Reflections on ... The Silent Scream (1979)

Recently watched: The Silent Scream (1979). Tagline: “Terror so sudden there’s no time to scream”. (Interestingly, this film is also sometimes called simply Silent Scream with no “The”). 

It’s a pulpy, no-frills and enjoyably old-fashioned proto-slasher with a “madwoman-in-the-attic” twist straight out of Jane Eyre. Basic premise: perky college student Scotty Parker (Rebecca Balding) missed out on campus accommodation, so seeks to rent a spare room – and of course, winds up lodging with the freaky Engels family: unnerving oddball teenage son Mason (Brad Rearden) and glowering ashen-faced, black-clad matriarch Mrs Engels (Yvonne De Carlo). Really, everything about them should have set alarm bells ringing, but Scotty isn’t exactly a deep thinker. 

/ Above: Yvonne De Carlo as Mrs Engels /

Anyway, what makes The Silent Scream irresistible is its cast: De Carlo, Cameron Mitchell and none other than iconic wraith-cheekboned scream queen Barbara Steele! I’m always fascinated by the vagaries of fame and the phenomenon of second-tier golden age Hollywood actors who never quite made the big bucks (or made bad investments), still had mortgage payments (or alimony payments), swallowed their pride and gamely made forays into the “disreputable” realm of horror and exploitation cinema in the seventies. (It may have been perceived as “demeaning” at the time, but we know better now). Think of the later careers of De Carlo, Aldo Ray, Ray Milland, Shelley Winters, Veronica Lake and Gloria Grahame. Or indeed the bizarro filmography of Mitchell, which encompasses Italian giallo (Mario Bava’s Blood and Black Lace (1963), no less), spaghetti westerns, blaxploitation, biker gang movies, disaster movies, martial arts movies, science fiction, no end of low-budget horror and even pornography (something called Dixie Ray Hollywood Star from 1983). As gruff Lieutenant McGiver, Mitchell’s face looks taut as a drum, and he seems to be wearing Tony Curtis’ wavy, grey-steaked pompadour toupée. 

Anyway, I’ve deliberately said almost nothing about Steele (pictured above), but rest assured she is absolutely riveting. The Silent Scream is easy to find online streaming for free. Below is the version I watched.

Reflections on ... Mirror, Mirror (1990)

 

Recently re-visited: teen-focused supernatural horror movie Mirror, Mirror (1990). 

If you’re roughly my age (Gen X), you probably have a vague recollection of catching this one on cable TV. When sulky, sensitive goth misfit Megan (Rainbow Harvest) and her mother Susan (Karen Black) relocate from Los Angeles to the suburbs, the mean girls at her new high school take an immediate dislike to her. (“Doesn’t she know punk is over?” one classmate sneers). But Megan’s new house comes with a demonic cursed mirror in her bedroom, which soon comes in handy … 

Like so many horror movies, Mirror, Mirror is indebted to Carrie (1976). (When the jock boyfriend of one of Megan’s tormentors asks, “What have you got against her?”, she snaps, “Lighten up! It’s just a joke. It’s not like we’re going to throw pig’s blood on her or anything!”). The fact that Mirror, Mirror was directed by a woman (Marina Sargenti) with a largely female cast and crew opens it up to feminist analysis. It boasts a fun supporting cast, including William Sanderson (who I always associate with Blade Runner) as Susan’s boyfriend and Yvonne De Carlo (Lily Munster herself!) as an antique shop proprietress. (De Carlo fully embraces this un-glamorous character part: in a moment worthy of Shelley Winters, we see her slurping take-away Chinese food and picking her teeth in close-up). Black’s eye-crossing, wig-wearing performance as the neurotic Susan anticipates Jennifer Coolidge. (Imagine Coolidge in White Lotus spluttering "That mirror is trying to kill me!"). There’s a fun twist ending. 

