"Santo y Blue Demon Contra Los Monstruos" (1970) d/ Gilberto Martinez Solares

Let's celebrate American independence this year in the best possible way, by reviewing a Mexican horror/wrestling movie of the highest/ lowest order, starring two of everyone's favorite superhero luchas, Santo and The Blue Demon (Three if you count Black Shadow, who plays Demon's evil clone, Blue Demon II) and a host of dollar store versions of universally beloved monsters (Franquestain, I shit you not.)...and a rubbery cyclops with a flashlight eye...and a brainy dwarf creature that stands around a lot...and a hunchbacked dwarf assistant...and green spackle-grilled Mexican wrestlers this film's producers would have you believe were "zombies". What a sublime hoot.


"Last night's party left me a little twisted...", notes Waldo (Santanon),  the hunchbacked dwarf henchman.
First we're treated to entirely too much of a tag team match between boxy-looking Mexican masked lady wrestlers (oof), then Santo watches (or not, he looks glazed over to me) his crime-fighting partner/ ring rival, Blue Demon, in his tag team match. Blue Demon likes to head butt a whole lot. In the meanwhile, Bruno Halder (Jorge Rado), a scientist world renowned for his preoccupation with resurrecting monsters and brain transplants, has passed on, but his corpse is stolen by a bald hunchbacked midget named Waldo (Santanon) and a gaggle of zombies who whisk the late doctor back to his castle via horse and buggy. Blue Demon happens to notice the ghoulish goings-on as he's speeding past in his convertible whip, and later gets himself captured and subsequently duplicated for evil by the reanimated scientist, who also scours the local graveyard and haunted house scene for all of his favorite monsters, that we were introduced to during the credit sequence, as they stood on a hillside, doing their own respective monster thing.


"We'll soon be done examining your heads for appearing in this movie, dressed as you all are."
To help Blue Demon II and his zombie thugs beat Santo up and terrorize his own brother and niece ("You called me insane...I will now disintegrate my niece.", he says at one point, in all seriousness), Gloria (Hedi Blue),  who just so happens to be Santo's arm candy, Halder enlists El Vampiro, a Coffin Joe-knock off on a wire, an impoverished-looking mummy, an old bearded Indio with a fake nose and teeth, or the alleged "Wolfman" we were promised in the release poster, Franquestain, allegedly the Frankenstein monster's goateed relative, an aquatic Cyclops, and if all of them weren't enough, a pair of vampire women. Naturally, Vampiro dons a wrasslin' mask (or another much larger wrestler, if you're splitting hairs) and squares off against Santo in the ring, and is repelled by Gloria's cross necklace, turning into a hopelessly rubber bat and flapping off, leading all of the other monsters to tag in on Enmascarado de Plata. See! Franquestain driving a car and squashing a dude's headpiece under his over sized bovver boot. See! Wolfman slaughter a hysterical boy's family before his very eyes. See! Vampiro cheesily spread his cape, and repeatedly fly on a wire up to terrified, screaming mujeres. All this, and slightly more.


"Cosplay ees so mach fahnnnnnn!", exclaims El Vampiro (David Alvisu).
This was one of six movies Santo made in 1970 alone. Think about that for a second. In the others he squares off against the likes of mafia assassins,  Nazis from Atlantis, zombies, The Riders of Terror, and even some more vampire women, because there really isn't anybody who doesn't appreciate a hot little number with fangs now and again, is there? There are a lot of cheap laughs here, as one might expect, despite being a technical flop of sorts...But, then again, the same abysmal production values that burn my well-traveled ojos after too long (one movie is my usual cut off point, I doubt I could double dip this particular sub-genre, even for significant piles of dinero) might give all sorts of pleasure to fans of this brand of brainless, pugilistic schlock. On the scale, one Wop. Could have used Mil Mascaras.


"When monsters threaten the safety of the world, it's good to know we have you Mexican masked wrestlers to protect us."

"Misterio en las Bermudas" (1979) d/ Gilbert Martin

By 1979, it's safe to say the lemon that once was the phenomenon of Mexican lucha libre movies had been squeezed of nearly every drop of entertaining juice, and tonight's review, known as Mystery in the Bermuda Triangle en ingles, is a brittle, dialed-in epitaph for the zany genre, bereaft of any real thrills. El Enmascarado de Plata, or Santo, as he was known worldwide, was already sixty-two years old(!) here, and though he would make four more wrestling movies before his death in 1984, the writing was already clearly on the wall.


"A thousand masks and you haven't got one condom?"
After a plane vanishes from sight during a tropical storm caused by a mirrored periscope of sorts, two Mexican anglers snag the mask of Santo from the rippling surf, leading one of the fishermen to tell the not-that-amazing tale that led up to this event. We see Santo, The Blue Demon, and Mil Mascaras dust off some ham n' egg opponents in a brief triple tag team match before they're asked by the government to go undercover to protect an Iranian karate-princess while she signs an important treaty. What's undercover for three guys in masks whipping around in convertible sports cars and stretch Cadillacs, I ask you. On the evil, scheming side of the peso, is an egghead assassin who's enlisted a trio of Mexican Mata Hari's to seduce valuable information out of the wrestlers/super heroes/special agents. He's also hired some thugs to rough up Mil Mascaras on a pier, and jack his wristwatch. What a bastard.


"As if you couldn't tell by the matching silver lame' headbands and jumpsuits, we're from an underwater city..."
Our heroes have a sloppily choreographed scrap or two with the egghead's beefy henchmen, save a drowning countryman from grainy stock footage of a shark, have a pair of uninspired car chases (and a boat chase) that show off their flash vehicles (and motorboat), and sit around sipping champagne in their best leisure wear (and color-coordinated maskies, of course). Santo's sympathetic spy-girl, Rina (Silvia Manriquez), is kidnapped by a pair of humps in silver lame' jumpsuits and taken to an unnamed city under the ocean, which has it's own sun, grass, and luxurious hotel, apparently. There, after being purified (by standing in a fountain in a bikini, mind you), she is reunited with her scientist father, who informs her she will never dwell among the surface folk again. In the end, they rescue the princess, but are transported off-camera to the underwater city, leading to the inevitable nuclear apocalypse that will no doubt occur in a Lucha Libre-less world, as evidenced by footage of a stock mushroom cloud. Could this really be the end???


"Which one of you high school gymnasium assassins has Mil's action slacks?"
If you set out to see every single Lucha Libre movie as a weird goal for yourself, I suppose you'd probably want to add this one to your list. Compared to earlier efforts, though, this one is flatter than the sounds coming out of a seventh grade marching band practice. The two stories barely intersect (or make sense, really), and the usual rough n' tumble action you might expect from one of these things is phoned in and lifeless. Notably, Mil Mascaras appears on camera momentarily without a mask on...from behind. Wah wah wah wahhhhh. You'll be blowing sad trombones of your own throughout this mess, which only manages a single Wop on the rating scale, a thrown match if there ever was one. Avoid.


"After this mission, we should become masked Chartered Accountants..."