Unseen Terror 2018: Days 8 & 9

*sigh*
I didn't expect for this to happen within only the first week of this year's marathon. As (unfortunately) per usual, I'm a bit behind on not necessarily my viewings, but my reviews themselves. Thankfully, there's at least three movies spread across these past two days, so that is assuredly a plus, right?

Anyway, let's just do this damn thing. I need to try and adjust my sleeping schedule again to something that resembles a mammal's.

There's a special kind of "bad" attached to horror pictures from the latter half of the 1950s. While there was certainly an assortment of genuinely good projects being released (Creature from the Black Lagoon, Invasion of the Body Snatchers), the populace was also subjected to just a barrage of glorified "Drive-in" flicks. More often than not, these weren't the type of films that were going to blow your mind, but only served as something to sit back and watch with your loved one as you attempted to make that frightening "first move." Now, before you read any further ramblings or opinions on this little picture, I want you to take one good look at the poster for 1959's The Wasp Woman, which revolves around an older woman in the cosmetics field who takes a new, experimental youth potion derived from wasp jelly, but is surprised by what side effects occur. Grandiose and rather striking, isn't it? Well, that's about the most memorable aspect of the movie, because despite what is advertised on that piece of art, you aren't getting a gigantic insect with the head of a woman. Instead, the titular monster looks more akin to a cheap knockoff of the creature from The Fly, which was released one year prior to this. It isn't entirely surprising to find out that this was produced and directed by 'B' movie kingpin Roger Corman, as he's never exactly been shy about releasing motion pictures that recall (then) recent efforts. But unlike some distributors of the modern day era, he isn't going to lie to the audience, and at the very least, he'll try his damnedest to entertain you, and given how gleefully over-the-top everyone in The Wasp Woman is, he's certainly trying.

And then, there is The Giant Claw. Not only does this poster lie to the audience, but as I'll discuss below, it deceived the performers that were involved in the actual production! In the case of this infamous 1957 turkey, I was fully aware of its existence. I recalled seeing a trailer multiple times on my Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies VHS tape, and if luck is on my side, I'll be able to cross every movie featured on that relic from my childhood off of my bucket list by the end of 2019. After nearly twenty-five years, I can now finally say that I've finished this one in its entirety, but oh man, writing a review of this picture without busting out laughing was kind of difficult. Plot-wise, it's your standard "giant monster" flick, with a giant winged beast appearing seemingly out of nowhere to terrorize the world. What surprised me the most while watching The Giant Claw was how sincere lead actor Jeff Morrow is. He's treating this the same way that actors treated the original King Kong or Gojira. Heck, now that I think about it, the rest of the supporting cast isn't too shabby either. But then, I found out that there was a twist to this entire experience. They didn't know that they were supposed to be in awe of THIS:

Yep. It turns out that all of the actors and actresses involved with The Giant Claw were completely unaware of how goofy and dumb-looking the behemoth buzzard was going to look (legendary designer Ray Harryhausen was originally attached to create it, but they had to cut that due to budget restraints). Much to their horror, its design and just plain awfulness was revealed at the movie's premiere, where Morrow reportedly snuck out of the theater while the audience laughed their collective asses off. I can't say that I blame him either, because you just can't be scared by something that looks like a Looney Tunes character with mange.



It must be said that while neither of these two movies will ever come close to the films that they were clearly inspired by, their influence on others over the past several decades can be felt. Heck, if you look at the stories, last year's entertaining Rejuvenatrix shares a lot in common with The Wasp Woman, and The Giant Claw could be the grandfather of bad movie masterpieces like Birdemic. If you're going to purchase either of these schlocky experiences on home video (Corman's flick can be found streaming for free on Amazon Prime, and The Giant Claw is available in an assortment of DVD collections), then I strongly suggest you grab a large pizza, a case of beer, and some friends that can appreciate some good old fashioned cheese.



Do be careful with the alcohol though. If you take a shot for every time that The Giant Claw is described to be "as big as a battleship," you'll end up dead before the first act is over.






Well, now that Day 7 has concluded, let's get a little more serious for the eighth one.

Figuring that I needed to take a break from the "B" movies (and that I desperately craved something that could at least warrant a rating of two stars in an unironic sort of way), I decided to welcome Mr. Clive Barker back to this year's marathon. Prior to pressing play, my memories of 1995's Lord of Illusions were fairly nonexistent. The only distinguishing things that I can recall about the picture were some trailers, the fact that it was based on another short story from his "Books of Blood," a couple of nifty posters, and a finale that was supposedly rather insane (though it seems like that's a given in the case of most of the man's creations). Our plot revolves around private investigator Harry D'Amour, who comes into contact with members of a fanatical cult that seem to be fully intent on resurrecting someone dubbed "The Puritan." It turns out that Nix, the man in question, is the seemingly-deceased head of these followers, and had discovered how to utilize real magic. Before he could cause real harm to the world, he was murdered by his top pupil, and buried where no soul could ever find him. That is about as much information that I can give you about Lord of Illusions, as further discussion could find me diving headfirst into spoiler territory.


