A Requiem For My Old Pal, VHS

A Requiem For My Old Pal,

VHS

by Don Guarisco

The sign in front of Greg’s Video said “VHS BLOWOUT.” It wasn’t exactly drawing a stampede of business but it sure got my attention. My first thought was “Score!” You see, I eat, sleep and breathe movies -- especially the bizarre, cultish variety. Accordingly, I adore any opportunity to indulge this love on the cheap. Interest turned to euphoria when I reached the door and saw another sign that said “4 for $10.00, or $2.95 each.”

The selection inside wasn’t the treasure trove I was hoping for but it turned up a few old favorites and a couple of rarities I had neglected in the past. Even better, a trip to the other Greg’s Video location produced the bargain bonanza I was hoping for. I also picked up a few unexpected bonuses along the way: a rush of nostalgia, an illustration of time’s relentless march and a reminder of how the past has shaped the person I am today.


Wandering amongst the rows of dusty box covers conjured up vivid sense memories of how I had spent countless afternoons and evenings doing the same thing in different VHS emporiums all over town. You see, the video rental store once occupied a very important place in my life. My intense brand of cinemania began with a move to Tallahassee at age 13. Even though I was born here, I spent most of my early childhood in Tampa. Returning here at the ever-so-unlucky 13 mark was more than a bit traumatic.

I dealt with the hassles of trying to fit into a pre-established social order by letting my dormant love of movies run wild. Thus began an era, roughly spanning from 1985 to 1998, where I satiated my need for cinematic stimulus by obsessively prowling the stacks at video stores far and wide. Using tomes from Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael (not to mention more cultist-friendly magazines like Fangoria and Psychotronic) as my guides, I dove in head-first and navigated my own personalized path through this sea of possibilities.

And it was a big sea, mind you. This was truly a golden era for a budding cinephile like myself -- the video stores were mostly mom & pop affairs and small chains that took pride in offering a wide selection of material in every conceivable genre. It wasn’t uncommon for me to spend a good hour or hour and a half perusing the stacks to make my picks. The cornucopia of titles and cheap rental prices provided room for endless experimentation and I gladly took advantage of the many options I was offered.


Through this process of trial and error, I developed an array of specialized knowledge: which companies produced the best genre pics, which directors and actors were the most reliable, the ability to determine what was an overlooked classic and what was an overrated relic, which films had the greatest durability as a repeat-viewing option, how to tell if a title was repackaged old, foreign or made-for-television film. Flailing gave way to focus; raw enthusiasm was replaced with a veteran’s experience. It was an era that gave birth to and nurtured the aesthetic that would later get me into film school and help me land a number of bill-paying film-related writing and research gigs in Los Angeles.

By the time I reached college age, I knew the town’s video selection like the back of my hand. I could take my friends to find material that reflected their interests and had a sixth sense as to where particular titles could be found. I took great pride in programming home video fests for my like-minded allies in cinematic obsession and jumped at every chance to spread the gospel. I can look at various titles in my collection today and still fondly remember the first time I viewed them, who was there and the reactions we had to the latest bit of celluloid dementia I had unearthed.


Alas, all good things come to an end whether you’re ready for it or not. As the anti-cinephile policies of Blockbuster began to take hold over the movie rental industry, video stores began to surrender their individuality for a fatter profit margin. Stores phased out their rarities in favor of more new releases and the smaller places that couldn’t keep the pace of the New Video Order faded away one by one. More importantly, DVD was blazing its digitally superior path through the home entertainment world. By the time I moved away from home, my personal kingdom has shrunk to a collection of faded memories.

The nostalgia rollercoaster came to a halt, bringing me back to the present. As I took my selections to the counter and waited for the clerk to ring them up, I felt a bittersweet melancholy creep into my mixed emotions. My personal collection of cinematic ephemera was growing by a few more titles but I was also writing the epilogue to a beloved chapter of my life.

Still, the memories linger. They’re a sweet treasure, one I will never abandon… and even though the monolith that is my DVD collection dominates my personal entertainment archive, the VHS collection retains its place of honor. After all, they were there first. And you gotta remember where you came from to understand where you need to go.

