The Horror of Party Beach (1964)

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All right, I know that seems like an overblown grade to give a cheap beach party horror movie but, for once, the movie delivers everything that the poster promised!  And, for once, the movie is never boring!  The 78 minute run time could have gone on for, hell, another 10 or 15 minutes and I wouldn’t have minded one bit!  Not only is producer/director Del Tenney’s The Horror of Party Beach a hoot and half, it has all of the elements of a great, early 60s drive-in picture!

In fact, the film’s opening immediately drew me in with its fast paced tracking shot of a group of motorcyclists following behind the movie’s main character Hank Green (John Scott) and his lady Tina (Marilyn Clark) in a car, speeding down the road while surf music played.  Regardless of what the film would be about, I was already hooked.  Shortly after we learn that Hank’s and Tina’s relationship is on the rocks because Hank has grown up and has become a scientist while Tina only has one “experiment” on her mind, heh heh…

Of course, all that romantic mumbo-jumbo is just a red herring that detracts from what the film is really about; a bunch of cool looking, rubber monsters that walk around violently killing people for no particular reason.

The opening scene after the title sequence is equally awesome.  As mentioned earlier, it’s evocative of everything cool about early 60s pop culture, including the frat/surf rock band the Del-Aires rockin’ ‘n’ rollin’ to a bunch of swinging beach cats, who dance around all care free like a bunch of goofy, early 60s cats would do – albeit with a really nice ass closeup.  Then Hank gets in a fight with one of the local bikers over Tina before the film cuts to a ship which hauls around barrels of toxic waste.  One of the ship’s inhabitants doesn’t think twice about emptying the contents into the water and, well, I don’t think I have to tell you the rest.

The film most certainly delivers; the monsters kill a lot of people.  People are introduced in the film just to be killed!  There’s an obnoxious group of girls at a sleepover that make you think the film is turning too corny and then they all get slaughtered by the monster, and then there’s a trio of sassy broads who say a bunch of suggestive stuff to a gas station employee before also getting killed!  At first I thought the monster was just killing women but there were male victims as well.

My only complaint is that I wasn’t exactly sure what effect they were going for.  When the monster kills its first victim, the camera turns away Psycho-style and it looks as though ooze is flowing down the victim’s leg.  It turns out that ooze was in fact supposed to be gore, which we later see in closeup.

Eventually Hank and his scientist pals figure out how to dispatch the monsters bringing the movie to its expected finale.  Again, great movie with some neat killings and fun early 60s vibe.  Also it’s an absolute fact that, no matter how outdated some of the elements in this and similar films are, black Levis, motorcycles and curvy cuties in stretch pants will never go out of style.  If only the ladies figured out to get tattoos back then.

Primitive Love (1964)

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Again, let me stress, the rating system is based simply on how much I enjoyed watching the movie.  It’s not a recommendation to anyone who reads this unless you like films that are very bizarre.  If you’re one of Roger Ebert’s contested “geek show” lovers, then this mondo fits the bill perfectly.  Yeah, I watch mondos.  I have no shame.

Primitive Love is bizarre even by mondo standards though.  This movie came on the same DVD as Mondo Balordo (which I’d seen a while ago) and the two films share one thing in common aside from their being part of one of the sickest, most exploitative film sub-genres; they both star actors who were clearly not making the Hollywood a-list.  I forgot why exactly but I guess Jayne Mansfield’s career had really gone south if, after a few promising roles in films such as Frank Tashlin’s The Girl Can’t Help It and Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, she had to be in Primitive Love.  I mean, come on.

In Primitive Love Jayne Mansfield plays Dr. Jayne Mansfield – no need to name our characters – who goes to Italy to show a professor that, ahem, male attitudes towards sex are just as primitive now as they were before man became civilized.  So is the film educational?