The very first thing I noticed in Lord of Illusions was the presence of Kevin J. O'Connor. Just when I thought that I had escaped his annoyingness after Deep Rising, he has returned to haunt me until I go mad and pull out every useful part on and inside of my head. Much to my surprise though, he is far more likeable this time around, and as an integral part of helping move the story along, he is written to be the opposite of a comedic relief. It also blew my mind to see another face from Deep Rising pop up in the form of Famke Janssen, and while I'm sure that was just coincidence, it still weirded me out quite a bit. Unfortunately, she's probably the weakest link in the acting department, but her character isn't the most developed of the bunch so it's hard to blame her. Scott Bakula of Quantum Leap fame plays our hero, who is apparently one of the only recurring characters in Barker's stories (he's even crossed over into the world of the cenobites). He is putting one hundred percent into this performance, and it makes me wish that we had continued to see further Barker-related adventures involving this guy. He shares some similarities with other fictional males like John Constantine, though he could probably never come close to how much shenanigans and weirdness that the Alan Moore creation has collected over the past several decades.


Considering the title of this particular motion picture, you would expect that the visual aesthetics of Lord of Illusions would stand out from the crowd. The good news is that the set pieces and color schemes certainly evoke a mood and world that is unmistakably Clive Barker. It isn't hard to tell the difference between a flick that he directs (Hellraiser, Nightbreed) and one that he merely writes or attaches his name to (Rawhead Rex, Book of Blood). The third act, which was indeed quite hectic, also sports some very creepy imagery and effects that could really get under one's skin. The bad news however is that the movie does sport some iffy green screen and computer-generated effects that while not completely abhorrent or severely dated, can occasionally take you out of the experience. Still, it's only a tiny bruise on an otherwise very good-looking project.


While it can't really stand up to previously-released motion pictures like Nightbreed, Hellraiser, or Hellbound: Hellraiser II, I still think that Lord of Illusions is worth a watch. It sports a fun narrative that never bores you, a cast of kooky and memorable characters (it could be hard for Super Troopers fans to look at Daniel von Bargen again without seeing bugs crawl out of his eye sockets), and some nifty violence that only the Brit himself could concoct. If you're interested in completing your Clive Cinematic Collection, Lord of Illusions can be purchased on Blu-ray from the always reliable Scream! Factory. However, if you're feeling cheap, it's also available to stream for Amazon Prime members for the low, low price of absolutely nothing.



As an added bonus, you can also check out the concept record from defunct heavy metal band Nevermore, who sampled the movie for their classic "Dreaming Neon Black" record. Brownie points for whoever can actually make out those samples as well.




Tomorrow, I'm one step closer to my birthday, and I'm feeling like I need something to close out thirty-two in proper fashion....

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 3

The Japanese have launched a probe dubbed "Helios 7" into space, in the hopes that it will study the planet Jupiter and return to earth after three and a half years with a collection of data. Unknown to everyone, the device is overtaken by an alien entity, and Helios 7 is later seen careening towards the South Pacific. It crashes into the water, and the "passenger" exits after choosing to inhabit the body of a cuttlefish. In the meantime, photographer Taro Kudo has gathered an entourage to head to the mysterious Selgio Island, which is rumored to contain giant creatures previously unseen by the human eye. While there, they meet some island natives and discover that they worship something referred to as "Gezora," which is revealed to look very similar to a certain type of mollusk found under the sea...



Since its inception in 2011, I've tried to include at least one Kaiju-related project for Unseen Terror. The results have been rather mixed (to say the least), but I've been lucky enough to be exposed to solid flicks like the Japanese cut of Rodan and 2016's stunningly great Shin Godzilla. That doesn't mean that a fanatic such as myself has seen every "guy in a suit" movie released to date though, and given how wide Toho's catalog is, there's bound to be a few flicks that slipped through my hands when given an opportunity to watch them for this marathon. In 2018, one such movie is 1970's Space Amoeba (a.k.a. Yog-Monster From Space), which was the first foray into that decade from noteworthy distributors Toho Co. It's amassed a small following, but is mostly forgotten by casual fans of this genre. After sitting through its running time of eighty-four minutes, perhaps there's a valid reason for that.


