Halloween 2020: October 29th

Street Trash (1987)

Some movies take time to build a reputation. As a teenager with a developing interest in horror and weirdo cinema, I didn’t hear too much about about “Street Trash.” Badmovies.org only gave it three slimes. Since the film didn’t belong to an identifiable genre, like the zombie or slasher movies I was really getting into at the time, I overlooked it. (I also often confused the film with “Body Melt,” a different movie about people turning into goo.) In the years since, I’ve met many enthusiastic fans of “Street Trash,” who described it as the kind of demented eighties cinema that must be seen to be believed. Since I’m checking off so many flicks I haven’t caught up with this October, I decided to give “Street Trash” a viewing too. 

“Street Trash’s” loose plot revolves around a group of homeless people living in a New York junkyard. Experienced bum Freddy co-habitats with Kevin, his brother who has a flirtatious relationship with Wendy. She’s the often abused employee of Mr. Schnizer, the disgusting man who runs the junk yard. An unhinged Vietnam vet named Bronson is the king bum of the trash heap, killing anyone who displeases him. When Freddy drags the girlfriend of a mob boss to the junkyard, where she is raped and killed, a cop begins to sniff around this bizarre community. Everything changes when Tentafly Viper, a strange liquor that causes the people who drink it to melt into multicolored slime, begins to circulate among the homeless.

As that plot synopsis indicates, “Street Trash” doesn’t really have a traditional story. The “plot” is more a collection of freakish characters getting involved in wacky scenarios. Some of these oddball episodes are inspired in their weirdness. A bum named Burt, who usually wears a gas mask, heads into a grocery store and starts shoving meat down his pants. When the manager notices, he tries to talk his way out of this in the sneakiest manner his addled brain can manage. The scene ends with him putting a bag on his head and walking through a window. It’s kind of brilliant. The confrontation between the mob boss and the smart-ass doorman he blames the girl’s disappearance for is amusingly vulgar. The film’s profanity-laden dialogue is often memorably bizarre. Bronson is a genuinely terrifying villain, who carries a knife carved out of a human femur. An especially elaborate sequence is an extended game of keep-away involving a severed penis. “Street Trash” may not involve much plot but the scenes it cooks up are certainly unforgettable.

In spirit, there’s not much separating “Street Trash” from the kind of offensive free-for-alls Troma makes. The very first scene involves a guy farting in another man’s face, a statement-of-purpose if I’ve ever seen one. There’s a hobo gang rape, a necrophilia joke, and a morbidly obese man almost smothering a woman to death. A brutal fist fight concludes with the winner vomiting on the loser. Another ends with urination. Obviously, there are jokes at the expense of the homeless, as well as women, Asians, Italian-Americans, sex workers, and gay people. The difference between “Street Trash” and a Troma movie is how it looks. “Street Trash” was directed by J. Michael Muro, who would go on to become an award-winning cinematographer. Noted for his mastery of the Steadicam, Muro makes sure “Street Trash” is constantly moving. The smooth, kinetic camerawork provides the insane movie with an unflappable energy. Muro also insures there’s an odd beauty to “Street Trash’s” odious events. Bronson’s 'Nam flashbacks, colored largely in reds and blues, are visually stunning. The night scenes are similarly atmospheric. Content wise, this is a sleaze-fest but it looks like an A-list movie. 

The punctuation points on “Street Trash’s” parade of smart-ass depravity are those melting scenes. Each dose of the Tentafly causes a different color of slime to spurt from someone’s body. Ankles melt off legs. A bum graphically dissolved into goo and gets flushed down the toilet. Yellow ooze burns a passerby’s face off. A fat guy inflates until he explodes in a downpour of orange entrails. One unlucky woman melts to the hood of a car. This is the kind of inventive special effects gross-outs you only saw in the eighties. “Street Trash’s” grandest gore gag actually doesn’t involve the Tentafly. A gas canister is turned into a missile, that blows the entire top half of a man off. It’s all creatively disgusting, sickeningly surreal sights that are undeniably bold. 

