The Unrepentant Cinephile

by Jason Coffman

  During the reception, Travis reads an inscription that came along with the necklace, unwittingly unleashing a demonic power bound to the locket that possesses Doreen. After the possessed Doreen lays waste to the wedding reception, Hank and Travis manage to subdue her and get her into Black Mama. Panicked, Travis goes to visit his old “friend” Iggy (Sid Haig), an expert on all things supernatural. Iggy informs the men that Doreen is in the grip of a particularly nasty demon, and that she has only a short time before it will take control of her body and condemn her soul forever. Travis and Hank take off on a cross-country trip to find a legendary exorcist who is their only hope, but with a dwindling supply of drugs to keep Doreen pacified and the already fragile relationship between the two men fraying, things aren’t looking up.

  Devil in My Ride has one huge advantage over many independent horror comedies in its spectacular cast. Particularly great is Frank Zieger as Travis, the kind of motor mouthed charmer who is nearly impossible to dislike. His chemistry with Joey Bicicchi’s comparatively strait-laced Hank is what drives the entire film forward, both actors given ample opportunity to show their chops. Erin Breen is also fantastic as Doreen; one legitimate complaint about the film is that the audience doesn’t get to spend enough time with her before she turns into a spitting, profanity-spewing monster (although she’s also great, and often very scary, there). Director Gary Michael Schultz keeps the action moving at a brisk pace, taking breaks from the road trip for scenes alternately suspenseful (trying to track Doreen in the dark after she manages to escape) and absurd (Hank and Travis trying to win a beach volleyball tournament). Once the film moves into the third act the pace does flag a bit, but a few late-film surprises keep things interesting and the interplay between the leads never gets old. This is a great independent horror/comedy and well worth seeking out. I can hardly wait to see what Schultz does next.

  The Devil’s Rock (2011)

  Originally published on Film Monthly 22 February 2012

  From Hellboy to Eric Stanze’s recent indie shocker Ratline, the Nazi preoccupation with the occult has proven to be fertile ground for horror writers and filmmakers. Independent films have found this to be a rich vein of material with a weirdly authentic historical tinge, including recent standouts such as 2008′s Outpost (whose sequel is due out this year). Add to the list debut feature filmmaker Paul Campion’s The Devil’s Rock, a tense, claustrophobic tale that stands up to the best in this curious subgenre.

  Dispatched to destroy a gun emplacement on a remote island on the eve of the invasion of Normandy, Captain Ben Grogan (Craig Hall) and Sergeant Joe Tane (Karlos Drinkwater) stumble upon a strange scene. The huge bunker is all but abandoned, strewn with bodies and splattered with blood. Whatever has happened has left only two survivors: Colonel Klaus Meyer (Matthew Sunderland) and a woman (Gina Varela) chained to a wall and begging for help. Grogan makes the obvious assumption that Meyer has been using the woman for experiments, but soon discovers that the truth is far more sinister.

  Explaining much more would spoil some of the carefully plotted surprises in The Devil’s Rock. The tiny cast and constricted spaces help fuel the deep sense of claustrophobia and tension. Director Campion has assembled a great cast to carry the film, which is invaluable since any weak link could be disastrous in such a small cast. Craig Hall and Matthew Sunderland are particularly strong in what end up being the two roles with the most screen time, carefully trying to sense each other’s motivations and tentatively working together to defeat an extremely powerful mutual enemy. Great work also by WETA for excellent, effective makeup and gore effects, including a sly nod to Cannibal Holocaust.

  The Devil’s Rock also recalls another great horror film tradition: excellent independent work from New Zealand. This is a surprisingly accomplished debut from Paul Campion, and proudly joins the ranks of other distinguished New Zealand horrors such as Scott Reynolds’s The Ugly and the early works of Peter Jackson. Campion has proven with The Devil’s Rock that he is a talent to watch for, and horror fans who have a taste for something unique will no doubt be keeping an eye out for his next project. Said horror fans are hereby warned to ignore the ridiculously misleading cover of this DVD and give The Devil’s Rock a watch.