Of course not, it’s a shock show.  If you’re not familiar with “mondos”, they are pseudo documentaries in the National Geographic style except that, rather than actually trying to teach you about different parts of the world, they just show footage of bizarre mating rituals from primitive tribes, various types of underground fetish clubs, weird religious customs and disturbing footage of animals being tortured.  Often times, when there isn’t enough footage, the filmmakers pad it with mundane stock footage and “pepper” it with narration that attempts to give the footage heavier meaning.  In Primitive Love, somewhere in Africa, some guy was playing the bongos while a woman danced.  Jayne Mansfield described this as a mating ritual or something.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Let me start from the beginning.  Primitive Love isn’t entirely a mondo.  The “documentary” portion is framed in a ridiculous sex comedy romp!  I kid you not!  I don’t know how this thing was put together but I’m assuming the producers scored some vaguely intriguing (albeit in a racist, “look at those primitives” kind of way) stock footage along with Jayne Mansfield and, well, just decided to combine the two.  It’s amusing how director Luigi Scattini (emphasis on “scat”) really tries to meld the two into a cohesive movie and boy is it weird.

For the first 15 and last 10 or so minutes (out of 77 total) two bumbling janitors that are basically a grade-z Jerry Lewis and Jerry Lewis Jr. try to get close to Mansfield in all manner of “hilarious” situation.  Mansfield does her normal thing; that high pitch squeak and suggestive behavior – coming out of a shower in towel only, feigning a strip tease, etc. – all while clarifying that she’s not interested in either of the buffoons.  The mondo portion begins after Mansfield sets up her projector for the professor and begins her “thesis.”  Unfortunately, the two moron characters don’t go away during the mondo portion.  They continuously try to sneak peeks and, when they do, picture themselves in parts of the film, daydreaming about their own African jungle fantasies with Mansfield.

One of those scenarios leads to a HILARIOUS racist joke; one of the guys sees a “witch doctor” in the documentary then turns around and sees their black manager and says, “it’s the witch doctor!”  Oh me, oh my!  How racism used to be so funny back in the day!  But, what can I say?  I watch this shit so I guess I’m a hypocrite.

Anyhoo, the mondo portion shows lots of footage of various “primitive” cultures from Africa, Asia and Brazil and, of course, the necessary animal killings and abuse.  Yes the extraction of the snake venom as an aphrodisiac, the cock fight and slaughtering of pig, chicken and crocodile were not easy on the eyes.  On the less grotesque but no less bizarre tip, a woman in China is punished for her lechery by having eggs pelted at her by her husband.

Overall, as mentioned earlier, the combination of the two entirely different concepts is very weird.  If you wanted a Jayne Mansfield sex romp that isn’t any good, you have to deal with sick mondo footage and if you wanted a mondo, well you have to deal with an honestly pretty awful, unfunny and embarrassing set of scenes before and after.  But if you’re a weirdo like me, hoo boy, are you in for a treat.

Sole Survivor (1983)

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Well, if you ask me, the poster for this movie is a tad misleading.  I know this poster was made way after the movie and references Final Destination so it should give some indication as to what this film is about.  But I don’t look at taglines; I look at pictures!  And, as far as I was concerned Sole Survivor from writer/director Thom Eberhardt, appeared to be some sort of sci-fi/horror hybrid involving a futuristic ship picking up an apparition of some sort on its radar screen.

Just look at that picture and tell me you wouldn’t assume the movie is about that!  Alas, it’s not.  It’s about fate (huge sigh), hence the tagline on the poster.  I don’t like when religious/philosophical themes are dressed up as horror films because I honestly don’t care about this kind of crap.  I don’t believe in fate or any of that nonsense so when the movie’s lead character is being chased around by an apparition, the last thing I want to picture that apparition coming from is God!  It sort of undermines the whole “scary” and “evil” thing for me.

But, hey, it was still a pretty compelling movie even if the ending left me cold.  Granted it was unexpected but I didn’t want it to happen since it made God the hero and the characters the villains or at least “destined.”  That’s my take on it.

Sole Survivor is about a TV actress named Denise Watson (Anita Skinner), who is the only person to survive a plane crash.  Her doctor/love interest Brian Richardson (Kurt Johnson) warns her that people who survive this type of stuff get the notion that they’re invincible and do crazy things like walk out in traffic, “testing” death.  But because Watson is smart and logical, she takes it all in stride.  Of course, in a movie dominated by fate, this simply won’t do.  So poor Watson basically is forced to survive near death experience after near death experience among which include a failed elevator and driving her car off the road.  Oh, and for some reason, all of it is caused by dead people who come back to life at the hands of some crazy medium.

Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make much sense.  There’s this crazy woman named Karla Davis (Caren Larkey), who keeps having visions that predict Watson’s demise.  Why?  I don’t know what that has to do with the rest of the movie but corpses come back to life.

So why did I give the movie three out of four iron crosses?  Because it was entertaining and there were some neat scary parts in it.  And I thought the Watson character was kinda cute (what can I say?  I like sassy red heads).  There were some neat shots of dead people coming to life and there were a few moments of suspense and there was a pointless but titillating game of strip poker.  The gore was kind of minimal save for the wicked plane crash at the beginning of the movie over which the camera pans over the carnage.  This gives false hope since there is only very minimal gore throughout the rest of the movie.

The Silent Scream (1980)

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According to someone on IMDB, The Silent Scream grossed $15 million at the box office.  Really?  I’d never heard of it.  No matter though.  I really wanted to like the movie and it looked as though I was definitely going to but, unfortunately, someone dropped the ball in the third act.  I would like to think there was some sort of time or budgetary restrictions and that the blame can not be placed entirely on director Danny Harris because, if that is the case, then Harris needs to back to film school 101 or something.

The Silent Scream apparently was marketed as a slasher but it’s more just a horrific thriller with very little killing or violence.  Other than its being a supposed slasher, the film’s other main draw is Barbara Steele and Yvonne de Carlo, both of whom do fine jobs in this movie.  In fact every actor does a good job with the movie as does the director in the first half or so.

The set up is well made if pretty standard but the plot doesn’t follow any of the genre cliches such as “sex = death” that are so typical to slashers.  Scotty (Rebecca Balding), Peter (John Widelock), Dorris (Julie Andelman) and Jack (Steve Doubet) are college students who move to a creepy mansion being rented out by Mrs. Engels (Yvonne de Carlo) and her geeky son Mason (Brad Reardon) for the semester.  I was fairly impressed by the characterization and the acting; not half bad for this type of movie.  All four college kids have their personality quirks and the movie builds that up – perhaps a little too much.  For instance the romance between Scotty and Jack goes on so long that it makes the movie seem more like a drama than a horror film.

The shocks start right where they should when the first kid is picked off while drunkenly passed out on the beach.  This inevitably leads to a police investigation and the tone of the movie turns towards the horrific.  So far, so good, right?  But then, the ball is dropped.  Way too much time passes until the next person is killed; albeit the kill is juxtaposed with a sex scene and the moaning and groaning occurs in tandem with the stabbing so that’s a neat trick.

But then the film delves way too much into past events and apparently just begins to reveal information way before necessary, stripping away any possible shock or twist that would occur.  It would have been way better if the Barbara Steele character wasn’t revealed until later in the movie in a Psycho-like twist.  But, alas, we see flashbacks of her attempting suicide and being taken to a psyche ward and other bits of history which are revealed to no useful end.

The end result is anti-climactic.  We’re not quite sure who the true villain is and all we really know is that the college students happen to be innocent bystanders in a family’s past squabbles, something to do with a father that was killed and some other such nonsense.  It’s unfortunate that whoever was involved couldn’t have stepped back and seen what they were making and asked what the point was.  There are a few great scenes but it doesn’t really add up to much.

How to Make a Doll (1968)

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It’s mind boggling as to what exactly constituted “watchable” enough that a movie theater would spend the money to get it.  But what do I know?  Apparently Herschell Gordon Lewis never lost a dime on any movie he made.  That makes the situation even more dire because that means people paid and were forced to sit and watch How to Make a Doll.  How the HELL on God’s green Earth was it possible for this tedious, unfunny and annoying movie to be shown in a theater?  For that matter how was it possible for Lewis to watch the finished product without any sense of guilt over ripping off the public?

