Showing posts with label Aldo Sambrell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aldo Sambrell. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 April 2019

The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad



Super Kali, Fragile Mystic

The Golden Voyage of Sinbad
UK/USA 1973 Directed by Gordon Hessler
Indicator Blu Ray Zone B


I would have been five years old when I first saw The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad at a cinema in London. It was 1973 and I can’t remember exactly which cinema it was for certain that I saw this at but, a quick scan through of the supplementary marketing material included in the excellent new dual Blu Ray/DVD Sinbad boxed set from Indicator allows me to say that I’m pretty sure it was at the ODEON in Marble Arch, as it was then. It was the first Sinbad film I’d ever seen at the time... possibly even my first Ray Harryhausen although, I might have possibly already seen Jason And The Argonauts on the little black and white television set we had back then in the 1970s. It was also the same year that my parents took me to see my first James Bond film at the cinema, Live And Let Die, so... yeah, that was a pretty good year for introducing me to these wonderful characters.

I still remember getting on the tube train at Marble Arch after the film, clutching a copy of Issue 8 of the Marvel Comic Worlds Unknown in my hand as I waited for the train to come and take me home after seeing a film filled with wonder. This particular comic book contained the second of Marvel’s two issue adaptation of the movie and it had a beautiful cover depicting the battle with the big statue of Kali from near the end of the film. Alas, I never got around to tracing the first part in Issue 7 but one of these days I'll find the thing so I can read the whole adaptation.

As I stood there in the tube with my parents, gazing up in wonder at the giant wall length poster for Lamb’s Navy Rum on the other side of the tunnel, I didn’t make the connection that the alluring Lamb’s Navy Rum girl (alluring to me even at the age of 5) was the same girl who I had just seen as the leading lady of The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad, the very likeness of whom I was holding between the covers of the comic I was clutching so tightly in my hand.

It took me literally decades to figure that out but you can pinpoint the beginning of my admiration/adoration of that particular model turned actress, Caroline Munro, right there. Even when I saw her in other much loved movies from my childhood, it took me a while to put a name to the face or even, truth be told, match up that face to different roles, to be fair. So when I saw her in other much loved films as I was growing up, such as At The Earth’s Core and another Bond film, The Spy Who Loved Me, I took notice of her even though I was unfamiliar with her name or the fact that she was the sexy girl in the half undone red jump suit, balancing a checquered helmet in her hand for Lambs.

This was my first Sinbad film though and, while I’ve watched it a fair few times over the years, the new Blu Ray transfer from Indicator is a great way to see this thing.

Now this film stars John Philip Law as Sinbad and absolutely no reference is made throughout the film to the previous Sinbad adventure, The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad (which I reviewed here), with Kerwin Mathews in the title role... nor to any of the other characters in that film, which seems to contradict the happy ending found in that last movie. So, like that film before it and the next Harryhausen Sinbad adventure, Sinbad And The Eye Of The Tiger, this one pretty much functions as a stand alone film. And quite a nice one still, at that.

The film starts off with a flying homunculus, shot at by one of the crew of Sinbad’s ship which causes it to drop a metal symbol on deck. Sinbad picks it up and wears it as an amulet. He does this after first seeing a vision of the film’s evil mystic played by Tom Baker and, also, a vision of a girl belly dancing with an eyeball tattooed onto her hand. This is our first sight of Caroline in this film but her face is in shade so the character can be revealed later via the eye symbol. After the ship goes through a very effectively shot storm, which looks and feels particularly hellish and after some shenanigans where Sinbad deprives Tom Baker’s villanous Koura of his metal symbol, he finds himself in league with a masked Visier who has another part of the symbol, played by Douglas Wilmer. They set off in a race to find the third part of the symbol which, when placed in a fountain, grants the person with these pieces special powers and riches. Aided with some new crew members such as Caroline Munro as former slave girl Margiana and his own trusty crew, headed up with right hand man Rachid, played by Martin Shaw who would find fame as one of The Professionals on TV a number of years later... the quest then takes the form, as most Sinbad movies seem to, of a road movie but with ships and sandals rather than using any actual roads.

Of course, various incidents and perils are thrown at Sinbad and his crew, mostly inflicted upon them by Tom Baker’s dark mystic, who gets a little more fragile and aged each time he uses his black magic to try and defeat Sinbad. He is aided throughout some of the film by Spanish actor Aldo Sambrell, who I believe also worked again with Caroline Munro again many decades later. For some reason, though, he kinda just drops out of the film about three quarters of the way through and I often wonder if this was the result of action that wasn’t included in the final cut of the movie.

John Philip Law is... perhaps a little wooden and naive in the role of Sinbad but he does look the part more so than the other actors who have played the character and it’s interesting because his stylised form of performance seems to play in direct contrast to Martin Shaw. Shaw, somehow, has a more naturalistic way of acting through the film and, although you’d think this would be at complete odds with Law’s approach to the movie, it actually makes for an interesting on screen chemistry between the two. It shouldn’t work but... yeah, it kinda really does, actually. Also keep an eye on Tom Baker because he makes this role his own and this is apparently the part which helped secure him the role with which he’s most identified with, the fourth incarnation of The Doctor in BBCs long running series Doctor Who.