And the luminous Rainbow Harvest - painstakingly styled to evoke Winona Ryder as Lydia Deetz in Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice two years earlier - makes a compelling black leather-jacketed anti-heroine (and I deliberately say “anti-heroine”: part of what makes Mirror, Mirror interesting is that Megan becomes more complicated and less sympathetic as the film progresses). It’s a shame Harvest didn’t have a bigger career after this. Watch for a moment of foreshadowing when Black discards a cigarette butt in the kitchen garbage disposal – an omen for something horrific that happens later! Maybe it’s just me, but I yearned for a moment of Megan cranking up her ghetto blaster or Sony Walkman to find out what music she listens to. And there are no posters on her bedroom wall to indicate the bands she likes! What’s she into? The Cure? Siouxsie and the Banshees? Sisters of Mercy? Considering this was 1990 and she’s a California girl, maybe Jane’s Addiction? I demand to know!

Mirror, Mirror is easy to find streaming for free (I watched it on Prime. I bet it's on Tubi too).

The fabulous screencaps of Rainbow Harvest in Mirror, Mirror are via. 

Reflections on ... Blood Ceremony (1973) aka The Legend of Blood Castle

Recently watched: Blood Ceremony (1973) aka Ceremonia sangrienta aka The Legend of Blood Castle. Tagline: “A Nightmare Tale of Depravity!” 

This lush Spanish / Italian co-production features the following Gothic horror staples: vampires. Castles. A gypsy woman making ominous prophesies. Superstitious peasants. A procession of townspeople wielding torches through the forest at night (led by a naked boy on horseback). Tavern wenches. Nature, red in tooth and claw (we see falcons tearing apart their prey in grisly close-up). A coffin lined in sumptuous purple silk. Close-ups of knives and forks digging into blood-oozing raw steaks. Guttering black candles. Pentagrams. Candelabras. A cursed medallion. Heaving bosoms. Girls in sheer nightgowns. The sound of a rooster crowing on the soundtrack to indicate daybreak. 

The narrative is loosely inspired by the legend of Hungary’s Countess Elizabeth Báthory (also the basis of Hammer’s more famous Countess Dracula (1971) starring Ingrid Pitt). But director Jorge Grau surprises by draining the action of sensationalism, opting for an art-y, deliberately slow and meditative pace, exquisitely composed shots and an emphasis on ceremonies, rituals and superstitions. (Blood Ceremony clearly boasted a decent budget: the costumes, locations and cinematography are spectacular). At the centre is the haughty Marqués and Marquesa. (Think of them as a gloomy, corrupt and dysfunctional Gomez and Morticia). Handsome bearded Karl Ziemmer (Espartaco Santoni) loves his murderous pet falcons and banging out a tune on the clavichord (sometimes with bloody hands). Countess Erzsebeth Bathory (Lucia Bosè) is his icily self-contained black-clad Lady Macbeth-like wife. Italian actress Bosè – with her alabaster complexion, raven hair and drained, anemic beauty – is particularly striking. Bosè, of course, made two notable films (Story of a Love Affair (1950) and The Lady without Camelias (1953)) with her then-lover, Michelangelo Antonioni early in her career. Interestingly, her presence, the lingering, austere pacing and the focus on rich peoples’ elegant ennui suggest a horror movie by Antonioni. Blood Ceremony is currently streaming on YouTube. Jump on it in case it gets deleted!

Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: Berserk! (1967) on 20 November 2025

 

OK, so Halloween is over but let’s extend the horror vibe this November when the FREE monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (committed to Bad Movies for Bad People) presents ultra-kitsch, gloriously lurid British-made shocker Berserk (1967)! 

“This absurd suspense melodrama was the next-to-last film of Joan Crawford’s career. She’s cast as Monica Rivers (a typically glamorous Joan Crawford character name), owner and ringmistress of a circus where strange murders occur. In the very first scene, a tightrope walker falls to his death. Joan takes charge immediately, shooing away the paparazzi and sending out a contingent of clowns, who flap their arms to amuse and distract the audience. “We’re running a circus, not a charm school!” she points out, “and, most importantly, people have to be entertained!””