This movie isn’t even worth talking about.  It was a bonus feature on the Doctor Gore DVD from Something Weird.  That means the folks at Something Weird didn’t even feel comfortable mentioning it on the cover of their DVD as part of a double feature like they usually do.

So what’s all the fuss?  H.G. “I only make exploitation films with no thought to any quality at all” Lewis made a comedy.  A fucking comedy!  As evidenced by the negative tone this review is taking, it should be painfully obvious that H.G. Lewis CAN’T DIRECT A FUCKING COMEDY!!!

So what constitutes “comedy” in the world of H.G. Lewis?  A bumbling, 32 year old college professor, who lives with his exceptionally (deliberately?) creepy mother and doesn’t notice the sexy ladies around him, goes to a make-shift, low budget looking laboratory and, with the help of a mad doctor/sleazy old man, creates women to have sex with. HIIIIILARIOUS!!!

No actually, there IS potential with this topic.  After all John Hughes made Weird Science (not that I’m a John Hughes fan, mind you) so there is potential for humor to come out of the situation.  But alas, that is not the case with this film.  There are definitely attempts at humor, primarily the professor bumbling and stumbling; he gets his tie caught in a door and has to cut a piece off in one scene and he doesn’t notice all of his students getting it on in class in another.  Oh and he drives a funny car.

The laboratory looks neat and retro futuristic, with all those outdated computers and other gadgetry, and the machine which creates the women looks like a Star Trek transporter, but daaamn is that laboratory annoying!  While the dialogue is barely audible, the laboratory sure makes a lot of the sounds!  Just a bunch of buzzing and whirring.  Also the doctor goes into the sex making machine to make more sex with the women he creates.  God this movie sucks.

Honestly, after 2/3 of this pile of tedium, the novelty wears off and you just want it to end.  And, to be perfectly honest, the fact that I couldn’t hear a lot of dialogue combined with the numbing tedium made it difficult for me to really get what was going on by the third act.  I guess he got sick of the crazy life he created for himself and wanted to settle down with a real woman he loves?  If that IS the case, then it means technically the climax occurs at least 15 minutes before the movie actually ends.  I don’t know, it’s all such a blur at this point.

The poster is also completely misleading; “Will sexy girls overrun the country?”  Who knows?  Maybe?  Either way this question is never even broached in How to Make a Doll or, rather, if it was, I couldn’t hear it because of all the annoying sounds being made in that laboratory!

The Body Shop (1973)

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All righty!  This is what I’m talking about!  Here we have a creepy, sick, disturbing and underrated splatter classic from writer/director J.G. Patterson Jr., who worked with and drew inspiration from H.G. Lewis but managed to make a movie that is actually kind of good!  The Body Shop – also known as Doctor Gore (a better title IMO) – serves as a prototype for Re-Animator with its theme of a doctor that tries to bring his dead wife back to life.

Now I don’t know if Stuart Gordon was inspired by The Body Shop but the main, glaringly obvious thematic difference between the two movies is that Dr. Brandon (played by Patterson) had no altruistic goal in mind.  In fact, when I said he wanted to resurrect his wife, I meant to say he wanted to create a really hot woman from the parts of other women and bang her a whole lot.  I’m not kidding!  How else could a creepazoid like that get a woman?  Well he did inherit his dead, rich actress wife’s will but I digress.

According to the poster above, The Body Shop was filmed entirely in North Carolina but why does the doctor’s house look like a castle you’d find on the European country side?  Was his house that big?  Pretty crazy.  Within the house is where the doctor does his experiments assisted by a typical, cliche laboratory hunchback who just wants the doctor to fix his body.  The doctor of course has other goals in mind; that is to assemble the parts of female corpses to create the ultimate super woman.

The story gets a little strange at this point though.  You see the doctor apparently has the capability to seduce and/or hypnotize women into going back to his lab, where he proceeds to cut off a leg, arm or whatever is necessary.  But, if he’s such a charmer, why does he NEED to assemble a woman in the first place?  He picks up one victim from a local bar where undiscovered country heroes Bill Hicks and the Rainbows are performing.

