SCREAM OF THE WOLF (1974)

Director: Dan Curtis

Writers: Richard Matheson adapting the novella “The Hunter” by David Case

Producer: Dan Curtis

Cast: Peter Graves, Clint Walker, Jo Ann Pflug, Philip Carey, Don Megowan, Dean Smith, Lee Paul, James Storm, Bonnie Van Dyke, Brian Richards, Randy Kirby, Tom Dever, Vernon Weddle, Bill Baldwin, Orville Sherman, Douglas Bungert, Grant Owens, Chuck Hayward, Ken Stimson 

In Monterey County, California, a series of slayings leave the human victims horribly mutilated. Sheriff Vernon Bell (Philip Carey) asks local author and retired hunter John Weatherby (Peter Graves) to examine the tracks found at the death scenes. Despite his vast hunting experience, Weatherby can’t identify the species responsible for the killings. The path of the footprints seems to change from tracks of a four-legged, wolf-like beast to a bipedal creature before they disappear. The strange creature also has changed its scent. Another hunting authority and past friend of Weatherby’s, Byron Douglas (Clint Walker), is fascinated by the grisly deaths and the panic they instill in the community, but he refuses to offer any assistance tracking down the bloodthirsty creature. 

The Flashback Fanatic movie review 

During the 1970s heyday of the made-for-TV movie, the horror genre was well served. No one primed that bloody pump better than producer-director Dan Curtis. He made a name for himself as the creator of the afternoon Gothic soap opera series for ABC TV, Dark Shadows (1966-71). He then produced the massive ratings winner The Night Stalker (1972) and directed its hit sequel, The Night Strangler (1973). More Curtis-helmed, televised terrors would follow. In 1974 he collaborated again with his Stalker/Strangler scripter, Richard Matheson, to make the overlooked and peculiar Scream of the Wolf. 

At first it seems as though things are off to a frantic and familiar start. People are attacked at night and the police arrive with sirens blaring only to pick up the bloody pieces. However, unlike other contemporary horror films influenced by The Night Stalker, law enforcement, represented by Sheriff Bell, accepts that this is no ordinary series of crimes and admits to not having any idea what is responsible. Bell immediately seeks the help of experienced hunter John Weatherby. The relationship between the sheriff and our hunter hero is cordial. 

Aside from the challenge of trying to track and kill the murderous creature, the main conflict for protagonist John Weatherby is with his old hunting pal, Byron Douglas. They drifted apart when Weatherby settled into a more domesticated lifestyle as a writer. Byron has always been the more extreme of the pair in his hunting mania. Byron’s life philosophy is based on hunting. He thinks that life is never more precious than at the moment of potential death for both hunter and prey. Byron also thinks that society is emasculating, and he implies that this has happened to his old friend John. 

As the killings continue in rapid succession, the rumor is spreading that the killer may be a werewolf. This further amuses Byron and he enjoys the panic spreading throughout the community. Byron thinks that the civilized locals are actually made to feel more alive by their fear. Both John and Sheriff Bell become increasingly irritated with Byron’s lack of concern and refusal to help. 

John’s girlfriend, Sandy Miller (Jo Ann Pflug), has always been creeped out by Byron. She suspects that Byron is involved with the killings. When John tries to explain his old friend’s hunter philosophy, he recounts an old hunting experience that left Byron badly wounded by a killer wolf. This only increases Sandy’s suspicions about John’s old, hunting buddy. 

There is a very intriguing friction between the characters of John, Byron, and Sandy. Former friends John and Byron have gone their separate ways. Initially, we are led to believe it may simply be changing priorities in John’s life as he transitions from avid hunter to author. Sandy’s apprehension about Byron may be more personal than just her distaste with his hunting fanaticism. She fears that Byron may lure John away from the domestic security of their relationship. 

Others have speculated that there is a homoerotic aspect between the characters of John and Byron. Once I was made aware of that speculation, it makes everything about the behavior of those two characters seem much less arbitrary. Also in the context of the times this story takes place, that sexual undercurrent being either indulged or suppressed by those characters informs their behaviors and justifies their conflict. It is a rather edgy concern for a ’70s made-for-TV movie that really adds depth to the attitudes of John, Byron, and Sandy. 

Peter Graves and Jo Ann Pflug were familiar television faces of the era. Graves will always be remembered as espionage operative Jim Phelps in the CBS network television series Mission: Impossible (1966-73), as well as in its ABC network revival series (1988-90). Pflug previously starred in producer-director Dan Curtis’ The Night Strangler. 

