Showing posts with label Barbara Steele. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barbara Steele. Show all posts
Sunday, 11 August 2019
Shivers
Parasite Lost
Shivers
aka The Parasite Murders
aka They Came From Within
Canada 1975
Directed by David Cronenberg
Arrow Blu Ray Zone 2
I’ve been meaning to re-watch some of the old Cronenberg classics for some time now and have, over the last few years, bought some shiny new Blu Ray restorations to do just that. The reason I’m watching Shivers now is because I’ve got tickets to the premiere of the Soskia Sisters remake of Rabid and I wanted to watch the original again before seeing the new one. However, since I always get Shivers and Rabid confused in my mind, I wanted to refamiliarise myself with Shivers first... especially since it comes directly before Rabid in terms of when it was made.
Looking at this now, it’s strange to try and process the reaction to this movie when it was first released in Canada. There was a bit of a scandal about this being made with funding from the taxpayers and most people seemed to condemn this film as being a terrible movie. I’ve never thought it was a terrible movie, to be honest. I always kind of quite liked it although, it has to be said, some of the acting may be a bit questionable... I’ll get back to that in a minute.
The film’s opening credits sequence takes the form of a slideshow advertisement, where a voice tells us of all the promise of buying an apartment in the new, modern Starliner Apartment Block which houses a community of people on Starliner Island. It introduces us to the fact that the people who live in the block have their own shops and facilities like an indoor swimming pool (which plays prominently in the last act of the film) and it’s a nice idea for Cronenberg to give the audience a kind of a map to the environment in which the film they are about to watch will take place.
We then have a sequence with a new couple visiting the apartment block for the first time to get a sales tour but this is intercut with the film’s first scene of ‘ body horror’ running simultaneously with their dialogue with the guy in charge of the buildings. A man... a doctor/research scientist as it turns out... is trying to stop a schoolgirl from leaving his apartment, violently and eventually manages to strangle her. He then tapes up her mouth... to stop something we’ll see later from leaving her body and then puts her down on a table, slices open her stomach with a scalpel and then pours acid into the open cavity. After he’s done this he slices his own throat open with a scalpel and dies.
A lot of the early part of the film also concentrates on Nicholas, played by Allan Kolman, who is very sick with constant, surprise stomach cramps and who is trying to just survive his day. His wife Janine, played by Susan Petrie, is worried about him so she goes to see the doctor who has a practice in the Starliner apartment block. Here we meet the two people who act, for the most part of the movie, as the real protagonists of the film... Doctor Roger St. Luc, played by Paul Hampton and Nurse Forsythe, played by the lovely Lynn Lowry, with whom he is romantically involved. He promises to stop by and have a look at Janine’s husband later that evening but, as he gets more patients exhibiting similar symptoms... things moving around inside them and pushing on the skin... it’s an appointment he never gets to make.
As he gets deeper into his day, Roger finds that the doctor who killed himself has been experimenting on people under the guise of an organisation who are breeding parasitic slug thingies to replace failing human organs like kidneys. However, as his fellow researcher soon finds out and then reveals to Roger, he was actually on a mad scientist trip to create a parasite that's “a combination of aphrodisiac and venereal disease that will hopefully turn the world into one beautiful, mindless orgy.” And that’s exactly what the parasites do... get inside people and then ‘sexy them up’ so that they attack other people and pass more sluggy looking parasites on to them... transforming them into a growing number of infected, sexed up, somewhat aggressive and ultimately doomed human beings. So there’s your plot set up and the rest of the film is about Roger and his nurse trying to get out of the apartment complex and warn the rest of the world before becoming infected themselves. People who are familiar with the work of David Cronenberg will know him as one of the main geniuses of the modern horror scene, not to mention the man who... well he didn’t exactly invent but certainly he popularised the sub-genre of ‘body horror’ with films like this, Rabid, Scanners, The Brood, Videodrome, the remake of The Fly, eXistenZ and probably a few others I’m forgetting. So if you’re familiar with the inevitability of the situations he creates in these films, which might seem to some as pessimistic and bleak in their outlook, then you can probably guess how this all ends.
Meanwhile, Nicholas has been vomiting up parasites which escape into the complex and attack other people, including the most famous member of the cast, to genre fans at least, Barbara Steele as Janine’s friend Betts. Now let me say something about the almost amateurish acting vibe coming from some of the cast. I think the real problem here... at least in how the film may have been perceived by some at the time... is in the somewhat lacklustre and minimalistic performance by Allan Kolman as Nicholas. However, you have to remember that right from the outset, this character has several parasites swimming around in his body affecting the way he acts and talks so, I suspect, this somewhat less than engaging performance is a result of him really nailing the part and giving Cronenberg exactly what he wanted, rather than anything lacking in his performance skills. That’s my guess anyway since the actor seems to have gone on to a successful career in small roles in film and television over the years.