/ From High Camp: A Gay Guide to Camp and Cult Films Volume 2 (1997) by Paul Roen /

Never was a film more aptly titled – and boy, does it earn that exclamation point. Highlights to anticipate: 1) 62-year-old leading lady Joan Crawford (in her second last film) is on fearsome scary diva form as hard-as-nails circus ringmistress Monica Rivers (a serial killer is gruesomely picking-off her circus’ performers one by one). Crawford’s portrayal can be summarized as “lipstick over concrete.” And don’t even get me started on the insane auburn wiglet Her Serene Crawfordship wears, or the special “glamour lighting” that ensures a flattering dark shadow is cast under her chin at all times. 2) Anytime impossibly hunky Ty Hardin (Crawford’s love interest) takes his shirt off. (Hardin is so devilishly handsome he’s like a homoerotic Tom of Finland illustration came to life). Note also that Hardin’s death-defying tightrope act involves him wearing a face-obscuring hood, which enables a body double to do it all on his behalf! 3) Zaftig British sex goddess Diana Dors’ juicily bitchy performance (and her straw-like bouffant hairstyle) in a supporting role. 4) The plot is considerably padded out with circus performance footage (which you see in all its plodding entirety), but Phyllis Allan and her Intelligent Poodles are delightful! 5) Not a spoiler, but the abrupt, lunatic ending (just after the murderer exclaims, “I killed them ALL! I HAD to! Now I’m going to kill YOU!”) ensures the scriptwriters are freed from explaining how any of this could have been feasible! 

“Berserk! was a lurid tale of murder in the circus and while it offered little to challenge Crawford’s dramatic talent, she was still able to display here commendable figure in a leotard as ringmistress. “What about these?” she said, exhibiting her breasts to her producer Herman Cohen. “And no operations on ‘em, either.” She wore her own clothes in the film - “Save your money, Herm; I’ve been hustling clothes all my life” – but asked that Edith Head design the leotard.”

/ From Joan Crawford: A Biography by Bob Thomas (1978) / 

Join us at Fontaine’s on 20 November to embrace the full lunacy of Berserk! (over cocktails!). Reserve your seat by emailing bookings@fontaines.bar. Full details here. 

Lobotomy Room is the FREE monthly film club committed to cinematic perversity. Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge in Dalston. Numbers are limited, so reserve your seat via Fontaine’s site. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar. The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962) on 16 October 2025

 

Attention, sensationalism freaks! This October the FREE monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (devoted to Bad Movies for Bad People) ushers you into the Halloween season (or as we call it, “gay Christmas”) with a screening of The Brain That Wouldn’t Die! (Tagline: “Alive … without a body … fed by an unspeakable horror from hell!”). Thursday 16 October at Fontaine’s inDalston! 

Look, this insane 1962 horror b-movie has a terrible reputation and is routinely listed as one of the worst films ever made (and it was completed in 1959 but sat in a vault until 1962, which admittedly doesn’t bode well!). But in his essential 1996 book Slimetime: a Guide to Sleazy, Mindless Movies, Steven Puchalski calls Brain “a crisp little chuckle fest … dim-witted, sleazy and (unlike lots of fifties passion pitters) true to the silliness of its ad campaign.” To its credit, Brain features … a deranged scientist dabbling in God’s domain! A hideous misshapen mutant (played by 9-foot-tall carnival sideshow performer Eddie Carmel, who’d later be immortalised by Diane Arbus in the portrait “The Jewish Giant at Home with His Parents in the Bronx, N Y 1970”)! Burlesque scenes in a tawdry strip club (including two women rolling on the floor in a catfight)! And an unforgettable performance from Virginia Leith as the severed head of the title! Rest assured, consuming Fontaine’s excellent range of special offer £6 cocktails will improve the quality of Brain immeasurably! 

/ Virginia Leith in The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962) /

Reserve your seat by emailing bookings@fontaines.bar. More details on event page. 

ALSO: Fontaine’s is holding its first Halloween party for five years on Friday 31 October – and I am DJ’ing! Full putrid details to follow soon!