The Szurek Zone: THE JAR (1984)

Now, don’t ask me the director’s name, for the credits of this bottom budget mishmash were too illegible to decipher (The name is George Toscano -- Ed.). Don’t ask me why he and the screenwriter couldn't come up with anything coherent, or why nobody with any degree of professionalism participated. Don’t ask me why, only months after the videotape came out, the box at my local outlet was visibly dirty, battered, beaten and already starting to turn yellow. Don’t even ask me what it’s about, for after seeing it, I’m still looking for a person to explain the plot to me.

Basically, it looks like a bunch of “spooky images” strung together, with virtually nothing to hold them in place, and since execution is so crude and amateurish with abysmal dubbing, comatose dubbers doing people who look like they weren’t too talented to begin with, and lighting which makes it hard to see not helping any, the “spookiness” rarely comes across as anything more than a five-year-old trying to be artsy-fartsy. Let’s try to be optimistic and hope that the incoherency is due to some truly brainless cutting. And yet, there are other scenes which call out – nay, SCREAM – for editing. Like in some of Jess Franco’s films, there are moments not even meant to be suspenseful wherein a person slowly ambles from one room to another and we’re forced to endure their every step. At one point, a man seats himself in a chair and remains there doing nothing, not even posing thoughtfully, for several minutes. Action has a habit of being elongated or ending before we know what hit us. There is a four or five minute sequence of the hero driving, but he apparently had no destination. Poor editing tells us in the middle that an opening automobile accident is integral to the supposed plot, and yet, we aren’t even informed it happened until then. Instead, we see a bloody figure, and don’t know how he got that way!


The bloody figure is brought to a man’s apartment to be cleaned up and, while there, vanishes into thin air, leaving behind a glass jar emblazoned with the face of one of the Bava/Argento demons. The symbolism, if that’s what it is, eludes me. The apartment owner keeps running into the bloody man, who it turns out died in the accident, but it’s never quite clear what he presently wants. The apartment owner repeatedly throws the jar away, but it always returns. He smashes it to smithereens a couple of times, but it returns intact.

In black and white sequences which seem to indicate astral projections, he powerlessly witnesses murders committed by and upon extras without names. Then he apparently stumbles upon Hell, but “Scream of the Damned” not withstanding, Hades is somebody’s backyard with a smoldering barbecue. During another trip, he watches soldiers buying it on the battlefield. What does this all mean? Despite the lack of “psychic ghoulishness” inherent in such films as COMBAT SHOCK, ERASERHEAD, BLOODY WEDNESDAY, THE RULING CLASS and to an extent even ALL THE COLORS OF THE DARK and DRILLER KILLER, we wonder if it means he’s going bonkers. He vacillates in wondering about that, too, and his girlfriend is sure of it. The ending tries to explain why these things have been happening, although it was still too vague for me, but one thing certain is that it wasn’t “all in his head” after all. If we needed any further reassurance, there’s a clichéd “the nightmare is starting anew” wrap-up.

THE JAR is absolutely stupefying, even more incoherent than NEON MANIACS, IGOR AND THE LUNATICS, GREY MATTER and the BLOOD COUPLE cut of GANJA AND HESS. If you like being confused, see it. If not, a firm thumbs down.

[Originally published in Temple of Schlock #19, August 1989]

One-Sheet of the Week: MASSAGE PARLOR '73 (1973)

MASSAGESALON DER JUNGEN MÄDCHEN (1972)

U.S. release in 1973 as MASSAGE PARLOR '73

LOLA BABY (1967) -- Happy Birthday Lola Falana!

First of all, we’d like to wish the lovely and talented actress-singer-dancer Lola Falana a very happy birthday today (b. 9/11/42). We were hoping to have The Lola Falana Show in our sweaty little hands by now, but Video Service Corp’s 2-disc collection of Ms. Falana’s mid ‘70s variety show doesn’t hit stores until October 6th and because we’ve never lifted a finger to get on any company’s DVD screener list, I’m afraid there’s no birthday cake for us at the moment. We’ll just have to fill up on the main course -- which happens to be spaghetti.

