Paul Naschy’s attempt at a black-gloved (and red pants’ed) killer giallo feels like result of a twisted game of telephone. All the cornerstones of the genre are there, but there’s something off-kilter about it all. Naschy plays a cigar chomping cop investigating a series of murders involving drug addicts and prostitutes. Before he knows it, the murders start to affect he circle of hip, pervy friends. The movie has its moments, but they are few and far between and the extremely weak plot does it no favors.
The image here is based on some ideas I had for a more involved piece. Lately, I’ve been reading about and re-visiting a bunch of Goya’s art so highwaymen and other scofflaws were on my mind. I had this small wood block and thought this image of a man holding a knife would look good at that scale.
Process Photos
the original drawingtransfer to blockblock drawing comparisonprints hanging to dry
Paul Naschy is back to his old tricks. Yes, once again he’s killing animals for your cinematic enjoyment. Ok, it’s nowhere near as gruesome as Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll, but still, rats are people too. In this one, Naschy plays a hunchback who is teased, put-upon and also happens to work in a morgue. He spends most of the movie needlessly killing people who have wronged him and also unknowingly helping a mad scientist create a blobby monster. This film is weird, gory, and somehow managed to keep my attention throughout it’s runtime.
This is a horror anthology film featuring two stories, one by George Romero and the other by Dario Argento. The Romero one feels like a Creepshow 2 reject. It’s a standard inheritance plot with the supernatural twist of corpse talking and hypnotism. It does its job but is really too long and has none of the humor and flair of the Creepshow movies. Argento’s offering is yet another in the endless series of Italian directors making a version of Poe’s The Black Cat. This is Argento at his absolute worst. Nothing makes logical sense, Harvey Keitel is absolutely hating having to be in this movie, and gone is any of Argento’s stylism. It’s downright embarrassing to watch.
Donald Sutherland is miscast as the titular Casanova in this beautiful looking interpretation of that story. Every colorful frame of this movie is a surreal compositional masterpiece. Unfortunately, the hodgepodge of a story here doesn’t really work and gets downright tiresome for the last third. I guess this is supposed to be a comic satire and maybe it would make more sense if I was better familiarized with Italian sex comedies. It mostly serves as a study of a pompous, arrogant fool whose life is lonely and empty of real meaning despite his many sexual conquests. Huzzah, art!
The Paul Naschy Collection II went on sale and, of course, I had to get it. I’m starting off by watching this obvious cash-in on The Exorcist in which Naschy plays a priest who is asked to help out a young girl who was in a car accident, is dating a druggy, goes to secret pagan ceremonies, and also is possessed by a demon.
As you can see, the make-up effects are pretty great, but you don’t really get to the expected writhing and cursing until the last ten minutes. Most of the build-up to the final confrontation is pretty slow and unimpressive. Sure you get to see a group of naked cultists and a snapped neck or two, however there is no real tension or suspense. I won’t say I was bored and I do love the style, but this could have used a little more effort.
This is your standard mass-market artist overview with plenty of high quality color images. The writing is to the point, informative, and does what it needs to do. My only complaint is that several of the larger images are presented as two-page spreads, causing the centers of the images to be lost within in the binding of the book.
This is from one of those mass market art book series, Crown Art Library. I’m a sucker for these short, generalized overviews of artists and their work. Unfortunately, the writing in this one feels like a bad translation. Only in the last few pages do we get concrete details about Ensor’s life, but, as always, the writing is second banana to the art itself. The book is filled with high quality images of Ensor’s work which make it worth having.
Quite frankly I was bored by this litany of Scottish people and their ancestors and all their accomplishments. I get it. Scotland produced a lot of talented thinkers. I supposed the first several chapters were laying the historical groundwork as to why the Scots are such go getters, but I really didn’t see the connection. To me, it all just seemed like a who’s who of the kilted set. And of course we all know the Greeks invented everything, amirite?
The 1944 classic is apparently the second film version of the play Gaslight. This version takes its time establishing the main characters and initially feels a bit cheesy. But once the main plot kicks in the acting starts to improve and it’s just as tense as any modern thriller. Bergman’s final monologue is a great payoff but they couldn’t resist throwing in a corny joke at the end.