Lobotomy Room is the FREE monthly film club committed to cinematic perversity. Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge in Dalston. Numbers are limited, so reserve your seat via Fontaine’s site. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar. The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

Reflections on ... The Substance (2024)

 

/ Demi Moore in The Substance (2024) /

Hagsploitation truly is the horror sub-genre that keeps on giving. Sparked by the unexpected success of 1962’s What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? in the 1960s and 70s, maturing female stars of golden age Hollywood extended their careers by swallowing their pride, embracing their inner scream queen and plunging into exploitation shockers: think of Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Tallulah Bankhead, Olivia de Havilland, Agnes Moorehead and Shelley Winters starring in the likes of Strait-Jacket, Hush … Hush … Sweet Charlotte, Berserk, Lady in a Cage, Die! Die! My Darling, Dear Dead Delilah and especially the “question movies” Whoever Slew Auntie Roo?, What’s the Matter with Helen? and What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? 

Roaring back from career doldrums (I last remember her playing Miley Cyrus’ mother in 2012), 61-year-old Demi Moore finds herself in a similar position in director Coralie Fargeat’s grisly and stylish satire The Substance. In a gutsy, exposed (in every sense) performance, Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle, a middle-aged television celebrity abruptly fired by ageist and sexist network executive (Dennis Quaid, really chomping the scenery). Despondent, Elisabeth takes desperate measures to rejuvenate her “best self” with a mysterious unregulated black market scientific procedure called The Substance … and things swiftly unravel. 

Characterized by stunning art direction and a visceral sound design that emphasizes every repulsive squelching noise, The Substance ratchets up maximum dread and offers a goldmine of knowing movie references: Basket Case. Carrie. Death Becomes Her. The Elephant Man. The Shining. Every single David Cronenberg “body horror” flick but particularly The Fly. Thematically, it reminded me of two specific b-movies from the late 1950s: The Wasp Woman and The Leech Woman, in which the anti-heroine experiments with science (or voodoo) to restore youth and beauty with monstrous consequences (and – it must be noted - these films make their point with a fraction of The Substance’s budget and two hour-and 40-minute running time). 

The Substance is bound to be divisive. There was multiple “walk outs” when I saw it yesterday. Does it critique society's youth fixation or wind up reaffirming it? And has Fargeat lost control of the material by the ultra-gory splatter fest finale? However you cut it, it’s a wild ride and destined for cult status.

Reflections on ... The Deliverance (2024)

 

Recently watched: Netflix’s The Deliverance (2024). Tagline: “Every family has its demons.” 

Directed by the reliably juicy and lurid Lee Daniels (the filmmaker best known for Precious (2009) and The Paperboy (2012)), it begins as a gritty urban drama (complete with Lil’ Kim on the soundtrack) about poverty, abuse, alcoholism, and racism as we watch the troubled African American Jackson family (mother, three kids and grandmother) hoping for a fresh start by moving into a new home in blue collar Pittsburgh. But within no time, it becomes apparent the house is cursed, and The Deliverance shifts tone into berserk, traumatic down-and-dirty horror in the tradition of The Exorcist (1973) or Amityville Horror (1979). (Or more accurately, The Deliverance is like an update or variation of Abby, the 1974 Blaxploitation version of The Exorcist). All the demonic possession horror movie tropes are present and correct: possessed children scuttle up the walls. Characters suddenly adopt growling, guttural voices or speak in tongues or develop stigmata on their hands. A cross on the wall bursts into flame. When someone is sprinkled with holy water, they scream “It burns!” 

Is The Deliverance silly and cliched? Sure, and the reviews have been savage, but if you keep your expectations low it’s also a blast. And the acting is exceptional: Andra Day is ferocious as tough, beleaguered single mom Ebony Jackson, as is Mo’Nique as a no-nonsense social worker. But it’s Glenn Close - gamely sporting wig and make-up choices pitched somewhere between Tammy Faye Bakker and Rachel Dolezal - as flamboyant born again grandmother Alberta (her wildest role since playing J D Vance’s Mamaw in Hillbilly Elegy) who steals the whole thing. Alberta is the kind of part Shelley Winters or Susan Tyrrell once might have played and the way Close attacks it is pure, gleeful hagsploitation. My favourite scene: the three generations of Jackson women (grandmother, mother and granddaughter) braiding each other’s hair while watching 1967 camp classic Valley of the Dolls on TV and reciting the “Broadway doesn't go for booze and dope” dialogue off by heart. But weirdly, for such a cine-literate family, none of them seems to have watched The Exorcist!