  Diabolique (2013)

  Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 28 February 2014

  Cosmotropia de Xam, the writer/director of the “arthouse horror” film Diabolique, has managed to remain something of a mysterious figure. This is a pretty impressive feat for someone who runs a label (Phantasma Disques) that consistently sells through limited editions of cds, vinyl, cassettes and DVDs in addition to releasing feature-length films that have scored theatrical dates all over the world. Phantasma has built up its fiercely loyal audience over the last few years by consistently delivering beautifully packaged objects, and Cosmotropia de Xam’s films seem to have grown in ambition along with the size of the label and its audience. Diabolique was the first film released by Phantasma on professionally duplicated DVDs, which the label explained was made possible directly by its fans’ support of previous releases. With its follow-up film Malacreanza: From the Diaries of a Broken Doll popping up on independent screens worldwide, horror fans are sure to wonder just what Diabolique is and what Cosmotropia de Xam means by “arthouse horror.”

  As one would probably suspect, Xam’s “arthouse horror” aesthetic is mostly concerned with imagery and atmosphere rather than coherent narrative. In the world of Diabolique, vampires exist and hide among humanity in densely populated urban areas. They use a milky liquid they regurgitate called Esmakra to control humans, on whom it works as a powerful narcotic. The film follows The Vampire (Aura) as she attempts to seduce and subjugate The Girl (Agnes Pándy) with the assistance of The Mysterious Man (Günter Schickert, later played by Martin N). Part of this process involves putting The Girl into a mysterious place called The Mute Room that breaks down its inhabitants’ perception of time and space, located near something called The Street of Weeping Houses. Once The Girl is under control of The Vampire, she will be another pawn helping them make their way in the human world.

  That all may sound more or less like a coherent narrative, but the structure of Diabolique is considerably more abstract than any plot summary might suggest. Most of the film is made up of footage of the characters in different settings and some familiar locations, such as the iconic subway tunnel and apartment building from the end of Zulawski’s Possession The minimal story moves forward only through a German voiceover track that occasionally blurs with the film’s soundtrack (the narrator, Aura, also performs with Cosmotropia de Xam’s musical project Mater Suspiria Vision). The focus here is squarely on presenting the viewer with strange and unsettling imagery, and the film frequently succeeds on those terms. Xam has a talent for striking imagery and an eagerness to experiment with various photographic and color effects. Paired with the film’s constantly pulsing soundtrack, the film’s imagery careens from time-lapse shots to psychedelic color tints and stark black and white, and while the lack of a strong narrative occasionally makes this frustrating, there’s almost always something interesting to look at during the film’s 60-minute running time.

  Diabolique is certainly an intriguing introduction to the film work of its writer/director. It is the sort of film that flaunts its influences proudly, but combines pieces of the familiar in interesting new ways. This is a surreal nightmare, infused with strong visual influences from Zulawski to Jean Rollin to Japanese horror manga, set to a score that moves from pounding 80s-style electronics to 70s prog and psychedelic rock. As it is, Diabolique will definitely appeal to horror fans who prize atmosphere and imagery over all else, but anyone looking for a strong narrative hook to accompany the images will be disappointed. In other words: Adventurous horror cinephiles only need apply.

  Discopath (2013)

  Originally published on Film Monthly 29 April 2014

  It’s been several years now since Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’s ambitious Grindho
use crashed and burned at the box office, but its influence has nonetheless been huge. Independent filmmakers have spent those years plumbing the depths of 70s and 80s horror and exploitation cinema with predictably mixed results. For whatever reason, Canada seems to have picked up the gauntlet thrown down by Grindhouseand really ran with it: Jason Eisener’s Hobo with a Shotgun began life as a trailer made for a competition whose winner was actually shown with Grindhouse in Canada, and the feature-length version showed that the 80s Troma style of filmmaking was perfectly suited to Canadian sensibilities. Astron-6 took the 70s revenge film to insane extremes with Father’s Day, a film that made even the most offensive Troma films look like Merchant Ivory productions. The latest Canadian take on a grindhouse sub genre is Renaud Gauthier’s Discopath, which feels like a simultaneous tribute to Juan Piquer Simón’s Pieces (a bizarre Giallo/slasher) and Alberto De Martino’s Blazing Magnum (an Italian crime film shot in Montreal) with a dash of Saturday Night Fever.