I suppose his seducing women just to use them to build his “super woman” adds to his being a completely loathsome character with no redeeming qualities.  And, to be sure, the scenes are hella gorey!  It’s obvious how the effects were created; whether it be a carefully hidden limb or a “severed” head sticking out from somewhere but the fact is the effects look real and gross.  The doctor cuts off limbs, cuts open torsos, cuts out eyes and does a whole bunch of unsavory things with his creepy set of surgical tools.

Eventually he builds a woman and she definitely is quite hot.  He attempts to teach her stuff the way a parent would teach a little kid.  But, as these things typically do, the plot goes awry and, well, I’m not going to spoil it for you.  The Body Shop has its obvious flaws with the least of them being its miniscule budget.  There are moments that don’t make that much sense and an ending that’s a tiny bit confusing but as a whole, it’s worth the 80 minutes you’ll spend watching it.

Color Me Blood Red (1965)

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I don’t want to ruffle any feathers and cause any brain aneurisms at the thought that your entire world might be turned around by this ground breaking statement but Herschell Gordon Lewis is a lousy director.  Don’t get me wrong; I love his stuff and I’ve seen all his movies but they’re not any good.  Gordon has more or less said that he’s not aiming for any artistic merit but just to entertain.  And that’s the problem!  Unless he’s filling the screen with gore, violence, perversion or just nogoodniks doing nogoodniky things, he really sucks!

Case in point: Color Me Blood Red.  I saw this one a while ago and remembered it being way more entertaining but, upon second viewing, I was surprised by how boring this movie is.  80 minutes that seem interminable.  And I don’t want to turn potential viewers away from the films of H.G. Lewis by such a negative assessment so I’ll at least attempt to explain what Color Me Blood Red is all about and why I think it failed at doing what it was supposed to do.

After leaving the world of nudie cuties (which he’d later return to), Lewis with producer David F. Friedman set for the uncharted territory of wanton gore and splatter.  As evidenced by Blood Feast which caused a traffic jam upon its inaugural showing at a drive-in, it worked and Lewis/Friedman had a new gimmick to exploit.  And yes, Blood Feast, 2000 Maniacs, Color Me Blood Red, The Gruesome Twosome, The Wizard of Gore and The Gore Gore Girls are all very gross, bloody and gory; just as bad – possibly worse – than a lot of popular R rated slasher films.

The problem is that stuff has to happen between the gore sequences.  Lewis not only is lousy at his direction, which consists of home video quality photography that often sits on nothing in particular but also can’t build up suspense worth a damn.  I won’t bash the horrendous sound since he probably could only afford one boom mic.  This leaves only two things to enjoy; the hokey acting and the gore.  The gore movies especially are unique since, instead of horny teenagers who bang within 10 minutes of the opening credits, you get to see an immense level of gore juxtaposed with 1950s-early 60s “golly, gee whiz!” dialogue and action.  Color Me Blood Red just has way too much of the latter.

Color Me Blood Red is sort of an update of Roger Cormon’s artistically superior A Bucket of Blood.  In that film an artist killed people and covered them in clay, producing works of “art” for pretentious, know-it-all critics.  In Color Me Blood Red, the artist Adam (Don Joseph) uses human blood to give his canvas extra color.  Guess how he gets it.  Aside from the hilariously sickening scene of him passing out from using too much of his own blood, he begins to kill people and use theirs.

Unsurprisingly the local critics really love his work; violent, sick and daring!  Soon the body count picks up until a group of local kids gets wind to what he’s doing when they discover a rotting corpse on his beach side property.  Seems like a hoot, right?  It would be if there was more killing!  He stabs his annoying fiance, runs through someone with a harpoon on a motorboat and uses a woman’s lower intestine to color his canvas but there are just too many scenes of beach party bingo nonsense and goofy kids literally doing nothing.  They splash each other, crack corny jokes and frolic about but remain remarkably un-killed!  BOOORRRRIIIING!!!  And these are the annoying kids that I wanted to see get killed!  And he doesn’t kill a single one of them!  Arrrrghghgh!!!