[Above: A sub-distributor's Boxoffice ad for one Washington, D.C. playdate]

A few years after her Broadway debut in the Sammy Davis, Jr. stage hit Golden Boy but before Vegas, Hollywood and Playboy came a callin’, Ms. Falana from Philadelphia was something of a pop star in Italy and even managed to top-line a couple of movies, including a Euro western. It’ll never cut it as a serious genre piece but as a star vehicle LOLA COLT (FACE TO FACE WITH EL DIABLO) isn’t half-bad. Falana handles the action scenes surprisingly well, has fun with her wildly anachronistic musical numbers, and is a good enough dramatic actress to not look foolish with someone else’s lackluster line readings emerging from her mouth. She also looks beautiful in nearly every frame, whether she’s belting out songs in a skimpy showgirl outfit or kicking up dust in her cowgirl costume. Despite the fact that she was blasting away bad guys six years before Cleo and Coffy made it fashionable, LOLA COLT (or LOLA BABY as the English print reviewed here is titled) took a decade to reach American theaters, arriving in 1976 as THE BLACK TIGRESS soon after Lola landed a lucrative deal pitching Tigress perfume for Faberge. Released by Hallmark/Newport (the company that brought you “It’s only a movie…only a movie…only a movie…”), it played double bills with BORN BLACK and MAN-EATER (a.k.a. SHARK) before fading into obscurity, around the same time Tamara Dobson replaced Falana as the Tigress spokesmodel.

[Above: A Tigress perfume ad autographed by Lola Falana, currently framed and hanging in the Temple library]

When the stuffy white women of Santa Ana confront beautiful black showgirl Lola Gate not two minutes after she steps out of a stagecoach that’s just arrived and one of them sneers “We don’t need your kind around here,” it’s impossible not to see the racial implication of the situation. Yet it’s all knee-jerk reaction on the part of American viewers who saw SERGEANT RUTLEDGE, THE SCALPHUNTERS, DUEL AT DIABLO or any other western with a prominent black actor in the cast, because here there is no racial implication. Lola and her three white colleagues are sexy showgirls, and by “your kind” the townswomen simply mean prostitutes (although that isn’t explicitly stated either). Race is in fact the furthest thing on the minds of screenwriter Luigi Angelo and director Siro Marcellini, as the color of Lola’s skin is not mentioned once. The story is pure formula -- Lola rallies the locals against a greedy Anglo villain known as “El Diablo” while flirting with the town’s handsome young (white) medical student -- and I guarantee you the movie would’ve been forgotten 40 years ago if it weren’t for the anomalous casting of a black American woman in the lead. The role could’ve been played by Nancy Sinatra, Lesley Gore, Rita Moreno, Annette Funicello, Brigitte Bardot or any Italian beauty with a decent voice and it would’ve been the same movie.


In addition to its colorblindness, the film is also surprisingly tame, despite a bogus R rating that frequently turned up on its stateside ad campaign. Considering that both of Falana’s major studio Hollywood productions -- THE LIBERATION OF L.B. JONES (1970) and THE KLANSMEN (1974) -- were totally preoccupied with race and went out of their way to show her naked and being manhandled by her co-stars, LOLA COLT is probably the one film she can safely run for her children and grandchildren today without embarrassment. And while we’re on the subject of children, let’s consider this film’s target audience for a moment. Sure, adults who love westerns may have bought tickets, and I bet a lot of men were lured in by the stunning and exotic lead actress, but LOLA COLT seems ideal for young black girls who rarely - if ever - get the chance to see a strong black woman in the wild west strapping on a six-shooter and taking care of business (The movie about "Stagecoach Mary" Fields, which Pam Grier was attached to over 30 years ago, still hasn’t been made). Reality hits them in the face too soon as it is, so why screw up pleasant escapist entertainment such as this with trash talk and racial epithets? LOLA COLT could be the celluloid equivalent of a summer afternoon spent playing with black Barbie dolls in between games of double-dutch, slide and Miss Lucy. And besides, it’s certainly not the worst spaghetti western I’ve ever sat through.


[Available from European Trash Cinema]

The Endangered List (Case File #44)

THE GREAT RAFT RACE! (1972)

Produced and directed
by
Robert M. Storer

Originally titled IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO SAVE THE RIVER

'The Great Raft Race' World Bow in Atlanta

ATLANTA -- "The Great Raft Race," a feature filmed in Atlanta and produced and directed by Robert M. Storer, was given its world premiere in three Eastern Federal Theatres -- Toco Hill, Ben Hill I and North Springs.