By the way, no origin is provided for the Tentafly Viper nor is the process behind its explosive side effects ever explained. It’s found in a liquor store basement and put on sale, a wild plot device that cuts through the cast at random intervals. The film’s skit-like structure extends into the end credits, where another comedic episode involving the mob boss is shown. (While a truly bizarre, vulgar song performed by the same character plays.) For what it’s worth, the movie does treat some of its characters with more respect than you’d expect, as Freddy and Kevin’s relationship provides genuine pathos. While offensive and transgressive, “Street Trash’s” fantastic cinematography, unforgettably strange sense of humor, and outrageous gore effects combine to make an appealing whole. This is an irrelevant sleazeball odyssey with the right level of creative insanity. In other words: I loved it. [8/10]

Secret of the Chateau (1934)

Every October, I like to watch a classic horror movie made by Universal Studios. If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you might have noticed I'm a little obsessed with the classic monsters and the studio that birthed them. Because I also don't like to repeat myself, I just can't write about “Frankenstein” again. (Even though I can always find new things to say about “Frankenstein.”) So, every autumn, I've had to search out an even more obscure classic Universal horror movie. Which brings me to “Secret of the Chateau.” The film is described as a mystery and most mysteries made in the thirties and forties fall into the old dark house subgenre, putting them into the margins of horror. “Secret of the Chateau” was also part of the Shock Theater TV syndication package, the same collection that brought many of the classic monster movies to televisions everywhere in the fifties. For these reasons, I decided to give this 1934 obscurity a look.

Here's a murder mystery set in the exciting world of rare book collecting. A man named Paul has inherited a rare Gutenberg Bible from his rich uncle. This attracts the attention of Julie, a recently released book thief. She is blackmailed into going to Paul's chateau for a weekend, where a number of other people interested in the Bible have also gathered. The executor of the will, Bardoe, has set up an elaborate security system to protect the book. As night falls and even more potential suspects arrive, Bardoe is murdered and the Bible disappears. A French detective by the name of Marotte, who has been chasing a book thief named Fos for years, arrives at the chateau to get to the bottom of things.

I am disappointed to say that “Secret of the Chateau” is not a horror film. Not even a little bit. The movie is disappointingly low on spooky, black-and-white atmosphere. Yes, it's set in an old chateau out in the countryside. Two dead bodies do drop before the film is over. Yet there's none of the cobwebs, shadows, secret passageways, or fedora-clad villains you associate with the old dark house set-up. There's no suggestion of ghosts or haunting. The chateau's not even that old or dark. A handful of scenes are set at night. There's a very mild example of shadowy atmosphere during the scene where an alarm is set off. Over all, “Secret of the Chateau” rejects all the spooky ambiance that makes other old dark house movies sort-of, kind-of horror movies. 

Something “Secret of the Chateau” definitely does have in common with your typical old dark house flick is a collection of red herrings. A number of potential suspects gather at the chateau before Bardoe is killed. That includes Julie's criminal lover, who is so obviously a red herring. There's also a grouchy aunt, a shifty book seller, and a number of other characters. Among this cast of vaguely suspicious characters, only one really sticks out to me. That would be Didi, an ex-girlfriend of Paul's played by Alice White. She's energetic, seductive, and determined to get what she feels is owed to her. Since this is a pre-code movie, that includes pulling Mr. Bardoe into a compromising positions. I've seen this type of flapper character in other movies from this decade and they never fail to charm me. 

Since “Secret of the Chateau” isn't a horror movie, how does it rank as a murder mystery? Fairly mediocre! Ferdinand Gottschalk is mildly compelling as Marotte but that character only appears at the beginning and end of the movie. The mystery of who killed Bardoe is interesting for exactly a few minutes, before the movie introduces the character who obviously did it. The film includes some romantic drama between Julie and Paul. Despite Claire Dodd and Clark Williams having some chemistry, there's never any doubt that these two will work things out and get together in the end. And, needless to say, book collecting is not the most cinematic premise for a mystery. 