Wilbur and the Baby Factory (1970)

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For further proof of how wonky the rating system was prior to when the MPAA figured it all out (meaning that, if the major studios do it, it’s okay but if independents do, we’ll make you slice up your movie until there’s barely anything left), here an interesting picture for you that absolutely did not deserve its X rating.  When I surveyed the trailers on the Something Weird DVD from which Wilbur and the Baby Factory came from, it seemed that all of the films were pornography.  As evidenced by Tanya, the other film featured on this DVD, that would appear to be the case.  However I was delightfully surprised by Wilbur and the Baby Factory.

While no masterpiece, Wilbur and the Baby Factory is a bizarre and intriguing counter-culture thriller with only minimal amounts of sex.  You would think otherwise if you saw the trailer since the trailer only shows you the sex scenes but the sex scenes in the trailer are the extent of the sex scenes in the movie.

Wilbur… is about a genuine “for the people”, social worker named Wilbur Steele (Peter Ford), who leaves his post at a non-prophet organization – the kind which helps old ladies keep their homes from greedy banks, etc. – to be part of a strange experiment where his sole purpose is to sire children.  The program is run by a group of scientists led by Dr. Wednesday (Keith McConnell) and on a Eugenics type mission to control the Earth’s population so it’s not overrun by undesirables.  Their current subject seemed to have lost his mind as evidenced by scenes of a crazy looking guy who takes to strangling women in the heat of passion.  Wilbur, who seems ambivalent to the project at first, questions the scientists about how love and human emotions play into the whole thing.  The answer of course is that they don’t.

What the scientists didn’t anticipate is that Wilbur is ultimately planning a sabotage, hence the footage cut to the guy listening in his van via wire tap.  That doesn’t prevent Wilbur from doing a whole lotta fucking though.  Again, the sex *scenes* aren’t too gratuitous with a few exceptions that might push the boundaries of our modern NC-17 rating but are no worse than say, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.  The majority of the film is actually  a pretty compelling story; from Wilbur’s training sessions to get him “up to speed”, to conversations between Wilbur and the doctors and various other side plots.  The most interesting of these is Karen and Kristine, twin sister played by adorable, German red head Larissa Schubert.  One is normal, the other a nympho who admitted how much she liked getting gang banged when she was 10 years old in the most dry, matter of fact way possible.

Also what makes the movie also watchable is that it’s actually well made and looks nice!  Writer/director Tom McGowen actually knows subtlety with the camera and the scenes just look cool; very 60s, mind you with make shift sets and antiquated, retro-futuristic technology, but cool nonetheless.  The film also uses some neat editing tricks like the aforementioned cross cutting to the spy van and the freak who keeps strangling the women during experiments.  There’s also a few original tunes thrown into the movie for good measure; a mixture of folk and psychedelia to give it that timely feel.

Tanya (1976)

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On a Something Weird double feature DVD with Wilbur and the Baby Factory, the movie Tanya makes me question if the Something Weird guys are really just gussied up porn peddlers.  I mean, come on… Tanya is seriously just wall to wall sex.  There are maybe a couple minute of dialogue or other stuff other than sex.  And, to be sure, these are not soft core scenes.  Okay you don’t see full on penetration, but it’s pretty clear the “actors” in the film are having real sex.

Tanya was inspired by the 1974 Patty Hearst kidnapping, in which a high society girl gets napped by a group of radical, left wing revolutionary types who set out to make a statement.  The only statement they make is how much they like sex.  There are five members in the group, their radical black leader Cinque (B.B. Hinds), an overweight white guy who looks like David Crosby, two white chicks and a black chick.  Then enter Tanya (Maria Arnold), a sexy but innocent woman who is about to be married but very quickly learns that bedding with every other character is so much more fun.

And that’s the plot!  The kidnappers kidnap the girl, she fucks everyone, the end!  There are little bits in between involving a news reporter on a black and white TV, whose role is pretty useless and there are scenes of dialogue, usually your typical left wing mumbo-jumbo, one scene where they kill a police officer – it’s implied that Tanya exerts him to death with sex but we are not exactly sure – one scene where Cinque uses raid to kill some bugs and a few pointless, outdoor training sequences.  But, other than that, there’s just sex and more sex.  In fact, just to show how much fucking Tanya does, there is a montage of the same sex scenes we already saw earlier.  With the exception of one exterior shot and the news reporter’s studio, the majority of the movie takes place in a dingy, wooden hideout.