Reflections on ... MaXXXine (2024)

Recently watched: MaXXXine (2024). Tagline: “She’s gonna be a star no matter what it takes!” 

MaXXXine, of course, represents the hotly anticipated concluding chapter of the juicy elevated horror trilogy beginning with X (2022) and the prequel Pearl (2022) by director Ti West and leading lady Mia Goth. I’ve been yearning to see this one for what felt like an eternity. Its trailer (soundtracked by the Laura Branigan classic “Self-Control”) was so tantalizing it tormented me! We watched MaXXXine last weekend (its opening weekend) and it was - OK! I felt like I was willing it to be better. Of the three films, MaXXXine is definitely the slightest and flimsiest entry. Maybe my expectations were unrealistically high and the remarkable Pearl (which I consider a modern masterwork) set an impossibly high bar for this follow-up. 

Anyway, there is still much to enjoy. Set in 1985 Los Angeles, MaXXXine unfolds against a backdrop of satanic panic paranoia, the rise of Tipper Gore’s censorious Parents Music Resource Centre, Ronald Reagan’s presidency and the Night Stalker’s reign of terror. Goth returns as driven, burning-with-ambition porn starlet Maxine Minx. Now 33, she knows it’s now or never if she’s ever going to transition from skin flicks into legit cinema (well, a low-budget slasher movie entitled Puritan II in this case). “In this industry, women age like bread not wine” she laments. But just as stardom finally seems within Maxine’s grasp, her friends start getting gruesomely picked-off one by one by a serial killer … 

MaXXXine boasts an authentically scuzzy, grungy discount bin VHS vibe. The soundtrack pumps with 80s tunes (ZZ Top. Frankie Goes to Hollywood. “Obsession” by Animotion. Kim Carnes’ “Bette Davis Eyes.” John Parr’s theme tune to St Elmo’s Fire. And yes, Laura Branigan). Aficionados of 1980s trash cinema will revel in West’s references to the likes of Savage Streets (1984), Brian De Palma’s Body Double (1984), Vice Academy (1989), Angel (1984) and Avenging Angel (1985). Goth is a riveting, singular presence and one of THE great actresses currently working (The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw aptly called her the Judy Garland of horror). MaXXXine is a pulpy, grisly down-and-dirty summer thriller – just don’t expect another Pearl!

Reflections on ... The Children (1980)

 

Recently watched: gleefully cheap, nasty and enjoyable exploitation flick The Children (1980). Tagline: “Something terrifying has happened to … The Children.” 

It was free to stream on Amazon Prime (as well it should be) and their synopsis is more succinct than anything I could come up with: “A nuclear-plant leak turns a busload of children into murderous atomic zombies with black fingernails.” 

Yes, the contemporary reviews were scathing (The Orlando Sentinel termed the cast “the ugliest bunch of folks we've seen assembled on any screen at any one time” and The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette accurately but cruelly noted that the children’s charred victims resemble “leftover pepperoni pizza, complete with black olives and anchovies”). 

But seen today, The Children looks like a prime example of irresistible low-brow drive-in fare complete with gore, violence, bad special effects and the occasional glimpse of bare breasts. And there is artistry here: as the It Came from Beyond Pulp blog perceptively argues, “once night falls, [director Max Kalmanowicz’s] true gifts come into play. Under cover of near-darkness, he exhibits an almost supernatural mastery of simple, evocative, and scary-as-hell shot framing, shock reveals, and pacing. He doesn’t make the mistake, common in the slasher genre, of overlighting his shots: the lighting here is the familiar blindness-inducing pitch black of a moonless night, in which headlights, flashlights, and candles illuminate just enough to remind you of how cavern-dark everything else is. It’s here, in the dark, where he uses his scary kids brilliantly. Smiling, arms outstretched, calling “mommy, mommy” in their piping voices, they loom out of the blackness like pretty little angels of death: this is the single scariest image I can remember from any horror film.” 