Clint Walker was perfectly cast against type as eccentric and unsettling hunter Byron Douglas. Walker had a long history of playing heroes in Western films and as the star of the ABC network television Western series Cheyenne (1955-62). Walker seems to really enjoy himself as Byron. He displays a smug air of superiority and contrariness to all around him. Walker’s Byron likes baiting others with his insight into the local menace while withholding any assistance. Walker’s huge stature and the gleam in his eye when he vents Byron’s passion for hunting make him a very intimidating presence. 

An interesting bit of casting is another towering actor with some horror genre credentials. Don Megowan plays Grant, Byron’s hired hand. Megowan was the Gill-man on land in The Creature Walks Among Us (1956), had starred as the hero of another werewolf-centric movie in The Werewolf (1956), and portrayed the Frankenstein Monster in the 1958 unsold pilot for the proposed television series Tales of Frankenstein. 

As always, director Dan Curtis makes things interesting and energetic with his shot choices and camera moves. He is ably assisted by the music of his frequent composer, Robert Cobert. This results in a film that keeps me just as captivated with the dialogue scenes as with the killings. Its intriguing perspective is that of John Weatherby trying to figure out just what the hell he is dealing with, which is just how anyone would have to approach this bizarre situation in real life. We are not allowed to get ahead of the hero tracking down the menace. With its rapidly rising body count, elusive threat, and unique character dynamics, Scream of the Wolf is one of my favorite TV terrors.

THE CORPSE GRINDERS (1971)

Director: Ted V. Mikels

Writers: Arch Hall, Joe Cranston

Producer: Ted V. Mikels

Cast: Sean Kenney, Monika Kelley, Sanford Mitchell, J. Byron Foster, Warren Ball, Ann Noble, Zena Foster, Harry Lovejoy, Vincent Barbi, Ray Dannis, Earl Burnham, Drucilla Hoy, Charles ‘Foxy’ Fox, Stephen Lester, William Kirschner, Andy Collings, Curt Matson, Sherri Vernon, Mary Ellen Burke, George Bowden, Don Ellis, Mike Garrison, Richard Gilden 

Domestic cats are attacking their human owners. The ferocious felines are consumers of Lotus Cat Food. The secret ingredient in that brand of cat chow is human flesh, which turns pets into man-eaters. The corner-cutting managers of the Lotus Cat Food Company acquire their illegal additives from a local cemetery, a funeral home, and hired thugs who abduct street derelicts. The harvested bodies are fed into a corpse-grinding machine that mixes them with grain to produce that special feline delicacy. 

The Flashback Fanatic movie review 

Former magician and stage performer Ted V. Mikels had started his own film production company in Bend, Oregon making short films and documentaries. During the late 1950s, he had also done stunts for three Hollywood Westerns shot in Oregon. Once Mikels decided to start producing and directing his own feature films in the 1960s, he went the exploitation route making films with attention-getting titles and lurid posters that had to hook an audience looking for cheap thrills. The trick was to make cheap productions that could still live up to their genre hoopla. 

Operating outside of the Hollywood studio system meant struggling to scrape up funds to make feature films on incredibly low budgets. A great cost-saving measure for Mikels was having film-editing facilities in his own Glendale, California home that he called “The Castle.” Then Mikels’ live-in assortment of women he called his “castle ladies” would learn various film production duties by contributing their labor to his projects. During Mikels’ polygamous relationships with these women, he educated them in filmmaking techniques that they could use in their own film endeavors. 

It stands to reason that any director as independent and eccentric as this would make an oddball assortment of films. The quirks in a Ted V. Mikels film are usually as a result of aspiring to more than the lack of funds can provide. Nevertheless, a Ted V. Mikels film tried to check off the exploitation boxes to satisfy the drive-in crowd. This usually meant dredging up film tropes old and new realized in easily accessible locations and a few, small, studio-built sets. Many great films have been made with limited means. They used whatever they had access to and made the script and situations conform to those resources. How well a Ted V. Mikels film managed that sleight of hand usually determined its level of entertainment. 

Mikels’ most famous films are the ones blessed with the best titles: The Astro-Zombies (1968) and The Corpse Grinders. Those titles tell you exactly what your expectations should be and all those movies need to provide are lurid thrills. The challenge for Mikels was to pull that off on his miniscule budgets. The challenge for lovers of schlock is to justify our interest in these frugal productions. 