  Duane Lewis (Jérémie Earp-Lavergne) is a young man living in New York. It’s 1976, and disco is taking over the world. This is bad news for Duane, as the insistent beat of disco puts him into a trance, and the more he hears the music the more sensitive he becomes until hearing a disco song sends him into a murderous rage. After getting fired from his job over his disco problem, Duane runs into an old friend from his neighborhood who takes him out to a disco with tragic results. Duane wakes up the next morning covered in blood, and while a pair of tough New York detectives investigates the murder, Duane manages to skip town. The story then picks up in Montreal in 1980, where Duane has taken a job as a handyman at a Catholic girls’ school. When two girls try to stay in the dorm over a weekend and Duane hears them playing a disco record, his homicidal impulses take over and soon the police are investigating the murder of the two girls and the disappearance of teacher Mireille Gervais (Sandrine Bisson). When New York detective Paul Stephens (Ivan Freud) reads about the girls’ school murders, he’s sure it’s the same killer who eluded him in 1976, and teams up with grizzled Montreal Inspector Sirois (François Aubin) to find the murderer before it’s too late.

  Discopath ‘s opening sequences in New York are impressively staged for an independent production, although the cast’s painfully awful New York accents are a dead giveaway that this might not have been shot on location in the city. Still, the attention to period detail in Discopath is excellent, sold not just through wardrobe and a few well-chosen licensed songs on the soundtrack, but with an excellent original score by Bruce Cameron and a canny replication of 70s exploitation film structure. The film spends a lot of time with its world-weary cops, and after Lewis abducts the teacher, there are frequent cuts back to him doing weird stuff and terrorizing her that do not move the action of the film forward at all. Writer/director Gauthier revels in 70s clichés, and François Aubin is particularly hilarious as the hateful, lazy Inspector Sirois. The origin of Lewis’s psychosis is also pretty amazing, falling perfectly in line with the sort of characterization common to horror and crime films of the era. The game cast hits every note perfectly, making Discopath reach near-Wet Hot American Summer/Black Dynamite levels of simultaneous loving tribute and sly parody.

  Discopath is well worth seeking out for horror fans looking for something fun and unique. While fans of slashers, Giallo films and Italian cop dramas (and disco music) will probably enjoy it most, the film is solid enough to stand on its own merits. This is one of the best horror films of the year so far, and more proof that Canadian filmmakers are weirdly in tune with 70s exploitation cinema.

  Dixie Ray Hollywood Star (1983)

  Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 16 April 2016

  Anthony Spinelli was one of the best filmmakers in adult cinema of the 1970s and the 1980s, and his films have been represented on some of Vinegar Syndrome’s best releases. The most recent Spinelli release was his sci-fi sex epic Sex World (1978), released in a limited Blu-ray/DVD/CD pack (it will be reissued on standard DVD in May), was one of the best hardcore films the company has released so far. That high bar gets cleared again with the release of Spinelli’s 1983 hard-boiled detective film Dixie Ray Hollywood Star.

  The year is 1943, and the U.S. army has just taken Guadalcanal. Nick Popodopolis (John Leslie), a low-rent private detective and former cop, calls his old pal the Lieutenant (Cameron Mitchell) to report a dead body on the floor of his office. The body formerly belonged to Adrian (Juliet Anderson), assistant to former superstar Dixie Ray (Lisa De Leeuw). While the Lieutenant and his partner wait for the medical examiner to show up, Nick pours them all a drink or two and spins them the tale of how Adrian ended up dead in his office, a twisted story of deceit, betrayal, sex and money. And once his story is finished, some nasty secrets of some very important people will be exposed. In other words, all in a day’s work for a dick like Nick. Now, if he can just find a secretary who can answer phones and type…

  Dixie Ray Hollywood Star is a solid hard-boiled pastiche that happens to be punctuated by lengthy hardcore sex scenes. Leslie is perfectly cast as the wisecracking, world-weary detective who just can’t keep his hands off all the willing women in his path. Cameron Mitchell is exceptionally convincing as a mean old bastard who would be just as willing to throw Nick in the slammer as listen to his story, if it wasn’t for that hooch Nick so generously provides. And Lisa De Leeuw is great as Dixie Ray, a seductive femme fatale who is unquestionably villainous but also surprisingly sympathetic.