Prior to opening in those showcases, the picture was shown at a benefit performance in the 1,900-seat Symphony Hall in the Atlanta Memorial Arts Center, with tickets priced from $10 to $25. All proceeds were earmarked for the Georgia Conservation program to purchase and preserve scenic areas along the banks of the Chattahoochee River.

Based on the 1971 Ramblin' Raft Race, an annual competition between rafters, canoe paddlers, inner-tube riders and other makeshift craft, the picture was created by Storer. Original title of the picture was "It's a Beautiful Day to Save the River," taken from one of the film's original songs, with an environmental theme. It was decided, however, that "The Great Raft Race" was shorter and gave a clearer idea of what the picture was all about.

Storer got his idea for the film after meeting Larry Patrick, a Georgia Tech student who started the raft race several years ago. Storer became interested in making a film for TV (his father is chairman of the board of the Storer Broadcasting Co., owner and operator of a chain of TV stations) or for the college lecture circuit.

Before the 1971 race, Storer sent out six film crews to select good vantage points along the ten-mile course. The day of the race cameraman cruised along with the participants getting interviews. Another cameraman in a helicopter got fine shots from the air. In all, Storer found himself with more than 9,000 feet of film and about $50,000 invested.

Later Storer's cameraman returned to the river shooting closeup footage of plant and animal life.

During the 1972 race, they returned to get footage missed during the previous year's race. One of the things they were short on was shots of girls in bikinis, Storer recalls. The 1971 race drew 200,000 participants and spectators to the river, and a total of 4,700 craft of all descriptions competed in the race.

Patrick, founder of the race, admitted that his interest arose from his desire to see the river preserved as a natural resource and the fact that three years of the Raft Race had made rafting on the Chattahoochee one of the state's newest participation sports. The race also has led to the designation of the race route along the river as a state park by Governor Jimmy Carter.

[Boxoffice, July 24, 1972, p.SE-4)

IN TROUBLE (1971)

In my review of FRÜHREIFEN-REPORT back in February I erroneously credited the producer-director team of Wolf Hartwig and Ernst Hofbauer as the makers of the West German abortion report IN TROUBLE when the real culprits were producer Rob Houwer and director Eberhard Schröder. Despite what the IMDb and other online sources claim, however, this is not the movie that was released in the U.S. by Group 1 Films as GIRLS IN TROUBLE (1974); I have no idea what that movie’s true identity is, but I’ve seen the trailer and it’s definitely not IN TROUBLE, which was actually released stateside by United International Pictures in 1974 as THE JOY OF LOVE. With nothing in the ads to indicate this film’s true subject matter, drive-in patrons expecting a sexy skin flick were probably gagging on their green meatball sandwiches 10 minutes into this thing.


The original title translates into English as PARAGRAPH 218: WE HAVE ABORTIONS, MR. PROSECUTOR and refers to the German law criminalizing abortions. In all fairness, despite its share of sleazy and queasy moments -- I’d expect nothing less from screenwriter Günther Heller, who also penned FRÜHREIFEN-REPORT and all of the SCHULMÄDCHEN-REPORT films -- IN TROUBLE seems to have a feminist idea or two in its head and isn’t the reprehensible garbage it would’ve been in the hands of Heller-Hofbauer. Pic opens with blonde stunner Sybil Danning being taken into a room of a doctor’s office, helped out of her clothing and into stirrups for an abortion while two narrators with conflicting agendas address the viewer:

MALE NARRATOR: “A woman who destroys her embryo or consents to the destruction of her embryo by another is liable to be punished by law. The attempt is punishable. Any other who destroys the embryo of a mother-to-be is liable to be punished by law. When giving a mother-to-be the means for destroying the embryo or procuring the same is liable for punishment under the law.”

FEMALE NARRATOR: “The worldwide abortion laws were created by man centuries ago. The women concerned were not consulted. Today, women have begun to revolt. Modern woman wants to be consulted on all subjects concerning her life and welfare. Therefore, the blow for equality has been struck. The females of the world are beginning action to erase the archaic laws of subjection. The most important undertaking is to free the woman’s body from the courts of law. Women must have the option of their pregnancy without the shadow of outmoded laws. The female revolution has begun!”