Let’s talk about Barbara Steele for a moment here too. This iconic actress from such fan favourites as Mario Bava’s Black Sunday, Roger Corman’s Pit And The Pendulum, Riccardo Freda’s The Horrible Dr. Hichcock, Federico Fellini’s Eight And A Half, Michael Reeves’ The She Beast plus The Curse Of The Crimson Alter, Nightmare Castle and The Long Hair Of Death, amongst many others, has a nude scene here which is both supposed to be an obvious ‘exploitation’ moment but which also manages to not show any of Steele’s sexualised body parts such as breasts or backside. It’s a scene where Steele is attacked by a parasite in the bath and it swims into her vagina (is the implication) but there’s no real nudity on display in any overt way here. Which is odd considering there’s a scene with Steele and Susan Petrie naked and doing the back stroke in the pool towards the end of the movie.
However, the reason I’m highlighting this scene is not to complain about it but to show how Cronenberg, who clearly wants us to get a ‘sex vibe’ from the sequence, manages to give us a ‘sexual surrogate’ to create the illusion in the audience's head that they are watching a proper nude scene. It’s simply done by just crosscutting this scene constantly with a sequence in which Doctor St. Luc is on his phone talking to someone but, as he talks, he watches (as do we) his nurse lover strip down out of her uniform to finish up for the day... under which she is not wearing any underwear of course. So, simply but brilliantly, the director manages to add the sexualised thrill missing from the simultaneous scene of Steele’s bathtime encounter... which ends really strongly with a close up shot of her walking bare foot on broken glass long before Bruce Willis did exactly the same thing in Die Hard... while not showing anything of Steele herself.
As a quick shout out to the lack of underwear on the nurse, I will say that, for a film about a sexual parasite, there is very little nudity in the movie as a whole but there is a definitive lack of underwear in it. None of the female characters seem to have ever heard of a bra (maybe people in Canada don’t wear them) and so everyone’s nipples seem to be covered but fairly prominent throughout... which I’m not going to complain about either. That Susan Petrie is a dish, though. Sorry, I just had to make that pun here or I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
There are some nice shot compositions in this movie too... which you kinda expect from Cronenberg these days, it has to be said. Especially in some of the few, rare scenes shot externally to the apartment block at night. There’s a lovely shot of actor Joe Silver, for example, leaving a big office block via the front entrance and the whole atrium area is lit up in subdued greens right in the centre of the frame as he leaves and walks towards camera, with the rest of the shot around that atrium all very dark (practically pitch black) to highlight the action... very nice. It’s somewhat echoed in a similar shot in Rabid but it’s much more striking here.
Looking at the film now, it doesn’t seem that much dated but seems to give off that 1970s vibe of laid back, voyeuristic naturalism (for want of a better term) which puts it as a spiritual cousin to other contemporary movies such as Brian De Palma’s Sisters (reviewed by me here) or Martin Scorcese’s Mean Streets. Which is good company to be in, as far as I’m concerned. There are a few silly mistakes in the movie too, it has to be said but my biggest criticism would be the scene where Doctor St. Luc rescues his girlfriend by repeatedly shooting the guy who is trying to rape and ‘parasite her up’ in the car on top of her. Honestly people, a doctor should know that the human body is usually not resistant enough to bullets that said projectiles at that close range would as likely travel through the body and into the person below. However, James Bond makes a similar mistake in Thunderball (reviewed here), if memory serves, so I’ll just let that one pass for now.
And that’s pretty much all I have to say about Shivers at the moment. Some of the music is nicely effective in some sequences but I’m pretty sure it’s all been needle-dropped in from a music library from varying, contributing composers so it’s not likely at present that I can find any of them on CD. They are, for the most part, well utilised and all in all help contribute to some of the stronger performances in the film and give the whole bunch of viral shenanigans a certain sense of menace and inevitability. Not my favourite of Cronenberg’s oeuvre but certainly one of his best and most fondly remembered (as much as I mix it up with his next film). Definitely a recommendation from me, especially if you’re not familiar with this director’s work and aren’t worried about the lack of visual sophistication in some of the effects shots. This is a film I’ll continue to come back to when I can.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Nightmare Castle

Welcome To My Nightmare
Nightmare Castle (aka Night Of The Doomed)
Italy 1965
Directed by Mario Caiano
Severin Region 1
Warning: This review has nightmarish
spoilers at every twist and turn...
