Splatter Giallo...Hecho En Espana!

YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO TO TEXAS FOR A CHAINSAW MASSACRE!

Pieces

1982



IT'S EXACTLY WHAT YOU THINK IT IS!

Two nights ago, I finally experienced a film that I should have seen a long time ago: Juan Piquer Simon's Mil Gritos Tiene la Noche, better known as Pieces.  Co-written by producer Dick Randall and John Shadow (which may or may not be yet another alias for Aristide Massaccesi, more later on), Pieces is a magnum opus of exploitation that the trailer above only hints at.

In 1942 Boston, a boy is chastised by his mother for doing a jigsaw puzzle of a naked woman.  She sends him from the room to fetch a sack in which to dispose of the offending pastime.  He instead returns with a large axe and proceeds to do away with her.  He is busy cutting her up with a handsaw when the police arrive, drawn by a neighbour who heard the mother's death throes.  They find the boy whimpering in a closet, babbling about the large man who broke in and they escort him from the house.

Forty years later, the man the boy has grown into begins once again to build the nudie puzzle...and complement it with a puzzle of his own: The pieces of numerous co-eds, gained through chainsaw dismemberment.  The cops are called in to solve the case...and away we go.

What follows is a crass piece of gratuitous nudity and gore that is balletic in its' prurient brilliance.  The black-gloved, trenchcoated killer stalks the campus, miraculously invisible in all his movements, carving up half-undressed girls in dark corners (and broad daylight!) with a bright yellow chainsaw that he even manages to sneak into an elevator with an unsuspecting victim.

Pieces is exploitation heaven.  Blood flows copiously, breasts and a penis are proudly displayed and not one frame tries to be anything other than gratuitous.  That is the film's purpose: lowbrow entertainment elevated to something more simply because how true to its' intention Pieces is.  Christopher George chows down on a cigar in every frame.  His real-life wife, Lynda Day, is the tennis pro/cop who goes undercover to catch the madman.  Ian Sera plays the cocky college student that George enlists to help with the case, against the wishes of his partner (played by Frank Brana).

Although often classified as a slasher film, Pieces is more readily identifiable as a giallo.

Slasher films are often noted for their simple plotlines, masked killers, and use of the character commonly known as the Final Girl.  The usual characteristics of the Final Girl are her "virginal" nature (she rarely has a nude scene, has sex or partake in drugs or alcohol), her screen time occupies the bulk of the picture, and she is personally responsible for dispatching (or almost dispatching) the killer in the final reel.  Friday The 13th, Halloween, Scream, et. al. are responsible for contributing to the definitions of a slasher film.

As discussed in an earlier column, the giallo has its' origins in Italy, features a black-gloved killer whose identity is most often obscured by keeping identifying characteristics off-camera, elaborate and gory murder sequences involving shiny cutting instruments, off-kilter logic, and a distinctly European presentation of sex and nudity.  Great examples are Profondo Rosso and Lo Squartatore di New York, along with our two giallo Nasties, Tenebre and Blood Bath.

In Pieces, most of the screen time is given to the setpieces: the killer stalking, a topless girl either fleeing or ignorant of what is coming up behind her...and deep crimson liquid flying in all directions when the two collide, a sure sign that we are in giallo territory.  There is no Final Girl.  While Lynda Day's character is a definite candidate, she doesn't appear for the first time until halfway through the picture.  The character who comes up being the focus isn't Christopher George's cop, either.  It's Ian Sera's portrayal of ladies man Kendall that comes closest to the role of Final Girl, and his carousing with numerous females (including displaying his penis for the audience in one scene) negates his being Final Girl material.  Finally, (SPOILER ALERT) neither Day nor Sera is the killer's dispatcher.

Slasher film scholars (I'm looking at you, Jim Harper) take note: Mil Gritos Tiene la Noche is a prime example of giallo, made more impressive due to its' being hecho en Espana.

