Unseen Terror 2020: Day 7

Why yes, I did indeed choose to watch a motion picture from the late 1970s about a killer, sentient (possibly possessed) vehicle rather than watch the Vice Presidential debate. Are you that surprised?

Due to some unfortunate technical issues, there had to be some random, last minute shuffling of entries for this year's marathon. This isn't something that's uncommon, but seeing as how this decision was made within say, the last four hours, it's still a tad bit irritating to have to do something like this (especially since I do NOT want to spread the entire Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise throughout the whole month. I'd rather get it done within the first half). Complaints aside, my familiarity with 1977's The Car was only having heard of it via a few random podcasts or YouTube channels. I had never seen anything more than a still image or two, and even then it didn't give me any idea of what to expect other than zaniness or maybe a more subdued version of Maximum Overdrive.

To the surprise of nobody with a working brain, The Car is absolutely, ludicrously dumb. But my goodness is it the right kind of dumb. For as much joy as a couple of the prior entries on this list have brought me, this gave me genuine laughs and had me howling during moments which were no doubt meant to elicit fear rather than chuckles. I haven't made much of an attempt to track down interviews with director Elliot Silverstein (also of Western-comedy Cat Ballou fame) but it wouldn't shock me if he was setting out to make a tongue-in-cheek parody of the wave of "blockbuster" flicks that were becoming the rage during that time period. The Car does have some of the same beats as Jaws and another Spielberg flick Duel, though it lacks some of the finesse of the latter and definitely lacks the budget of the former. This doesn't hamper the enjoyment though!

The acting is pretty hit-or-miss (I would love to know how they roped poor James Brolin into this flick), but the characters are all fairly likable and easy to root for (save for R.G. Armstrong, who they seem intent on brushing aside the fact that his character regularly hits his wife). The star of the picture though is, of course, the titular car. Bearing an unusual likeness to something lifted right out of the "Twisted Metal" games (and humorously "The Honking" from Futurama), it has an undeniably threatening aura to it. As cheesy as this movie may be, all I ask is that you utilize Google image search and visualize something like that chasing you down an open highway. Or see it "staring" at you through your kitchen window. It's no Christine, but it's still pretty darn cool-looking. The moments of vehicular manslaughter aren't nearly as violent as viewers will likely want them to be, but I'd guess that the lower budget and time when it was released are to blame for that. We DO get to see it burst through a house like a god damn slasher villain however, and that is just *chef's kiss*.

I think it's a real bummer that something as enjoyable as The Car was released to a streaming service like Netflix during a global pandemic, as this is a PERFECT in-house party movie. Gathering up a round of beers, pizza, chips, salsa, crystal meth, whatever it is you kids do these days and firing up this bad boy would make for a wonderful experience with your friends. Even still, if you just sit back, relax, turn your brain off for about ninety minutes, and let the dumb fun of The Car take you into its world, you're likely to have a lot of fun with this one.

And if you doubt how "evil" it truly is, you should know that Anton Lavey himself has a credit on this as a "technical advisor." Seriously.

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 22

Gosh. I...….just don't really know what to say about this one. Back in September, I managed to stop by the Vinegar Syndrome table at the Monster Mania convention in Maryland. Sporting one hell of a catalogue, their selection reads like a listing of forbidden fruits and obscure, buried treasures. They cover a mixture of every genre you can think of, including horror, blaxploitation, women-in-prison flicks, old school erotica, and just plain weird cinematic exploits. Based on the plot alone, I felt as though 1971's The Corpse Grinders was calling my name. Cowritten by one of the men who penned classic schlockfest Eegah and directed by Ted Mikels, whose works of the past have influenced people ranging from Quentin Tarantino (citing The Doll Squad as an influence on Kill Bill) to the Mystery Science Theater 3000 crew (Girl in Gold Boots was featured in the tenth season), the synopsis is unlike anything I've seen so far during this marathon. Two men who work for a once-successful cat food company find that they are running low on the necessary ingredients that will keep them in business. Rather than continue to pay for their expensive meats, they strike up a deal with folks at a local graveyard: take the dead bodies, buy them for fifty cents a pound, and grind them down to make the product. Unfortunately, there's a rather nasty side effect: every feline friend that eats their canned goods develops an insatiable taste for human blood. 

Running for approximately seventy-three minutes, The Corpse Grinders is one of the shortest pictures that I've watched for this year's Unseen Terror, yet it's undoubtedly the most bizarre (so far). What we have on our hands is your classic, glorified Drive-In or 'B' movie, complete with awkward acting, a hokey premise, moments that are meant to shock but bring about laughter, and a look that doesn't exactly scream "now in theaters everywhere." The performances are very all over the map, with protagonists Sean Kenney (Star Trek) and Monika Kelly giving it their none. The segments involving all the poor saps being attacked by their pets consists of them struggling as a cat just kind of grips their neck like a koala bear, while loud, stock cat sound effects play. It's all so gloriously stupid, but simultaneously amusing to no end. Sadly, there are quite a few lulls in the movie here and there, but the hilarious dialogue (particularly from the cemetery caretaker and his cantankerous wife) and occasional cat mauling prevent it from being boring.

If you're still reading this review after I ran down the plot of The Corpse Grinders, then there is a strong possibility that I don't know what else I can say to sell you on it. It's yet another "grab a beer and relax with your friends" type of motion picture that seemed to come out in droves around this time period, and if you're looking for something to add to any upcoming weekend-long marathon, then open up some canned cat food and let this smelly monstrosity into your life. For such a low budget flick, the Blu-Ray from Vinegar Syndrome is handled rather delicately, yet packed with some very solid extras. The 2K transfer looks surprisingly good, though there is a warning from Vinegar Syndrome after you hit "play" that mentions that they did the best job possible considering that there was some previously lost negatives of the film, so some parts appear more polished than others. There's an excellent commentary track provided by fellow filmmaker Elijah Drenner, whose documentary American Grindhouse has been on my radar for a while, but has yet to make its way into my home. Additionally, there's also a very fun interview from 2007 with the late Ted Mikels, who despite having such an incredibly strange body of work, comes across as a very warm, enthusiastic fellow who just adores the world of movies. He also has one wicked mustache, which was somehow the least surprising aspect of this release. You can snag the disc from most websites for about the same amount of money that I paid for it, and it's available for streaming on Amazon Prime.

Also, not that I'm speaking from experience, but I'm fairly certain that if you're going to dispose of a body by shoving them into a meat grinder, you should remove their clothing first. Just saying.

Tomorrow, I need something a bit more "sane" to bring me back to earth. Maybe Poland can provide me with some exquisite material?