Cut to a courtroom, where elderly amateur abortionist Mrs. Wilson (played by Rosl Mayr, a regular in these films) and young Krista Bernard are on trial for terminating Miss Bernard’s pregnancy. The film then follows the standard “report” format, presenting ten or more case studies having something to do with the hot-button topic of abortion.


1. We follow Krista to Mrs. Wilson’s apartment (which is strewn with baby dolls) and watch as the crusty old woman spreads the mother-to-be out on a kitchen table, goes to work on her with a big pair of tweezers, and then sends the poor girl home to hemorrhage and nearly die.

2. Gabby Bennett, a 13-year old schoolgirl, is on her way home with a Mother’s Day cake when she is pulled into a car by three creeps, driven to a remote area and raped. Pregnancy results, and when her outraged parents try to arrange for a special abortion, they’re denied permission and told that Gabby will just have to give birth. A clinic in Sweden eventually takes care of the problem.

3. The half dozen members of a bowling team who have been sleeping with the p.y.t. Anita are dismayed to learn that she’s pregnant, and all try to handle the abortion in their own wacky way: one guy gets her to jump out of a barn into a pile of hay, another lets her ride bare-assed on the back of his motorcycle as he drives it over potholes and down bumpy roads, a third makes her sit in a barrel of hot water, etc. It turns out Anita’s not pregnant at all, just faking it to squeeze money out of the mostly married louts.

4. We follow a mobile abortion clinic (a panel truck with a dirty operating room in the back) to several of its drop-off and pickup points. A gynecologist then appears onscreen to explain some of the things that could go wrong during an abortion: “One goes in and pulls something. A tiny leg breaks off. Then we get something else in the forceps. There are other problems. The body comes and the head is too big. It won’t come out. To get it out, we have to crush it.”

[I doubt too many guys scored at the drive-in while this one was playing]

5. Sexy secretary Ula Sanders is impregnated by her slimy married boss, and heads to England to get an abortion; the names and addresses of a dozen London abortion clinics scroll by slowly on screen as she arrives in town. On her way to the clinic, she meets Mr. Right, they decide to have the child, and they all live happily ever after.

6. This one has Günther Heller written all over it. An American soldier in Europe brings his pregnant German wife to a sleazy doctor who takes one long, lustful look at her fine face and bodacious bod and agrees to perform the illegal abortion. Tip: if there’s a bar in his office and he has to pour himself a stiff one before he operates, you should probably seek a second opinion. The not-so-good doctor locks the husband out of the operating room, drugs the wife, swigs booze while snapping pictures of her exposed crotch, rapes her while she’s in the stirrups, and then performs the abortion so the couple can’t legally do anything to him without incriminating themselves in the process.

7. Rebelling against her strict religious upbringing, 16-year old Swiss Miss Angela Seberg (whose father is the town mayor) indulges in premarital sex, gets knocked up, then conspires with her scandal-fearing mother to go behind dad’s back and coerce the family doctor to perform the abortion. Their sourpuss priest gets the last word.

Back in the courtroom, Mrs. Wilson is sentenced to 2 years in prison and Krista gets 3 months under paragraph 218. Minutes later, the judge gets into a car driven by his wife, who's played by – surprise! - Sybil Danning, who we saw undergoing the abortion at the start of the film. “The female revolution has begun.”

Starlight Six Drive-Invasion 2009

For a decade now, the Starlight Six Drive-In theatre in Atlanta has been hosting “Drive Invasion” over Labor Day weekend, but because of work commitments I’d been unable to attend the two-day music and movie festival until this year, their 10th anniversary celebration and the 60th birthday of the Starlight Six. For some inexplicable reason, the Starlight folks decided to celebrate this special occasion by scaling down the festivities to one day rather than two. No big deal. With extra time on my hands I was able to meet up with Allmovie reviewer (and Temple of Schlock contributor) Don Guarisco for an extensive tour of Atlanta’s used bookstores and record shops, with pit stops for refueling at local eateries like Zesto and Gladys Knight & Ron Winans’ Chicken & Waffles. Great food, especially in the latter joint, although I could’ve done without seeing the one-minute trailer for I CAN DO BAD ALL BY MYSELF (co-starring Ms. Knight) looped continuously on a large-screen TV throughout the entire meal. I do kinda regret not grabbing that CLAUDINE t-shirt in the gift shop though…but I digress.