One very important thing to remember about Space Amoeba is that it marked the first Toho Kaiju Eiga project without the involvement of Eiji Tsuburaya. For those of you who are not aware of that name, he is most well known as the special effects director for the Godzilla franchise, and even helped co-create the "Big G." He is also the mastermind behind the equally influential Ultraman series, and is viewed as a rather prolific and important person in the realm of Japanese cinema. Due to his sudden death, I'm certain that the crew and figureheads were still reeling from this loss, and his absence can be felt throughout. Nothing feels quite as impactful without his supervision from behind the scenes, and the usual staples found in previous entries of the studio's filmography seem underwhelming this time around. The special effects, though somewhat competent, feel slightly average rather than vibrant. On the flip side, Space Amoeba manages to sport three different monsters that are actually all fairly neat, if not unspectacular in terms of designs. The giant cuttlefish Gezora looks great when he isn't actually attempting to "walk," and his brief appearances underwater aren't too shabby either. The giant matamata turtle Kamoebas is perfectly serviceable too, and kind of cute in an ugly sort of way. Giant crab Ganime is perhaps the biggest disappointment, as its screen time is mostly limited to the final seven minutes or so, and it fails to deal any real damage to our heroes or the island natives. Only two out of these three beasts would see returns to this world over the next several decades, though one is via stock footage and the other as a corpse post-Godzilla attack.


Plot-wise Space Amoeba is a bit jumbled, though certainly unique. There were moments where I had to pause the picture just to try and put all of the pieces together without saying "Why are these people here exactly?" The plain jane characters don't necessarily help to keep your attention either, and the usually great director Ishiro Honda can't get series veterans like Akira Kubo (Destroy All Monsters, Throne of Blood) and Kenji Sahara (Mothra vs. Godzilla, War of the Gargantuas) to turn in performances that even by "giant monster movie" standards are still fairly weak. Worse yet, the score provided by the tremendously talented Akira Ifukube is nothing to write home about compared to what he's capable of turning in (Space Amoeba's most memorable composition is just a reworked piece from King Kong vs. Godzilla). Still, as mixed up as the storyline can be, there are some rather neat aspects in Space Amoeba that you weren't really getting around the time of its release. As what I can assume is a throwback to their earliest efforts, there is no heroic, gargantuan protagonist, nor is there even military that can come for backup. It boils down to the tried and true formula of man vs beast. The concept of an organism that infects a host, causing it to grow thirty stories high, is akin to something seen in television shows like Power Rangers, and the fact that this group of humans are far from stupid is a rarity. Well, minus one specific sequence. Earlier in the picture, someone says "Well, I don't believe monsters exist until I see one." Given the future appearances of the aforementioned creatures in Godzilla sequels, then one must assume that this is all set within the same universe. There are kaiju attacks occurring nearly every year around the world, and especially in Japan. They make the news. Your taxes help pay for it. THEY. ARE. REAL. Therefore,

Space Amoeba isn't the worst Toho-produced kaiju flick that you'll see, but I could only see diehards feeling the need to own this one. Other than sporting some halfway decent designs and humans who aren't complete incompetent cannon fodder, nothing is altogether very memorable, and by the time that things finally start to get fun, most of your interest has already waned. Still, I didn't completely dislike the picture, and it could make for a fun marathon watch with some like-minded friends. This second-to-last flick directed by Ishiro Honda is free to stream for Amazon Prime members, and Tokyo Shock released a DVD quite a few years ago that is close to going out of print. So, if you have a strong desire to watch city folk fight against a giant crab that also briefly fights against a giant long-necked turtle, you might want to make that purchase as soon as you can.



If you can't act in time, then maybe you should just turn on a BBC doc-

….Crap, I already made that joke.




Anyway, come back tomorrow for day 4, where in space, nobody can hear you rip off other franchises...

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 3

Commander James Bradley, a no-nonsense military scientist stationed on Japan's Kunashiroshima Island, has been conducting a series of experiments consisting of desalinizing the surrounding waters. His worrisome wife Anna tells him that these processes are causing the island natives great stress, but he begins to think of ways to negotiate with the villagers so that he may continue. After the testing begins, they awaken a fearful and frightful "obake" nicknamed Varan, who many of the residents worship and consider to be a deity of the lake. To the surprise of nobody, the beast goes berserk, beginning to lay waste to everything in its path, while humanity attempts to concoct different ways in which to stop him.


In recent months, I have tried my absolute best to refrain from using strong language on this blog, as there is always the chance that an employer or family member may be popping in to read one of these reviews that I type up every so often. Mind you, the occasional curse word still slips out from time to time, and given the amount of bad movies that occasionally stumble into the Unseen Terror pile, it seems inevitable. After all, do you realize how hard it is to summarize one's thoughts on a movie like Don't Go In The Woods or Pinocchio's Revenge without using the terms "fucking" and "awful" in the same sentence? It is perhaps the hardest thing that I have to deal with during these long marathons.