Now here's the thing that's been driving me bonkers: Authorship of the treatment that director Juan Piquer Simon turned into the screenplay.  Writing credits are given for producer Dick Randall and one "John Shadow".  Numerous sources report that John Shadow is one of the many aliases used by Aristide Massaccesi, best known as Joe D'Amato, director of two Nasties and one of the legends of Eurosleaze filmmaking.  What complicates things is the existence of a John W. Shadow, writer/director of Microscopic Liquid Subway To Oblivion.  This John W. Shadow was married to one-time Miss Teen Sweden Ewa Aulin, star of Microscopic Liquid Subway, from 1968 to 1972.  In 1973, Ms. Aulin starred in La Morte Ha Sorriso All'Assassino, aka Death Smiles On A Murderer, directed by Aristide Massaccesi, the only film Joe D'Amato ever signed with his real name.  I have never heard of D'Amato being married at any point in his too-brief life.  The relationship between Shadow and D'Amato is too close (due to the linkage of Ms. Aulin) for one to make a definitive call on authorship without ironclad evidence from someone involved in the production.  The Pieces DVD (an amazing 2-disc set from Grindhouse Releasing) contains an interview with Juan Piquer Simon where the director is said to confirm D'Amato's involvement...except I watched that 55-minute interview twice and never heard his name mentioned.  Simon states that he was given a 15-page treatment that he turned into a screenplay.  He does not state who wrote the treatment and claims sole credit for the shooting script.  SO, until I find some information stating conclusively that D'Amato was involved (which I hope to find - as a fan of the man I'd love to be able to include this in his filmography) the debate will rage on.

I LOVED this movie and I give it a hearty recommendation to you.  Now I need to figure out which Nasty is next.  I just got a copy of Delirium in the mail, so the list of hard-to-find Nasties just got a little shorter.  I'll be back with you soon.  Just don't get on an elevator with anyone who keeps their hands behind their back.  They may be holding a chainsaw.  I'll heed that advice.  Because my name's Justin.  JustinCase.

The Lay Of The Land (Of The Dead)...Part 2!

At the beginning of this endeavour, I presented a list of the rarer, harder-to-find titles that I knew would present a problem in acquisition.  I am pleased to say that this list is now much shorter.  My personal collection of Nasties has grown to include twenty-one films, nearly a third of the list.  But there remain nineteen titles that are either:

A) Unavailable for rental.
B) Out of print and rare.
and in at least one case
C) Never released uncut in the United States.

And there are whispers.  Whispers of a film intended for the list that fell through the DPP's fingers because of the thing that plagued low-budget exploitation from its' humble beginnings: alternate titles.  I'll get back to this in a minute.

Here are the nineteen films that have thus far eluded me.  Some are quite easy to obtain.  Why don't I list those first:

Blood Rites aka The Ghastly Ones
Love Camp 7
and Night Of The Bloody Apes are on DVD from Something Weird video and are still in print.
The Driller Killer is available on DVD from several companies, because the film lies in the public domain.
Forest Of Fear, aka Bloodeaters is on DVD from Televista (as Toxic Zombies) and it isn't too tough to track down.
Island Of Death is on DVD from Image and, while I believe it is now out of print, it isn't too hard to find, although (like Love Camp 7) the price is inexplicably higher than other similar films.
Pranks aka The Dorm The Dripped Blood is also available on DVD from Jef Films and not too hard to locate.
SS Experiment Camp is available on DVD from Shriek Show (as SS Experiment Love Camp).
The Witch Who Came From The Sea is on DVD from Subversive Cinema and again, is relatively easy to track down.

These nine films are cake.  Relatively low pricetags, copies in abundance.  I'm not worried about locating these.  (Although having written that, at least one of them will almost assuredly elude me.)