The Corpse Grinders has a title so unsavory that the only expectation for this film is to scrape the bottom of the bad-taste barrel. I find that to be a valid goal to strive for. Bad taste can be absolutely liberating for a filmmaker and the audience. Sometimes that can also become art if it has wit, a theme to explore, or a point to make.

In The Corpse Grinders, the motives of the films’ villains are as cost-conscious as the filmmakers: Do it on the cheap and still provide a profitable product. That makes perfect business sense, but that anything-for-a-buck mentality can lead to evil. While this exploitation quickie is not intent on feeding us any social message, its food for thought is that business interests are often not in the public interest. 

This may be the cheapest feature film Mikels ever made. Due to a combination of low budgets and strange wardrobe and decorating choices, Mikels’ films are always full of seedy atmosphere, but he has really outdone himself here. There are a few cramped, sparsely furnished sets. One set painted entirely white is meant to be a doctor’s hospital office furnished with little more than a small microscope suitable for a middle school biology class and a set of encyclopedias. Quincy, M.E. be damned, that’s all our surgeon and nurse protagonists need to figure out why the furious felines are using their owners’ throats for scratching posts. A few tombstones, a shallow hole in the ground, and fog machines on Mikels’ property represent a cemetery. The entire music score seems to be lifted from library tracks. Having a cast of unknowns also kept the costs down. 

What everyone remembers about this mad movie is the corpse-grinding machine and the economic ingenuity used to create it. For a whopping $38, this fiendish prop was built out of plywood and adorned with a big lever and blinking lights. A small conveyor belt passes the bodies into the front-end opening, within which we see spinning blades salvaged from a push lawnmower. At the other end of this crazy contraption, a mixture of hamburger and sawdust, representing the ground-up corpses and grain, oozes out into a grubby bucket. Bon appétit, kitties! 

While Mikels’ previous horror film, The Astro-Zombies, could boast of a few interesting names in the cast (John Carradine, Tura Satana, and Wendell Corey), The Corpse Grinders’ no-name cast is only distinguished by their characters’ eccentricities. Caleb (Warren Ball), the grave-robbing cemetery caretaker, is always gnawing on strips of beef jerky. His dotty companion, Cleo (Ann Noble), is always toting around a doll that she treats like her child. The nervous Maltby (J. Byron Foster), one of the villainous pair managing the Lotus Cat Food Company, expresses necrophilic urges. His cold-blooded partner in crime, Landau (Sanford Mitchell), is surprisingly protective of Tessie (Drucilla Hoy), the mute, one-legged, middle-aged woman employed at the cat food factory. Landau even manages to communicate with her using sign language (with gestures so repetitive that they probably translate as stuttering). All of these quirks are never elaborated on and serve no character motivation or plot purpose. They are not even exploited for broad humor. These antics are probably just meant to give these one-dimensional characters something to do, as there is nothing in the way of drama or character development going on here. 

Our heroic leads, Dr. Howard Glass (Sean Kenney) and his nurse and girlfriend, Angie Robinson (Monika Kelley), are driven to expose the cause of the cat attacks because we need a good-looking couple to root for. Since Angie’s own cat attacked Howard after eating Lotus Cat Food, I suppose it’s personal. I knew that Sean Kenney had starred in the very weird, sexploitation-horror flick The Toy Box (1971), but I was surprised to learn that he also had played the scarred, disabled, and mute Captain Christopher Pike in the two-part episode “The Menagerie” of the original Star Trek TV series (1966-1969). 

Served with cheap and sordid simplicity, I find The Corpse Grinders to be humble fare that has become an acquired taste. There is a cockeyed sense of humor seasoning this diabolical din-din that I can appreciate. When trying to turn a buck making cat food leads to grave robbing and murder, I can’t help but purr in satisfaction.

AMERICAN BEAUTY (1999)

Director: Sam Mendes

Writer: Alan Ball

Producers: Bruce Cohen, Dan Jinks

Cast: Kevin Spacey, Annette Bening, Thora Birch, Wes Bentley, Mena Suvari, Chris Cooper, Peter Gallagher, Allison Janney, Scott Bakula, Sam Robards, Barry Del Sherman, Amber Smith, Brenda Wehle, Lisa Cloud, Marisa Jaret Winokur, Dennis Anderson, Joel McCrary, Matthew Kimbrough 

42-year-old Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) has been employed ad writing at a magazine for the past 14 years. He is stuck in a joyless, middle class, suburban lifestyle with his career-obsessed, real-estate-agent wife, Carolyn (Annette Bening), and his emotionally distant, teenaged daughter, Jane (Thora Birch). When Lester meets his daughter’s beautiful, blonde classmate, Angela Hayes (Mena Suvari), Lester is smitten and has a midlife awakening. He has ongoing fantasies about young Angela and shirks his adult responsibilities. Lester’s new attitude exacerbates the dysfunction in the Burnham household. 