The Starlight does little to accommodate first-time attendees to Drive-Invasion. Never mind that the music and movie line-ups aren’t posted on the theater’s website until a few weeks before the event -- what’s sorely missing more than anything else is a FAQ section. Luckily we were able to call on DVD Drive-In’s George Reis and independent filmmaker Daniel Griffith, both of them veteran “Drive Invaders,” for vital information. Their first and most crucial tip was this: in order to get a good spot for the movies, one has to arrive at the drive-in pretty much when the gates open at 11 a.m. I’m glad I followed their advice, because by 1:30 the festival grounds (screens 1, 2 and 3) had filled up and no more cars were being allowed inside; from that point on, attendees were instructed to park in the other theater lot (screens 4, 5, and 6) and join the Invasion on foot.




In other words, this is an all-day event, whether you want it to be or not. You pay $28 to hear thirteen bands and watch five movies. If you want to watch those movies from the comfort of your car, you better show up no later than 11:30 and come prepared to spend the next eight or nine hours splashing on sunscreen, eating delicious but dangerous food (chicken on a stick, corn dogs, funnel cakes) and listening to a lot of rockabilly and surf music. My biggest complaint, apart from the complete lack of information provided by the festival programmers, is that too many bands were booked in an effort to make up for the lost day. Thirteen bands is three bands too many when at least four of the bands are playing nothing but instrumental surf rock (Atlanta apparently has a big surf rock scene – y’know, for all those dudes shooting the curl down at Peachtree Creek). Ten would’ve been sufficient, and maybe then the movies would’ve started at dusk instead of 10 p.m., which is ridiculous considering the line-up: THE BLUES BROTHERS, EL TOPO, ZARDOZ, SHANTY TRAMP and FROGS.


Because the first two movies are over two hours long and a handful of trailers were shown between each feature (along with a Tom & Jerry cartoon), FROGS didn’t begin until 6 a.m., and within an hour the rising sun had rendered the last third unwatchable. Realizing there was no way I would be able to view the film for much longer, I stumbled over to the restrooms to brush my teeth and prepare for my flight home. When I emerged a few minutes later I was greeted by a brand new day and the sight of the huge, garbage-strewn, nearly empty drive-in lot in the morning sunlight. I could make out movement on the screen but nothing more, and if it hadn’t been for Ray Milland’s voice still booming from one car -- my Alamo rental’s, I found out, as I staggered over to it -- I wouldn’t have even known the movie was still playing.


These few complaints aside, the Starlight Six is a terrific venue and Drive-Invasion 2009 was a hell of a good time. I was never bored, that’s for sure. Around mid-afternoon I figured I’d find a shady spot under a tree and catch up on my reading (I brought along the first two John Easy mysteries by Ron Goulart), but with everything from custom cars and dealer tables to the cool movie murals on the snack bar walls and the always interesting crowd -- a peacefully coexisting mixture of deep south rednecks and Atlanta hipsters, as Donny G. commented -- the time passed quickly. I’m not sure I’ll make it to next year’s Drive-Invasion, but I’m certainly not opposed to the idea.

All photos by Don Guarisco and Chris Poggiali

One-Sheet of the Week: CAMPUS SWINGERS (1974)

SCHULMÄDCHEN-REPORT 4. TEIL - WAS ELTERN OFT VERZWEIFELN LÄSST / SCHOOLGIRL REPORT 4: WHAT DRIVES PARENTS TO DESPAIR (1972)

U.S. release in 1974 as CAMPUS SWINGERS

Re-released by MPM in 1981 as SEX EDUCATION

Private Screenings VHS title: BARELY INNOCENT

"Screamplays" -- Edited by Richard Chizmar

In his introduction to this scattershot collection of film and TV horror scripts, Dean Koontz is quick to point out that “a screenplay is not meant to be published and read by the public.” He’s absolutely right, but the apologetic underpinnings of that statement can’t be ignored; after all, nobody made excuses for TWISTER or FOUR ROOMS when those scripts were allowed to pollute bookstore shelves everywhere.