Unsurprisingly, The Children’s cast is mainly unknowns, but one woman felt vaguely familiar: Gale Garnett (who delivers a very broad, soap opera-style performance). She was the singer of 1964 hit "We'll Sing in the Sunshine", which I remember being ubiquitous on the radio when I was a kid.

The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club ... Strait-Jacket (1964) on 18 January 2024

 

Considering campy horror masterpiece Strait-Jacket turns sixty this month (it was released on 19 January 1964), it’s only fitting that it’s the first Lobotomy Room presentation of the New Year!

Call it “hagsploitation” or “psycho-biddy”, Strait-Jacket (directed by low-budget trash maestro William Castle – one of John Waters’ primary influences) is a stark, vicious little b-movie featuring a truly berserk and mesmerizing performance from bitch goddess extraordinaire (and perennial Lobotomy Room favourite) Joan Crawford as a deranged axe murderess! If you liked What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) or Hush … Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), you’ll LOVE Strait-Jacket! In fact – and I appreciate this is a controversial opinion – I’d argue Strait-Jacket is the superior film. Join us at Fontaine’s on Thursday 18 January and I’ll explain why over cocktails! But take note – as the original poster exclaimed, “Warning! Strait-Jacket vividly depicts axe murders!”

Lobotomy Room is the FREE monthly film club devoted to Bad Movies for Bad People. Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge in Dalston. Numbers are limited, so reserving in advance via Fontaine’s website is essential. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar. The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

“As a movie, Strait-Jacket is no better than adequate. As myth however, it’s something else again. For homosexuals this is a remarkably resonant film. Few images could be more iconic than Joan Crawford as the ultimate castrating mom: an axe murderess who carries a weapon which has a handle that seems to grow longer with each successive reel. Add to this the fact that she’s all dolled up in forties finery, including a shoulder-length hairstyle and a flashy flowered dress. Her mouth is a livid, lipsticked slash. To complete the ensemble, she sports a set of charm bracelets which clank and tinkle ominously whenever she’s hefting her hatchet.”

/ From High Camp: A Gay Guide to Camp and Cult Films, Vol 2 by Paul Roen (1997) / 

“Strait-Jacket continued Joan Crawford’s descent into grand guignol. She played an axe murderess in the film by William Castle, who had achieved fame by dangling skeletons over audiences and wiring seats with electrical charges. Joan was paid $50,000 and a percentage of the profits, which were considerable, but the film seemed to lower her reputation.”

/ From Joan Crawford: A Biography by Bob Thomas (1978) /

“After seeing What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? fifteen times, [William] Castle dreamed of hitting the big time, of working with stars like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. One evening at a party in Beverly Hills, he had the good fortune to be introduced to Crawford. “He almost fell at her feet,” said writer Hector Arce. “He told her he had a script that he had written specifically for her. It was called Strait-Jacket. It was written by the man who wrote the Hitchcock classic Psycho. “I’m listening, Mr. Castle,” said Joan … After Crawford read Strait-Jacket, she called the director. The woman was supposed to age from thirty to fifty. Joan wanted to make the character younger, to lop off five years at each end. Castle agreed. He also said yes to her salary, percentage and contract demands.”

/ From Bette & Joan: The Divine Feud (1989) by Shaun Considine /

[Crawford was approximately 59 at the time (her precise birth year is disputed –somewhere between 1904 and 1908) so in the opening epilogue, she’s playing a woman of 25].

Sure, Strait-Jacket is a gruesome serial killer exploitation flick – but deep down, is the real subject motherhood? Let’s have a heated debate on Thursday 18 January!

 

Yes! Come see Joan Crawford wearing the harshest jet-black wiggiest wig ever committed to celluloid at Fontaine’s bar in Dalston on 18 January! 

Full putrid details here. 