But, when it comes to a picture such as Varan The Unbelievable, there is no way to mince words. It is a colossal piece of dried-up shit. As I have touched upon in previous entries, I do not always have a particular fondness for when American film studios thoroughly butcher something that comes over to the states. In the case of Daikaiju Baran, one of the first non-Godzilla related monster movies to come from Japan's Toho Co. and the final one to be shot and released in black & white, it was acquired four years after its initial release by the independent company known as Crown International Pictures, who are more renowned for releasing an assortment of "B" movies, including the Ed Wood-written Orgy of the Dead and The Beast of Yuca Flats. Come to think of it, "butchering" may not even be the most appropriate term to use when it comes to CIP's handling of Varan. Because while it is highly likely that both iterations of the final product are still silly overall (this was my first viewing of either edition), the Americanized flick looks and feels like it was horrendously gutted, as a humongous amount of the original release has either been erased or replaced by a plethora of scenes created solely because they were afraid of audiences being turned off by a cast led by non-white actors. The mostly new cast is led by Myron Healey, who was known primarily for his work in Western-themed television shows during the 1950s and 1960s. He is fully aware that he is starring in a release geared towards a certain market, but his exposition-heavy dialogue and wannabe noir narrations are the furthest thing from this film's problems.


Most of that lies in just how disrespectful this new cut feels not just to the original Japanese cast and crew, but to the people of the country altogether. Well-loved composer Akira Ifukube created some very memorable pieces for the production, with one in particular being reused and retooled in other Toho pictures throughout the years because of how powerful and effectively moody it is. So then, why did they feel the need to disregard a majority of the score and hire Albert Glasser to do a new, inadequate one? I mean, Varan is far from world-class material, but at least the former tried his damnedest, no matter how weak the entry ended up being. Anna, the Japanese wife of the aforementioned Healey and another added feature to the CIP version of the flick, is portrayed as a physically and mentally weak human being whose sole reason for existing is to act as a vagina and nothing more. While it is true that other entries in the realm of Kaiju Eiga were also guilty of not being the kindest to women (try watching Showa-era Gamera films and argue with me about this), it still feels like a big step down from other studios' managing of previous Toho efforts such as Godzilla, King of the Monsters! Worse yet, all segments involving the actual people of Japan's plights and panics dealing with Varan are either muted or flat-out not translated whatsoever. So, every time that there is a soldier on screen talking with his superior, a citizen expressing their ideas on how to deal with the monster, or anything else that you can tell was fairly interesting, they just subtitle it with "(Foreign Language)." I suppose that they are of the belief that most moviegoers in the early 60s were illiterate or xenophobic. The titular antagonist's unique roar, which would be recycled and remixed for other Toho creations such as Megalon, Baragon, and Gorosaurus, is dubbed over in place of something that sounds similar to the rumbling of a dog with an upset stomach. Various scenes involving the beast's rampages or display of abilities were also removed for the sake of time and the hope that he would look more menacing to the general public. Yes, Varan does somewhat resemble a mutated hybrid of a lizard and a flying squirrel, but why would you decide to edit out footage of the destructive behemoth in a GIANT MONSTER MOVIE? Shit, that's like cutting out scenes of the Joker in Suicide Sq---oh, wait.


All of my legitimate complaints aside, it still feels so unfair to give Varan the Unbelievable any sort of proper critiquing, as this barely resembles anything of the original Ishiro Honda-led project. Earlier in the picture, Healey's character of James Bradley utters the line "They might get a better story if they stay closer to the source material," and I couldn't have summarized this shockingly short seventy-minute-long feature any better even if I had an English professor peeking over my shoulder once every five minutes. Perhaps this often forgotten entry in the world of Kaiju Eiga will warrant another viewing in the future, and hopefully I will be able to track down a print of the original cut that aired in its native Japan. If you are into astonishingly bad edits of pictures from the east, Varan the Unbelievable is available for free streaming on Amazon Prime, and a home release of its source material, Giant Monster Varan, was distributed by Tokyo Shock and goes for more than a pretty penny on most online shopping services these days.



Still, it's highly unlikely that any print would be able to fix that silly design for the flying mode of the monster himself . Oooooooooooooooooof..




Tomorrow, Nikkatsu studios decides to get involved with this supposed "kaiju boom" that seems to be the rage with all the kids, but will their cinematic release rise like the phoenix, or crash and burn like a turkey jumping off of a cliff?