Then there are the out-of-print, VHS-if-you're-lucky films.  Most of these forgotten relics haven't received a DVD release and may never.  If I can track these down, I'll feel like I've won something:

Delirium aka Psycho Puppet.  Out of print, VHS only, Paragon Video.
Human Experiments.  Out of print, VHS only, VidAmerica.
Night Of The Demon.  Out of print, DVD and VHS, Miracle Pictures.
Nightmare Maker aka Night Warning.  Out of print, VHS only, Thorn/EMI/HBO Video.
Nightmares In A Damaged Brain aka Nightmare aka Blood Splash.  Out of print, VHS only, Continental Video (as Nightmare).  (Code Red is working on releasing an uncut DVD, but so far it has not appeared.)
Possession.  Out of print, DVD and VHS, Anchor Bay.
The Slayer.  Out of print, VHS only, Marquis Video.  (The double-feature cassette that pairs The Slayer with Scalps is edited to make both films fit.  The Marquis release is the whole film and it is extremely rare.)
Terror Eyes aka Night School.  Out of print, VHS only, Warner/Key Video.

These eight are diamonds buried in coal, and it may take some work to bring them home.  One more and we're all caught up with Nasties:

Expose`.  Released in the US as The House On Straw Hill in an edited version, the only homegrown British Nasty is tough to track down.  Televista is said to have released a Region 1 DVD, but it has never materialized.  As far as I know, the ONLY uncut release is the original VHS Nasty released by Intervision in the UK in 1979.  My goal: Track down that tape, get it transferred to NTSC, Enjoy.

Expose` is the Holy Grail of Video Nasties.  So that's eighteen and that completes the list.  Every other title is available for rental or already in my personal collection.  So what is the nineteenth film?  This is where the rumors and confusion, the whispers of the ether, the film geek's paranoia comes into play.

It all begins in the 1970s.  Made in 1973, a low-budget pseudo-snuff film titled The Last House On Dead End Street hit grindhouse theatres four year later.  The credits were packed with pseudonyms, the origins of the film questionable.  No one seemed to know who had made the film and whether or not the deaths it depicted were real or staged.  Legend has it that the original running time was three hours...and that this long cut, titled The Cuckoo Clocks Of Hell, is still housed in a New York film lab waiting to be paid for.  Its other alternate title: The Fun House, incredibly close to the 1981 Tobe Hooper film The Funhouse, which was seized but not successfully prosecuted.

So this is the rumor: The Last House On Dead End Street was intended to be on the Nasties list but was confused with The Funhouse and escaped being targeted.  I have no substantial evidence to back this up (that's what makes it a rumor, derp), but the idea is certainly attractive.  Dead End (shortening it to Last House would cause too much confusion with the Craven/Cunningham classic that did indeed make the list) would fit nicely on the list: a low-budget American horror film trading on shock value and pseudo-snuff promotion techniques that was controversial in its' own right.  Whether or not the rumor is true, this is a film I must get my hands on.  There were at least four VHS releases (some censored, some not), but the definitive version is the out of print Barrel Entertainment 2-Disc DVD set released in 2002.  As expected, this is a pricey item, but I am so intrigued I will probably end up shelling out when I finally get some folding money.

So there you have it: The 19 Movies that plague my thoughts.  It's like an itch that costs money to scratch, but is slightly more legal than crack and smack.

So scour your local video store, flea market and (dare I say it) antiques mall.  I sure will.  One never knows where they might find a lost treasure, so my eyes will always be peeled.  Because my name's Justin.  JustinCase.

Gut-Ripping Immortals!

Video Nasty #10

Don't Go Near The Park

1979

IT'S THE LAST PLACE YOU'LL EVER PLAY!

THEY WERE CURSED TO ETERNAL LIFE AT THE COST OF THEIR SOULS!

Alternate Titles: Nightstalker, Curse Of The Living Dead
NTSC Running Time: 83:23

Directed by Lawrence D. Foldes

Written by Linwood Chase and Foldes, from a story by Chase

Produced by George Foldes & Lawrence D. Foldes

Starring: Tamara Taylor, Meeno Peluce, Barbara Bain, Crackers Phinn, Linnea Quigley, Aldo Ray

Body Count: 5, plus an exploding van full of scumbags.

Availability: Region 1 DVD from Dark Sky Films.

BBFC Status

Why it's a Nasty: Attempted rape and gore!

What was cut: Nothing, it was never released in a cut form.