The sex was somewhat erotic – involving all types of positions and approaches that need no description –  barring the scenes with the overweight, balding David Crosby lookalike.  And that about covers it.

A Band Called Death (2013)

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Well there you have it folks; the poster says it all… but that’s not really true.  Come on.  Maybe some people think that “before there was punk, there was a band called Death”, but we all know the truth; you could just as easily say “before there was punk there was a band called the Stooges, MC5, New York Dolls, Modern Lovers, Dictators, Electric Eels, Mirrors, Rocket from the Tombs, Simply Saucer, Dogs and a bunch of 60s garage bands.”  The fact is that, had Death released their music in 1975, they would have been one of many bands like the Dictators or the Flamin’ Groovies whose pre-punk brand of rock would have won an audience among the hip, “in the know” people of the era while the rest of the mainstream would remain oblivious.

Now that I’ve got the negative part of the review out of the way, let’s discuss why I thought A Band Called Death is a good movie!  Well, it’s a not a good movie or a good documentary.  Our filmmakers Mark Christopher Covino and Jeff Howlett aren’t exactly artistes or have a whole lot of style.  They just stumble their way through the film and are helped by the genuine fact that they’re telling a compelling story.  The work was sort of done for them.  Either way, I liked it.

Death was founded by David, Bobby and Dannis Hackney, three of eight children, who were spiritually awoken upon watching the Beatles perform on the Ed Sullivan show in 1964.  It wasn’t long before David picked up the guitar, Bobby went on bass and Dannis sat behind the drum kit.  At first they played a mixture of funk and rock but, by 1974, they officially coined themselves Death because, as David Hackney said, “death is real” and went for pure rock ‘n’ roll.

As the story goes, Death amassed some wickedly killer material – a hard rock/punk rock hybrid of hard edge Who riffs and Hendrix-y solos – and thrashed it out in their local Detroit ‘hood for a few years, annoyed the local neighbors who probably preferred the sound of Motown over loud rock, recorded a demo, ditched a major label deal because Dave Hackney didn’t want to change the group’s name, relocated to that punk rock central known as… Vermont, changed their name to the 4th Movement and became a Christian rock band. After releasing one record, they broke up, Dave Hackney moved back to Detroit and the rest of the band hooked up with new players and became a reggae band called Lambsbread.

Then, years later, a few savvy record collectors discovered a Death 7″ single for the songs “Keep on Knocking” b/w “Politicians in My Eyes”, which went for a small fortune on eBay and the living members (David Hackney passed away in 2000) dug up the old tapes out of their Detroit attic and authorized their release as the album …For the Whole World to See.  The band toured with their kids’ band Rough Francis in the support and everyone lived happily ever after or something.

Again, let me stress, I like Death a lot.  A lot lot.  Their record is awesome!  They have a second one called Spiritual Mental Physical, which has a bunch of demos on it and that one is also great.  And the story of discovering old tapes is always interesting. But it’s not unique.  In fact, two years ago there was a documentary on Pentagram whose story, though not exactly the same, has similar parallels.  The point is I’m glad the record came out and that Death got their due.  In my estimation though, they should have told brother David Hackney, “listen dude, we’re changing our goddamn name because Arista have a deal for us” or, at very least, they could have moved to New York where there was a punk scene like the Dead Boys did.

As for the movie, we get some neat tour footage, some interviews, some spiced up photos, a tour of the old house, etc., but nothing that will blow you away.  Like I said, the story speaks for itself.  Oh, one last thing; the interview subjects outside Death and their group of close friends/family were Henry Rollins, Alice Cooper, Kid Rock, Mickey Leigh (Joey Ramone’s younger brother), Elijah Wood (?!) and some record collectors.  Come on, kids… where was Iggy, Niagra, Wayne Kramer or any of the underground heroes of Detroit’s rock scene?