply."- Nobody
Angeli, who earned a Golden Globe for 'Most Promising Newcomer' a decade earlier, walks around in much the same haze that she would in the laughable American Z-grade monster opus, Octaman, a year later before succumbing to a sleeping pill overdose. Sancho made his name in westerns during the previous decade, and appeared in De Ossorio's 1973 Blind Dead sequel, Return of the Evil Dead. The folks over at Severin have released the English dub of tonight's review in a very acceptable, highly collectible package, should any of this strike you as vaguely appealing (...or even appalling, if that's yer bag. Nobody's judging you here, man.). On the scale, Flesh rates a respectable two biggies, a worthwhile addition to any genre collection. Look for it!

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"Ohhh, help me, Will Robinson! Save meeeeee!"
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Thursday, October 23, 2008

Octaman(1971)d/Harry Essex

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Sometimes when you go back and revisit one of your favorite artists or performers earlier work,you're pleasantly surprised,and you gain a greater appreciation for them.I've always championed the special makeup effects work of Rick Baker,who is without a doubt a master of his craft.That being said,this early Baker outing is like an upper decker some drunken wiseass pooped into your toilet's cistern at a party last month,and by now your whole place reeks of its putrefying stench.In Mr. Baker's defense,his creature suit(co-designed by Doug Beswick)isn't the only thing that suck about Octaman.Just about every aspect of this movie sucks.In fact,the only way it could possibly suck MORE is if it was remade these days by Uwe Boll or Rob Zombie.Maybe.
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Eyeee eyeeee eyeeee eyeeeeee....Yeah I took the low road here.
A scientific expedition in Mexico(California)led by Kerwin Matthews and Pier Angeli(who overdosed and died during the filming,by the way) uncovers small rubbery mutated octopi specimens in a lake they soon deduct got that way by nuclear waste dumped into the sea which has seeped into nearly all its tributaries by this point.One of their ridiculously corny, stereotypically non-Mexican Mexican guides tells them of stories his grandmother told him of a sea serpent with many arms that terrorized the area for years,then produces a crude drawing he made of the legendary creature.Nevermind the fact that two thirds of their previous group is missing,and one is dead.Nevermind that octopi don't naturally occur in lakes.Come to think of it,throw anything you may already know about anything and strain your eyes to the poorly lit interior shots,and the abysmally lit outdoor shots.You may even thank the film's producers for the vast number of dark shots,having less cheezy garbage to actually see and laugh mockingly at.
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How does an Octaman walk around on dry land?Why,his rubbery octaboots,that's how!
When Octaman lumbers on camera,he tends to swing his four tentacled arms(two are attached to his legs,mind you)around listlessly,sometimes pimpslapping fake Mexicans,sometimes into inanimate things on location.Either way,he's obviously pissed that these scientists have tried to octa-nap his little rubber cousins for research purposes,often picking up Pier Angeli and trying to make off into the lake with her,King Kong-style.The actor in the octa-suit probably doesn't enjoy the enormous latex Mardi Gras octa-head Baker designed for it too much.He gets momentarily captured in a net,he downs a tree so the team can't leave the site,he attacks team members on a row boat,he pops out of their Winnebago and slaps them around,he tries to carry off Angeli again,then gets pumped full of bullets,before lumbering listlessly to the edge of the lake and submerging himself.A fake Mexican guide chucks a carved likeness of him into the water and the credits roll finally.Will man's folly create another Octaman?Let's fucking hope not.
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Not the greatest makeup work Rick Baker has ever committed to the big screen by a long shot.
Did I say earlier that this movie sucks?I wasn't bullshitting you.Thankfully,Baker's work improved by leaps and bounds,winning him six Oscars.I'd suggest viewing this one for unintentional comedic aspects,but unfortunately,they don't even exist here.Though it received a lot of press in old issues of Famous Monsters which endears it to many horror buffs,I can't in good conscience stamp this turkey with any other rating than:
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The late Pier Angeli,as seen in dynamic new Octavision(which only has five lenses...)!
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