Collecting several horror screenplays in one volume was a great idea, but the seven scripts filling out Screamplays offer no sense of urgency at all. "The Legend of Hell House," by Richard Matheson, was filmed 36 years ago, and Stephen King’s “The General” -- about a cat protecting a little girl from a murderous gremlin -- was the third tale in the 1985 movie CAT’S EYE. Several of the scripts included here were never even filmed, and one of them -- "Track Down" by Ed Gorman -- isn’t even a horror story! Aside from indicating which scripts are based on the authors’ past novels or short stories, the book provides no introductions or histories for them, which would have added some badly needed context.

After a promising start, the late Richard Laymon’s serial killer story "The Hunted" degenerates into a tepid wilderness survival tale, with a major plot twist lifted from JUST BEFORE DAWN. "Dead in the West" comes across like RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD meets HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER; writer Joe R. Lansdale certainly keeps the blood ‘n’ gore flying, but his obsession with fecal imagery is more frightening than any moment in the script (a typical character description: “He looks like he could eat a bucket of tacks and shit you a toolbox”).

“Moonlighting” and “Killing Bernstein,” two short teleplays by Harlan Ellison, are easily the high points. The tales are fast, funny and suspenseful, and Ellison seems much more at ease with the screenplay format than any of the other featured writers. Sharp characterizations and crackling dialogue save Gorman’s "Track Down" from being just another tired revenge drama, but why it was included here, in a “collection of spine-tingling scripts by the titans of shock storytelling,” is beyond me.

Screamplays is ultimately done in by its lack of focus; if editor Richard Chizmar had narrowed his scope a bit more -- to a particular decade, studio or screenwriter, for example -- there would at least be some consistency to the collection. As it stands, Screamplays is just another missed opportunity -- and we have enough of those cluttering up bookstores already.

The Endangered List (Case File #43)

EDEN CRIED (1967)

Produced and directed
by Alex Kolis

Written by
Fred Johnson

Director of Photography
Ted V. Mikels

Starring
Carole Holland
Tom Pace
Victor Izay

MPAA rating: GP (1971)
Film may have been shot as early as 1965
World premiere: Ritz Theatre in Newburgh, NY (June 7th, 1967)
Released by Continental Distributing
a.k.a. IN THE FALL OF '55, EDEN CRIED

PLOT
(from the pressbook)

IN THE FALL OF '55, EDEN CRIED surrounds two high school students, who fall in love, get married and realize problems multiply, compared to their previous single life as carefree teenagers.

Tom Pace, plays the lovable boy next door, Skip Garroway. Carole Holland, a blonde blue eyed MISS AMERICA FINALIST, portrays Lorraine Parker in an unforgettable role. They start out as classmates and end up married. During the interim the story unfolds fantastic cinematic WIDE SCREEN PHOTOGRAPHY from the love-ins at the beach, surfing and dancing to the music of '55. SCHOOL ROMANCES and SCHOOL FIGHTS were the thing.

On the way to a dance, via a secluded lover's lane, Skip is challenged to a DRAG RACE, he refuses, but accepts after the challenger repeats hearsay about his driving skills.

During the DRAG RACE, his challenger is killed in a SPECTACULAR RACE, that would REMIND THE AUDIENCE OF "BULLITT" and "VANISHING POINT."

The heartbroken couple is split up by their parents after the tragedy. During this sad split up friends of theirs arrange different dates, they switch partners down the road, thus reuniting Skip and Lorraine on the way to Malibu a famous "In" spot for beach parties in '55.

These inseparable lovers get married, to the shock of their parents and friends paving the hard road for THE DROP OUT and THE GRADUATE's life ahead.

IN EVERYONE'S LIFE THERE'S A PLACE for "IN Eden Cried."