Like a lot of movies I watch these days, I "ordered in" a copy of Nightmare Castle because I already had the soundtrack and I wanted to know how Ennio Morricone’s distinctive score for the film worked within the context of being heard while the film played out. However, I was at once on my guard when this one turned up for me because a review site quoted on the front cover of the sleeve wrote the following about the it...
“As good - if not better - than any Mario Bava gothic tale.”
I have to admit that this got my back up from the start with this movie because, frankly, nobody could make gothic horror like Bava... nobody. Bava’s visual style was so intense that pretty much any other films straying into the same kind of territory fall flat when it comes to a comparison. Certainly Britain’s Hammer Films couldn’t top Bava and, perhaps, the nearest in the US in terms of at least being heavily inspired by Bava’s directorial signature would be the Edgar Allen Poe cycle of films directed by a young Roger Corman.
However, I have to say that this movie here certainly comes close to at least catching a little of the weight of Bava’s own forays into the gothic horror genre (which includes movies such as Black Sunday, Black Sabbath and The Whip And The Body). There is a certain gravitas inherent in the movie from both the way the performances of the actors are pitched and from the fact that a general bleak tone is maintained throughout, propped up by some very clean and crisp black and white photography.
The story tells of Muriel, played by euro-horror queen Barbara Steele, whoo is caught making love to her manservant in the greenhouse by her husband, Dr. Stephen Arrowsmith. Being as Dr. Arrowsmith is obviously a little deranged and has a room especially set aside for his “mad experiments”, he tortures Muriel and her lover to death... but not before Muriel lets slip that she changed her will and her sadistic husband won’t inherit her castle. Instead she has willed it to her deranged, step sister Jenny who is recovering from her mental health problems in a sanitarium.
After Dr. Arrowsmith finishes killing Muriel and her lover, he takes out their hearts and uses their blood to youngify the old housekeeper woman so they can become lovers... just why he got this idea is anyone’s guess.
Somehow, after a short period of time set between shots, Dr. Arrowsmith returns to the castle with his new wife, Muriel’s step sister Jenny (also played by Barbara Steele but this time with blonde hair) and there seems to be no explanation as to why everyone is just accepting Muriel’s death without any question.
The plot from here on in seems simple... the Doctor and the housekeeper must drive Jenny insane so they can get the will ... and to act as a witness to this, they’ve hired her last Doctor from the sanitarium to come and treat her. So far so good, but it soon transpires that all is not well within the castle walls. Jenny, for instance, has dreams flashing back to the night that Muriel and her lover were killed. And of course, the young Doctor brought in to “witness” Jenny becomes the films other half, along with Jenny, of a "romantic development." Added to this, there’s the housekeeper, whose young countenance could slip any minute and whom needs periodic top ups of the blood of the two sisters in exchange for her own immortality.
Needless to say, the ghosts of Muriel and her lover come to sort things out at the end... and there’s a general creepiness to the way Barbara Steele looks in the part of the resurrected Muriel as one half of her face is hideously deformed, although she covers the whole right side of it with her long black hair... this and the long, diaphanous white dress she wears while slowly creeping towards her victims in her vengeance make her the perfect forerunner of Sadako from the Japanese Ringu movies. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the producers and directors of those smash hits of 90s J-horror had been, in part, influenced by this movie.
However, things take a turn for the worse again when the surviving members of the household, Jenny and her romantic interest, are equally pursued by the two ghosts but, luckily, this is where the hearts that Dr. Arrowsmith removed from them after he killed them come into play because, once they are destroyed by “our hero”, the to ghosts disappear up their own ectoplasm at the speed of... well... “cross cutting shots” I guess.
Morricone’s music provides a very strong melody base in a piano theme played by both incarnations of Barbara Steele and the music even has a contribution to the world of the film in that it’s the music Muriel plays to summon her lover and give him the all clear. The theme is heard in various interpretations throughout the film, pitched against more atonal selections which you may be more familiar with from Morricone’s horror and giallo writing. This, pitched against the standout photography and languid pacing of the movie where a pan or dolly shot is much favoured over the use of cutting between places, gives the film a certain edge which is undeniable when compared to a lot of the lesser efforts of the genre.
The attitude towards torture in the first reel is, perhaps, rather strong from what you’d expect in a 1965 movie... but having said that, I would certainly recommend it to fans of the slow, relentlessly paced gothic horror as something they might enjoy. One thing I will say again though is this... don’t believe the DVD sleeve. This is not as good as Mario Bava!
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