The Flashback Fanatic movie review 

So, this lover of the lowbrow is reviewing a film that won five Oscars including Best Picture? “Where the hell are my standards?” you scream. Well, it is a pretty old film by now and still an odd one after a quarter century. Er—and uh—well, it’s also kind of transgressive. That’s gotta count for something, right? And—uh—it’s just a great film, dammit! But fear not, for I shan’t start sipping tea with my pinky finger extended while I extol the virtues of prestigious cinema. Trust me. I shall soon resume reviewing my regularly scheduled selection of significant schlock. American Beauty has reinforced my value of being true to oneself. 

I remember first seeing American Beauty in the theater way back in 1999 and really enjoying it. It capped off a decade of indie films that were a relief from Hollywood blockbusteritus. The quirky and personal films getting noticed were welcome alternatives to franchises, generic action hero product, and evermore-bloated “high concept” effects shows trying to engage the video game crowd. While American Beauty, with its $15-million budget on a DreamWorks Pictures production and distribution deal, was hardly down-and-dirty, guerilla filmmaking, it was still made in the indie spirit by refusing to fit neatly into an easily marketed genre. The time was still ripe for another eccentric, challenging, and heartfelt movie. 

The moral in this film may seem obvious: Achieving status and maintaining a lifestyle does not always lead to happiness. However, that is a message that could not be shouted loud enough in the go-go ’90s. Much of America’s so-called freedom has always been about working hard to conform to the routines that will make the money needed to create an image that makes us feel worthy. Always striving to pass the judgment of others to feel accepted and admired is a trap. 

The central event in the story is the midlife crisis suffered by Kevin Spacey’s character. His Lester Burnham does his unfulfilling job for management that he has no respect for. His career is just a means to help provide for a family he feels disconnected from. His sudden infatuation with his daughter’s friend knocks Lester out of his midlife malaise. He is not yet so old that he can’t change, but time’s a-wastin.’ 

 

Lester begins to rebel by not giving a shit about going through the establishment motions in his life anymore. Now he can tell people exactly what he means and confront their own insincere behavior. I practically stand up and cheer when Lester quits his job while coercing his manager into giving him a decent severance package. Damn, this guy’s a slacker superhero! Then he immediately finds the least demanding job he can think of: flipping burgers like he did back in high school. We are soon treated to the ongoing fallout from this development at the family dinner table where Lester demonstrates that the domestic worm has turned. 

That will-they-or-won’t-they moment between Kevin Spacey’s middle-aged Lester and young Mena Suvari’s Angela really got to me. Everything is perfect: performance, pacing, and lighting complimented by the wonderful source music of Annie Lennox covering Neil Young’s “Don’t Let It Bring You Down” playing on the stereo. Helluva scene. It’s one last gasp of real movie magic before the following century’s cinema would pander to an attention-span-challenged audience with relentless shaky cam, quick cuts, and digital tweaking for practically every goddamn frame of “film.” 

That narration of Kevin Spacey’s character opening the film by letting us know he is already dead is novel, though not original. As director Sam Mendes himself acknowledges, Sunset Boulevard (1950) also began its dystopian look at the Hollywood lifestyle with narration from a dead character. It makes some satirical sense to use that same technique here in a picture about a different dystopian dead end located in American suburbia. It also imparts a bit of tension underlying the whole film leading to the protagonist’s death. 

All of the main adult characters in American Beauty begin this story locked into identities that keep them from being happy and true to themselves. Their issues result from a lack of self-esteem. Jane’s fellow cheerleader, Angela, is also well on her way to falling into the same adult trap of affecting an image and reputation that she thinks will make her better than ordinary. 

 

The two characters that clearly view their world and those around them are teenagers Jane Burnham and her next-door neighbor and classmate, Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley). They have their own issues due to the dysfunction of their families. Probably as a result of no emotional bonding and reassurance from her parents, Jane is dealing with her own sense of inadequacy as she is already saving her money for a “boob job.” The voyeuristic Ricky uses his video camera to capture the beauty that only he perceives in the real world. Ricky seems almost ethereal in his remote calm that has resulted from the emotional disconnect he has developed coping in the rigidly disciplined household commanded by his ex-Marine father, Col. Frank Fitts (Chris Cooper). 