NOW SHOWING -- May through August 1973

The other day, someone on one of the message boards started a thread proclaiming 2009 to be the greatest year for movies ever. Once I stopped laughing, I traded a few e-mails with T.O.S. contributor John W. Donaldson and we decided to put together this post to spotlight some of the movies that were in release in 1973, during what is now considered to be the big ticket summer movie season (May through August). Not everything here got a wide release -- some titles only played arthouses and ethnic theaters in big cities, while others played for years in rural drive-ins and never reached New York or L.A. -- but they were all playing somewhere. It's quite a list, not even close to complete, and we didn't even include porn! Keep in mind also that these are just the movies released during the four months covered; Clint Eastwood's HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER, Mario Bava's BARON BLOOD, Lucio Fulci's ONE ON TOP OF THE OTHER, the original WALKING TALL and others -- released a month or several prior to May -- were probably still making the rounds or were held over in some cities and towns.

It must've been a very exciting time to be a moviegoer.


MAY
AN AUTUMN AFFAIR
BLUE DEMON CONTRA LAS DIABOLICAS
THE DAY OF THE JACKAL
DEEP THRUST
A DOLL’S HOUSE
EMPEROR OF THE NORTH
EXTREME CLOSE-UP
FISTS OF FURY
THE GATLING GUN
GIRLS ARE FOR LOVING
THE HARRAD EXPERIMENT
KID BLUE
LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL
THE MATTEI AFFAIR
THE NEPTUNE FACTOR
THE OFFENSE
PAPER MOON
PAT GARRETT AND BILLY THE KID
POINT OF TERROR
SAVAGE!
THE SOUL OF NIGGER CHARLEY
SOYLENT GREEN
STANLEY
SWEET JESUS, PREACHER MAN
TERROR IN THE WAX MUSEUM
THREE DIMENSIONS OF GRETA
VUELVEN LOS CAMPEONES JUSTICIEROS
A WARM DECEMBER






JUNE
ALL THE WAY BOYS
BAD CHARLESTON CHARLIE
BATTLE FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES
BLUME IN LOVE
CAHILL, U.S. MARSHAL
THE CANDY SNATCHERS
THE CHEERLEADERS
COFFY
DILLINGER
DUEL OF THE IRON FIST
THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF ZORRO
THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE
THE HAMMER OF GOD
HURACAN RAMIREZ Y LA MONJITA NEGRA
INVASION OF THE BEE GIRLS
JONATHAN
THE LAST OF SHEILA
THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE
LITTLE CIGARS
LIVE AND LET DIE
A LIZARD IN A WOMAN’S SKIN
MAN FROM DEEP RIVER
THE MAN WHO LOVED CAT DANCING
NIGHT OF THE CORBRA WOMAN
O LUCKY MAN!
PLAYTIME
SHAFT IN AFRICA
THE STEPMOTHER
SUPER FLY T.N.T.
TERMINAL ISLAND
THIS IS A HIJACK
A TOUCH OF CLASS
TRADER HORN












JULY
AMERICAN GRAFFITI
AND NOW THE SCREAMING STARTS
BADGE 373
BARBARA, FURIA INFERNAL
BROTHER ON THE RUN
CLEOPATRA JONES
THE DARING DOBERMANS
DEAF SMITH AND JOHNNY EARS
HOT SUMMER WEEK
THE LAST AMERICAN HERO
THE MACKINTOSH MAN
OKLAHOMA CRUDE
UNA ROSA SEBRE EL RING
SCREAM, BLACULA, SCREAM
SSSSSS
SWEET SUZY
SWINGIN' WIVES
WHITE LIGHTNING












AUGUST
BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY
THE BOY WHO CRIED WEREWOLF
CAGED VIRGINS
THE CLONES
COPS AND ROBBERS
DETROIT 9000
ELECTRA GLIDE IN BLUE
ENTER THE DRAGON
GORDON’S WAR
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY – LOVE, GEORGE
HARRY IN YOUR POCKET
HEAVY TRAFFIC
THE HONG KONG CAT
LA INVASION DE LOS MUERTES
JEREMY
JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR
LADY ICE
LAKE OF DRACULA
THE MAD BOMBER
MAURIE
THE NAKED APE
SLAUGHTER’S BIG RIP-OFF
THE STONE KILLER
SWORD OF VENGEANCE
THE TALL BLONDE MAN WITH ONE RED SHOE
YOUR THREE MINUTES ARE UP
THE VIRGIN WITCH
WHEN WOMEN HAD TAILS