Reflections on ... New Year's Evil (1980)

 

Staying in tonight? Want some thematically appropriate festive viewing? I recommend grisly low-budget slasher flick New Year’s Evil (1980). Tagline: “Don’t dare make new year’s resolutions … unless you plan to live!” In Los Angeles, glamorous hard-boiled celebrity DJ and television’s first lady of rock’n’roll Blaze Sullivan (Roz Kelly) is hosting “Hollywood Hotline”, a live televised coast-to-coast New Year’s Eve countdown. Viewers are encouraged to phone in to vote for their favourite New Wave song of the year - but one of the callers is a misogynistic serial killer calling himself “Evil”, who threatens to murder a “naughty girl” as each time zone hits midnight – culminating with Blaze herself!

What distinguishes New Year’s Evil is its focus on the punk subculture. Considering it was filmed in LA in 1980, the mind boggles at the actual bands the filmmakers could have feasibly utilized for the musical sequences: X, The Screamers, the Germs, the Zeros, The Weirdos! The presence of any of these would make New Year’s Evil a valuable time capsule. But no – we see only two appalling ersatz punk bands (nonentities Shadow and Made in Japan), and at tedious length. The film’s received wisdom about how punk rockers behave (they are troublemakers with piercings and Mohawks who mosh and stick their tongues out a lot) is unintentionally hilarious. New Year’s Evil also fails to clarify why hardened young hardcore punk fans are so rabidly enthusiastic about sequin-clad middle-aged Blaze. Is it because she exhorts things like “It’s time to spin out and boil your hair!” while wielding a feather boa?

Which brings us to Roz Kelly. In her brief heyday, she was best known for portraying Pinky Tuscadero, Fonzie’s tough cookie girlfriend in seventies sitcom Happy Days. Her screen presence was certainly … um … distinctive. Whether playing Pinky, Anthony Franciosa’s brassy secretary Flaps (yes – Flaps!) in Curse of the Black Widow (1977), cavorting in Paul Lynde’s infamous 1976 Halloween special or indeed here as Blaze, Kelly is consistently abrasive, brittle and borderline hostile. Her bizarre acting choices are perhaps the scariest aspect of New Year’s Evil! 

Watch it for free on YouTube.

The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: The Leech Woman (1960) on 21 September 2023

 

Are you anxious about the specter of old age? Do you dread the inevitable ravages of time? Honey, we all do! Let’s watch a movie that exacerbates those fears! (To clarify, I mean aging of the female variety! A man ageing is entirely fine, obviously!). 

Yes! Join us at Fontaine’s cocktail bar in Dalston on Thursday 21 September when the FREE monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club (devoted to Bad Movies for Bad People) presents ultra-trashy 1960 exploitation movie The Leech Woman! (Tagline: “Her evil jungle-born secret of eternal youth … drained the love and life from every man she trapped!”). 

The Leech Woman opens with suave endocrinologist Dr Paul Talbot (hunky Phillip Terry – an ex-husband of Joan Crawford!) bickering with his embittered, haggard and alcoholic older wife June (Coleen Gray, best remembered for co-starring opposite Tyrone Power in disturbing 1947 noir Nightmare Alley). We know June is evil because she’s wearing one of those Cruella de Vil-style fox fur stoles with the heads still attached). 

/ Out of what terrifying jungle rites had come her awesome secret – for prolonging life – and regaining youth and beauty? Estelle Helmsley as Malla /

They are interrupted by the arrival of Dr Talbot’s mysterious new patient – a shriveled ancient-looking woman called Malla (Estelle Helmsley) who claims to be 150 years old and to know the secret of restoring lost youth – but first they must accompany her back to her ancestral village in Africa. And ominously, Malla hisses to June, “You are the one in my dreams of blood!”  What could possibly go wrong? 

/ Every victim makes her young … beautiful … and more dangerous than before! Coleen Gray as June Talbot /

There are voodoo rituals. Human sacrifice. Stock footage of screeching monkeys and hissing snakes. Quicksand. But weirdly, no leeches! Spaces are limited, so reserve your seat now! 

Lobotomy Room Goes to the Movies is the FREE monthly film club devoted to cinematic perversity! Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge in Dalston! Numbers are limited, so reserving in advance via Fontaine’s website is essential. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar. The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.

Full details on event page.