And then there’s Caroline Munro, of course. She’s really great here but doesn’t have a lot of lines and so, similar to her role in Captain Kronos - Vampire Hunter, if memory serves, she performs a lot of it a little like a silent movie star might. And she’s brilliant at it. If you want to watch a film where Caroline really has an unbelievable amount of screen presence, even when she’s not the main focus of a scene, then look no further than The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad. I mean, yes, she obviously looks beautiful here... as she always does... but there’s a certain way she has about her that means it’s very hard to take your eyes off her when she’s on screen. More so here than in many of her similarly outstanding roles, I think it would be true to say.

Now the film is beautifully shot with some nice compositions scattered throughout and some truly amazing, Mario Bava-like lighting in some of the cavern sequences, where bright reds, greens and purples play against one another in the shot to truly give a visual feast for the audience. And as well as being a wonderful, artistic environment for the actors to perform against, we also have a load of the typically outstanding creatures animated and dropped into the sets and brought to life with the photo trickery of Dynarama (or whatever they were labelling the stop-motion process this time around... I believe it was called SuperDynamation in the previous Sinbad movie). So we have a wonderful sequence where Sinbad’s ship’s figurehead come to life to attack the crew... don’t know how many other ships kept their figureheads just inside the ship rather than outside but, I guess they needed to make this work somehow rather than just have it come to life and immediately fall in the water. There’s also a sequence where a cyclopean centaur has a fight with a gryphon... for no conceivable reason that I could see but, it seems to be integral to the finale of the movie somehow and it certainly looks okay.

And, of course, we also have the wonderful part of the film which made the five year old me really sit up to pay attention and... it probably has a similar effect on me to this day, to be honest. The wonderful sequence where the giant, six limbed statue of Kali is conjured to life and fights Sinbad and his crew with her six swords. It must have been an absolute nightmare for Harryhausen to choreograph this on set and then somehow animate it, frame by frame later but... well, the results are more than worth it as far as I’m concerned. Decades later, when I was playing Tomb Raider 3 on my Playstation, I came across a scene which was obviously more than just a little influenced by this movie, where Lara Croft has to fight more or less the same statue in a very similarly lit setting, by pumping it full of as many bullets as she can before taking enough damage to kill her. It certainly brought those childhood memories flooding back.

And added to all this, of course, the film has a standout score by Dr. Miklos Rosza. Now Rosza had a thing for epic pictures set in ancient times and he’s a good choice here... although the score is not nearly as good as Bernard Herrmann’s contribution to The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad, for sure. Now, I always find late Rosza scoring beautiful but very dated. It’s like, however modern the film was, he would always be writing something like an old fashioned, 1940s Hollywood score and that can often overpower the visual images for films he scored which were made after the 1950s or mid-1960s, I reckon. And it’s very much the case here too, it has to be said but, I would also say that the years have been very kind to this film and now that we look back at it from a fair distance in time, the score seems to work better in context with the images, it seems to me, than they once seemed to. So I don’t know how that works but, either way, it’s still a lovely score and also a very good listen away from the film itself.

So there you have it... the story is not great but The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad does have some good one liners in it, such as “My heart is full of bravery but I have very cowardly legs.” and, combined with some good performances by the actors, good lighting and some stand out Harryhausen effects work, we have a truly fun picture which really holds up well now and will certainly keep the family entertained whenever it goes on. And it has Caroline Munro giving a truly remarkable, almost silent era performance which really draws you in. Indicator’s new set is filled with some pretty cool extras including a new interview with Caroline herself and it even has the old Super 8 cut down versions of the film as an option (which is a nice inclusion from a historical perspective). If you have the opportunity to grab one then the Indicator Sinbad box set is definitely the way to go with this one... you don’t want to miss out on this if you are a fan of cinema, for sure.

Saturday, 26 October 2013

Satan's Baby Doll (La bimba di Satana)






Doll Set Tones

Satan's Baby Doll (La bimba di Satana)
1982 Italy
Directed by Mario Bianchi
Shameless Region 0

Warning: This one has major spoilers... although, to be honest, I don’t think plot points and story development are going to be on your mind if you’re prepared to watch stuff like this.

Hmm... well this film has Aldo Sambrell in it. A popular star of many Italian films and spaghetti westerns. The last two films I saw with him in it were the modern exploitation flick Flesh For The Beast (which also featured a cameo by the lovely Caroline Munro) and the second Superargo movie, Superargo And The Faceless Giants, where the titular villains were not even tall and all had noticeable faces. So that was a bit of a contradictory title then. In that one, he played a levitating Indian sidekick/mentor for the main character (my review here).