  The sex scenes in Dixie Ray Hollywood Star keep the story from getting overly complicated, so it’s a nice touch that Vinegar Syndrome also included the R-rated cut of the film, entitled It’s Called Murder, Baby, on the disc as well.

  As opposed to most R-rated cuts of hardcore films, It’s Called Murder, Baby is significantly different from Dixie Ray Hollywood Star. This is not just the hardcore feature with all the sex cut out: Dixie Ray runs 101 minutes, while It’s Called Murder, Baby runs 94. All of the hardcore content has been cut for the R-rated version, of course, but in its place are extended and alternate scenes that further expand the characters and storyline (including a cameo by exploitation film legend George “Buck” Flower!). There’s still plenty of nudity, but the film plays like a mid-budget Hollywood independent and less like a (comparatively) big-budget adult production.

  It’s Called Murder, Baby is a highly entertaining and well-made tribute to the hard-boiled detective movies of golden age Hollywood with the perfect hint of contemporary grit, and the fact that both versions of the film end on a note of such earnest, poignant nostalgia is endearing.

  Both versions of the film are presented on this disc restored in 2k from the original 35mm negatives, and the disc also includes the theatrical trailer for Dixie Ray Hollywood Star. Honestly, this disc would be absolutely worth picking up just for It’s Called Murder, Baby, but having both versions of the film fully restored makes this disc a must-buy for any serious exploitation cinema collector.

  Django, Prepare a Coffin (1968)

  Originally published on Film Monthly 28 April 2017

  Sergio Corbucci’s Django was one of the most successful and influential “spaghetti westerns” produced in the wake of Sergio Leone’s legendary “Man with No Name” trilogy that kicked off with A Fistful of Dollars in 1964. Franco Nero’s iconic performance as the coffin-dragging badass is one of the most recognizable characters in the Euro-western pantheon, and true to form it spawned a legion of unofficial “sequels” and knock-offs. Most of these were not even tenuously related to Corbucci’s film, and instead just happened to have a blonde guy who international distributors could happily dub “Django” and cross their fingers people wouldn’t notice until they made their money back. Out of all these films, though, there was one originally planned as an official sequel to Django and set to star Nero reprising the role. Fate intervened when he was offered the chance to star in Camelot alongside Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave, so the producers of Preparati La Bara! (Get the Coffin Ready) hired Terence Hill
to fill Django’s boots. The resulting production was a worthy sequel to Corbucci’s classic, which is finally getting its due in a new Blu-ray release from Arrow Video.

  At the beginning of Django, Prepare a Coffin, the titular character appears to be a sort of bodyguard for hire for amoral politician David Barry (Horst Frank). When Django bids farewell to Barry, he lets slip that his next assignment is moving a shipment of gold. Barry seizes the opportunity and hires outlaw Lucas (George Eastman) to ambush Django’s caravan and steal the gold. The attack results in the death of Django’s wife, and the gang leaves Django for dead. Five years later, Django is working as a freelance hangman as part of an elaborate plan to avenge his wife and bring Barry down. Instead of hanging the alleged criminals–all of whom have been framed by Barry and Lucas to cover up their own crimes–Django is faking their executions and burials, sending them to gather as an “army of phantoms” to wait for the next phase of his plan. Things go awry when Django’s conscience catches up with him and he has to miss out on a key action of his plan to save Mercedes (Barbara Simon), the wife of one of his “phantoms,” who has herself been sentenced to hang. Her husband Garcia (José Torres) leads the “phantoms” on a mission to steal a shipment of gold from Barry and Lucas, leading to Django’s capture by Lucas and his men. Now Django has to improvise to escape the clutches of his sworn enemies and bring his friends to justice, but how can one man stand up to an army?