All of this seems to be adding up to a dismal kitchen sink drama that can spill over into preachy moralizing. That is hardly the case here. Lester Burnham’s midlife rebirth exposes this film’s truths in amusing ways. It never devolves into a lifestyle farce, but it does create moments that are funny for being recklessly liberating. 

Of course Kevin Spacey won the Best Actor Oscar for a performance here that works because most of the time he seems subdued. His Lester Burnham character is established as repressed and seething with resentment about his life and family. Once he has his midlife attitude conversion, he indulges himself with youthful abandon and rejects any status-dictated responsibilities. However, there are still unresolved dissatisfactions in his home life that can break through that don’t-give-a-damn calm. It is the direction, writing, and cinematography that does the stylish heavy lifting while Spacey’s mundane sincerity rings true. 

There are many other fine performances. Annette Bening’s manic Carolyn becomes almost grotesque in her career-fixated fundamentalism. Thora Birch’s Jane goes beyond sadness to disaffection in her character’s lack of self-esteem. Birch would go on to star in my favorite film of the next century, that quirky delight Ghost World (2001). Wes Bentley exudes a calm confidence as Ricky Pitts that is as much of an influence on Lester’s new attitude as the Angela fixation. Chris Cooper’s intense performance as Ricky’s hard-ass, control-freak father gives us a character that is both despicable and pathetic. Finally, Mena Suvari’s vain and shallow Angela is funny, yet she surprises us with her vulnerability. 

American Beauty skewers the middleclass mainstream’s empty vanity. It does this all in a darkly humorous manner that can be quirky, distressing, and cathartic. It all ends by challenging us to accept a philosophy embracing truth and appreciating life experience rather than lamenting lost goals.

 

WARNING: COMMENTS CONTAIN SPOILERS!

BLOOD AND BLACK LACE (1964)

Director: Mario Bava

Writers: Marcello Fondato, Mario Bava, Giuseppe Barillà, Mary Arden (adapting dialogue into English)

Producers: Massimo Patrizi, Alfredo Mirabile

Cast: Cameron Mitchell, Eva Bartok, Thomas Reiner, Mary Arden, Arianna Gorini, Lea Lander (as Lea Krugher), Claude Dantes, Dante DiPaolo, Massimo Righi, Franco Ressel, Luciano Pigozzi, Francesca Ungaro, Harriette White Medin, Giuliano Raffaelli, Heidi Stroh, Enzo Cerusico, Nadia Anty, Mary Carmen (as Mara Carmosino), Goffredo Unger (uncredited), Calisto Calisti (uncredited), Romano Moraschini (uncredited)

A masked man in black brutally murders Isabella (Francesca Ungaro), a model at the Rome fashion house Christian Haute Couture. Many of the models and staff at the fashion house have secrets to hide. While Police Inspector Silvestri (Thomas Reiner) investigates, the killer claims more victims. Silvestri suspects one of the men who work at the fashion house or are having relationships with the models.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

The now-revered Italian director Mario Bava worked in many genres, but his horror films are what have received the most acclaim. He is also celebrated for originating the giallo film, that Italian subgenre of horror and suspense. Bava’s 1963 The Girl Who Knew Too Much is usually considered the first giallo film. However, it is his Blood and Black Lace, made the following year, which established the iconic stylistic template most associated with the genre. All of the traditional giallo elements are there: a black-gloved mystery killer; beautiful victims; prolonged stalk-and-kill set pieces; plenty of suspects and scandal in a posh environment; and the use of music, lighting, and editing that stylize the violence and terror.

Blood and Black Lace is must-see viewing for Mario Bava fans that showcases the director’s visual aesthetic. It was the signpost pointing the way for the giallo genre that would become increasingly popular in its native Italy and abroad by the 1970s. Bava and the film genre he initiated would inspire and influence Italian directors such as Dario Argento and Sergio Martino as well as Americans like Brian De Palma and John Carpenter.

It seems almost unthinkable that this pioneering film in this distinctive Italian genre was not successful in Italy at the time of its release. Despite some of its influences, such as the then-popular German krimi films (usually based on the crime thriller novels of British author Edgar Wallace), Blood and Black Lace may have been just a bit ahead of its time. The mystery aspect of the story is little more than a guessing game rather than a clue-laden plot. This is clearly an exercise in style over substance. Just as much as any Gothic horror film, the best giallo films are meant to disturb and excite with their atmosphere and menace.