It also stars five other people (three of whom are beautiful women and who are in and out of their clothing like nobody’s business) and the whole thing is set in a large manor house with a small dungeon. And... that’s about it.

Satan’s Baby Doll has a wafer thin plot line. When Maria (played by porn actress Marina Hedman) dies, she comes back through her daughter Miria (played by Jacqueline Dupré... no not that one, she was classier than this), using both her own body and her daughter’s body, transformed by goodness knows what jiggery pokery at the cut of a shot, in varying states of undress and exploiting confusing, supernatural teleportation skills. She then goes on a rampage... a pretty slow rampage to be honest, and kills the other members of the household through various means.

There’s not a heck of a lot going on other than that. Half of the acting seems to be shouting insults at each other and the other half seems to be giving each other long, sombre looks with enough gravitas to fill a bathtub. Take the family priest/manservant kind of character... I’m sorry, I was really unsure of what role he was supposed to function as, in this shouty household. After Maria twitches after death, he goes to a little altar set-up and starts a ritualistic exercise which I can only describe as advanced chicken fondling, shaking and eating... raw and uncooked with a mouthful of blood and feathers. This is all accomplished, like more of the acting than I expected in this movie, with no small amount of vein popping, facial contortions and much flaring of the nostrils.

It probably should have come as no surprise to me that the same guy is later strangled by a bandaged mummy corpse of some strange description, which just happens to be lying around in the family crypt while the dead guy makes love to it, in order to try to summon the dead mother. He perhaps needn’t have bothered being all that ritualistic, to be honest. She was already up and about and killing off the family doctor when he was trying to embalm her.

I think that earlier chicken scene comes slightly after (I think) another sequence where the head of the family Antonio Aguilar (Sambrell’s character) has acquired heroine from his doctor friend to help his crippled, mute, wheelchair bound brother’s back pain... but, in actual fact, so he can just shoot up himself.

His brother Ignacio, meanwhile, has wheeled himself to the crack in the door of the trainee nun of the household (yes, this household has it’s own nun for some reason) played by the sexy Mariangela Giordano. Here, he can watch the lady in question disrobe and indulge in some hot nun-masturbation sequences, including extremely badly edited-in softcore scenes which don’t quite match the surrounding shots and which, frankly, appear quite comical. Especially when a still photograph of our voyeuristic wheelchair user is periodically superimposed over shots of Ms. Giordano running her fingers through her pubic hair. I know I shouldn’t laugh but... well. It was badly handled. It later turns out, of course, that the appearance of the naked daughter has the power to lure Ignacio slowly out of his wheelchair so he can fall to his death down a conveniently placed hole in the floor. Sex definitely seems to equal death in this movie and all three actresses seem to be very adept at getting their clothes off and practicing self abuse quite a bit... before getting it on with one of the other actors or actresses in the movie.

This all sounds very good and proper for an exploitation movie, to be fair, but... honestly? I prefer my exploitation movies to have at least an air of fun about them. This one is poe faced and the prominent nudity and flesh stroking dotted throughout the movie really don’t save it from being a very tedious affair.

There are more kills, of course, as Antonio is, um, backed off and over the railings at the top of a stair well to his death and our poor nun, who decides she would rather sleep with the dead mother’s corpse than sleep with the dead mother possessing her daughter, does exactly that... whereupon the corpse starts sexing her back while simultaneously crushing her to death with her bisexual caress. Actually... it really doesn’t look like she’s squeezing that hard at all, but blood starts coming out of the nun's mouth so one can only assume this is what’s happening here.

There’s a few nice things about the movie. Some of the shot set ups are pretty cool... but Mario Bianchi is no Mario Bava when it comes to this game, although I understand he did help out on one of Bava’s best movies, Five Dolls For An August Moon. There’s a nice shot of a wheelchair being pushed where the camera is moving with the wheelchair... giving the same effect and technique that Scorcese used for Harvey Keitel’s drunk scene in Mean Streets and, later, Aranofsky used in Requiem For A Dream, where the camera is strapped directly to the body.

And the music by first and last timer Nico Catanese is quite good, coming across as some kind of pseudo-Goblin affair which was all the rage at the time and which seems to work, like most of the Italian horror and gialli with this kind of music do, by being over the top and out of kilter with the on-screen visuals to the point where it kinda drives the visuals instead of the other way around. Very strange but, like the best applications of this style of scoring, it does seem to work. That being said, there’s only about two tracks in the entire film and once you’ve heard the exact same one played over and over again to score both sex scenes, shouty scenes, drug taking scenes and, um, more sex scenes... well, it does get a bit dull and outstay its welcome after a while.

So that’s about it for this reviewer, I think. I don’t seem to have anything else to say about this one. You’d think that, with the amount of sexromancy* going on in this film, it would at least be mostly watchable but, sadly, that just isn’t the case with this particular exploitation movie. Never mind Satan’s Baby Doll... it’s more like Satan’s Baby, dull.

*I’m trademarking that term I just coined, by the way.