Current UK Status: Uncut version was awarded an 18 certificate on January 31, 2006.

UK Availability: Region 2 DVD available from Anchor Bay.  Original 1981 VHS released by Intervision.

Don't Go Near The Park was seized, but escaped prosecution.

Why didn't I think of including the trailer with the review sooner?  Derp.

Although it is semi-notable for being one of scream queen Linnea Quigley's earliest films (the opening credits say "Introducing"), Don't Go Near The Park is strictly amateur-hour, a film that, if it was never featured on Mystery Science Theatre 3000, damn well should have been.  The script is atrocious, the pacing jumpy, the editing flawed.  That doesn't mean there isn't fun to be had, however.

Here's the setup: 12,000 years ago, a prehistoric band of humans living in Griffith Park cursed two of their own, Tra and Gar (Barbara Bain and "Crackers Phinn", a nom de film for minor TV actor Robert Gribbin, respectively), to age rapidly and never die as punishment for eating the tribe's children for the purpose of stealing their youth.  (You with me so far?)  Their only way out: Wait 12,000 years (one full rotation of the Zodiac, according to the rotting matriarch) and then sacrifice a virgin who is half-mortal and half of their tribe.  If they can accomplish this, the cannibalistic pair will gain the eternal youth they have been seeking.

11,984 years later, Gar marries and has a child with Linnea Quigley, whose character is never named.  They name the child Bondi and Gar dotes on her, ignoring his wife, who served her purpose as soon as the child was born.  Bondi is a daddy's-girl who has no idea that all her father wants is to kill her when she turns 16.  He gives her an amulet for her Sweet 16, has a horrible fight with her mother at the party, and he leaves.  Bondi is abducted by some creeps in a van who try to rape her.  Her father hears her cries for help through the amulet, sends the van careening off a bridge to a fiery explosion...and teleports Bondi (Tamara Taylor) to the side of the road, from which she makes her way into the park of the title and hooks up with some other runaway kids: Nick (Meeno Peluce), an 8-year-old con artist and Cowboy, a teen boy Bondi crushes on.  Also in the park is Tra, who (like Gar) feeds on entrails of local children to retain her youth.

Will Gar and Tra sacrifice Bondi to their ancient deity and capture eternal youth, reversing the ravages of time once and for all?

Don't Go Near The Park is not a classic.  But like most movies, it has its' charms, and this film's charms are named Meeno Peluce.  Upon first discovering Bondi asleep in the abandoned ranch house the runaways call home, he tries to put his hand in her shirt.  When she wakes up and slaps at him, his response is genius:

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were alive."

Balls.  Big brass balls for an eight-year-old, and a screamingly funny moment in a film that is otherwise a few ripples of muffled chuckles.  I also dug the freeze-frame style the film takes when Bondi falls into a coffin in a dream sequence.

Other than that, a little bit of gore and a little bit of gratuitous nudity, all very tame.  No wonder they didn't sic the OPA on this film: it would have been laughed out of the Old Bailey as harmless.  When finally presented to the BBFC in early 2006, they didn't snip a frame.  Not that it would have changed much, there wasn't much to trim anyway.  As I tell myself whenever the least bit disappointed by a Nasty, "At least it wasn't Faces Of Death."

Given a choice between unanaesthetized rectal surgery and watching Faces again, I'd have to sleep on it.

Seriously.

Ten Nasties down!  I should celebrate.  With pie.  Dutch Apple, cold.  With a large glass of whole milk, colder.  And some Girl Scout cookies.  Thin Mints, frozen.  I should also figure out what comes next.  Maybe something with Nazis, vile.  Or perhaps a werewolf, hairy.

Wherever we go next, it'll definitely be unpleasant, nihilistic, lecherous, gratuitous, gory, morbid and malevolent.  It will be a place that is, as I'm sure you know, Nasty.  So keep away from that fucking park.  Steer clear, lest ye be disemboweled and feasted upon.  I'm taking that advice too, my friends, because my name's Justin.  JustinCase.