One distinction that probably made the giallo an acquired taste was the lack of the sort of moral triumph concluding most typical horror and crime films at that time. Giallo films reveled in a world of glamorous sleaze, amoral ambitions, and sadistic violence. Representatives of law and order meant to solve the mystery and apprehend the culprit were not the main protagonists and were often ineffectual.

Another reason that Blood and Black Lace may have been off-putting was that there are no characters we can really bond with. They are all rather remote or secretive and conniving. This just confirms the cold and corrupt environment that makes the ongoing murders seem inevitable.

It is not surprising that Mario Bava would initiate this stylish and cynical genre. Bava had a strong streak of pessimism regarding the capitalistic, modern world. His later Bay of Blood (1971) is not only his most violent production and a direct influence on the American slasher film; it also seemed to vent his disdain for society’s amoral greed that consumes almost the entire cast. That pervasive pessimism seems to have its roots in Blood and Black Lace. Most of its main characters are corrupt or shamed and may be capable of anything. Their conflicts and secrets seem to be the catalyst for ongoing homicide, despite the best efforts of those enforcers of the social order, the police.

The reason that any of this engages the audience is its technique of presentation. Mario Bava had always been a great cinematographer, and his colorful and moody lighting here is every bit as striking as his earlier black-and-white classics. His visuals and shot choices tease us as much as the identity of the killer. It is Bava’s artistry that makes this grim tale of murder amid a cast of one-dimensional characters into a visceral experience for the viewers.

The biggest name in the cast is American star Cameron Mitchell as the fashion house co-director Massimo Morlacchi. He exudes a cold reserve that makes him seem just as suspect as anyone else. Mitchell made plenty of films in Europe, and this was the second of his three Bava-directed pictures. Mitchell and Bava seemed to really hit it off, and Mitchell considered Bava probably the greatest director he had ever worked work with. Mitchell admired Bava’s creativity and ingenuity in making good and interesting films despite budgetary limitations.

Eva Bartok also tops the cast list as the widowed Countess Cristiana Cuomo, the fashion house owner and business partner with Massimo Morlacchi. She appears to be all business and seems as remote a personality as just about every other character. Her performance becomes much more interesting as the film progresses and the plot develops. Blood and Black Lace would be the penultimate film in Bartok’s 20-year career of film acting in both the US and Europe.

If ever an actress went above and beyond the call of duty for a film, it was Mary Arden. Her character of model Peggy Peyton was subjected to probably more prolonged physical abuse than any other woman in film up to that time. While we take such physicality in movies for granted, this is all being performed in take after bruising take by Arden without a stunt double. I hope all of the pain and terror she expressed was just good acting. Arden was also nearly killed by the sharp latch of an automobile trunk lid that slammed down on her while filming a scene. The multilingual Mary Arden even pitched in to do the translation of the screenplay’s dialogue into English. After all of that injury and effort, Mary Arden never got paid!

Another lady in the cast deserving kudos for efforts way beyond her job description is Lea Lander. Billed as Lea Krugher in Blood and Black Lace, she plays the model Greta. A decade later Lander would act in Mario Bava’s Rabid Dogs (1974). That film’s post-production was not completed due to the bankruptcy proceedings resulting when one of the film’s financial backers died. Rabid Dogs went unfinished and unseen for almost a quarter century until Lea Lander took the initiative to help finance its DVD release. This would be worked on further by Mario Bava’s son Lamberto and grandson Roy along with producer Alfredo Leone to be released in 2002 as Kidnapped. Bravo to black-laced beauty Lea Lander! She not only graced a classic giallo, but she also resurrected Mario Bava’s most atypical and cynical film.

A key accessory to any giallo film hoping to make a stylish impression is the soundtrack. Carlo Rustichelli’s Blood and Black Lace score sets the pace for the musical flourishes that adorn the genre’s best. His main theme is sinister lounge music that is reprised throughout the film, often building up to horrific intensity. Rustichelli also scored two of director Bava’s Gothic horror classics: The Whip and the Body (1963) and Kill, Baby… Kill! (1966).

For the giallo curious, Blood and Black Lace is the perfect introduction. It is the trendsetting model of the genre designed to knock ‘em dead by that morbid maestro Mario Bava. So, what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? You can ditch the tuxes and gowns and just barge on into this sanguinary salon for a bloody good time.