In other words, “Secret of the Chateau” is the most average of programmers, something made cheaply and quickly to fill out the bottom half of the marquee. The film probably would have been entirely forgotten if it wasn't sneaked into the Shock Theater collection, making sure monster kids for generations to come at least recognize the title. I can only assume young viewers tuning in to watch a spooky old black-and-white horror flick were massively disappointed by this one. (That disappointment was not limited either, as a number of crime thrillers or generic mysteries were included in Shock Theater.) I mean, damn, would it have killed them to throw in a spider web or some fog at the very least? [5/10]

Queen of Blood (1966)

It's probably easy to forget, considering the crushing amount of tragedy we've had to suffer through this year, but we lost a beloved genre icon earlier in 2020. John Saxon was a former teen idol who worked alongside icons like Bruce Lee, Debbie Reynolds, and Clint Eastwood. He was directed by respected filmmakers like John Huston, Blake Edwards, and Otto Preminger. He also starred in so much schlock, lending a bit of marquee value to countless low budget flicks. This put him in contact with genre masters like Wes Craven, Mario Bava, Bob Clark, and Dario Argento at various points in their careers. No matter how lowbrow or slapdash the film might be, Saxon always took the material seriously. To honor his passing, I knew I had to review one of Saxon's many genre credits this October. After some thought, I decided on A.I.P. sci-fi shocker “Queen of Blood.” 

In the far-flung future year of 1990, humanity has mastered space travel. The International Institute of Space Travel has colonized the moon and is currently preparing missions to explore Mars and Venus. This is when they receive a message from an alien race, an ambassador coming our way. After the alien craft crash-lands on Mars, Earth sends a rescue mission. Soon, a separate team – led by astronaut Allan Brenner – finds the alien craft on Phobos, a single female extraterrestrial inside. He joins up with the rescue mission, where Allan's fiancé happens to be. On the trip back to Earth, the human astronauts attempt to communicate with the silent, green-skinned female but she remains quiet. As the journey goes on, they also discover that she is deadly. 

“Queen of Blood” came into existence because Roger Corman and American International Pictures acquired the rights to two Soviet science-fiction films. Director Curtis Harrington, previously of “Night Tide,” was asked to create a new story around footage from “A Dream Come True” and “Heavens Above.” Incorporating pre-existing special effects scenes into a new plot leads to some obviously awkward results. “Queen of Blood's” story leaps all over the place, the audience sometimes having trouble keeping track of which group of characters is on which spaceship. I'm still not entirely certain what the purpose of a scene of an astronaut buried in a Martian sandstorm was about. But it's easy to see why A.I.P. was interested in these Soviet sci-fi movies. Those scenes – which have an obviously different film grain – feature colorful sets, interestingly odd costumes, elaborate miniature work, and likably artificial composite effects. 

More than anything else, “Queen of Blood” is one of those delightful sixties sci-fi flicks that imagines a hopelessly optimistic version of the near future. The filmmakers apparently thought twenty-five years was enough time to establish moon-bases. The future of “Queen of Blood” is so advanced that news of alien contact is treated as just another announcement. Travel to Mars or intergalactic rescue missions bring with them little pomp-or-circumstance. If the lunch scene Saxon has is any indications, the thing astronauts most have to worry about is what there is to eat in space. Just in general, the zee-rust shenanigans of “Queen of Blood” are pleasing. The big clunky spacesuits and boxy sets are amusingly retro. The gee-shucks performances of Saxon, a young Dennis Hopper, and Judi Meredith similarly add to this feeling.

“Queen of Blood” doesn't really become a monster movie until its last third. The unnamed alien woman – the credits refer to her with a question mark – is a comical sight, with her bright green skin and beehive hairdo. Yet Florence Marty brings enough of an unearthly edge to the part to make the alien a viable threat. The close-ups on her bloodshot blue eyes are certainly striking. Harrington makes the most of his limited sets, bringing a claustrophobic quality to the scenes of the space vampire hypnotizing and draining her male victims. He also maintains the colorful quality from the Russian sci-fi footage. Despite being a queen of blood, the space vampire dies pretty easily but that does set-up an amusingly goofy final moment. Let's just say there's a special effect that looks like red balls floating in lime Jello.

Considering “Queen of Blood” was made simply to capitalize on clips from other movies, it's a consistently entertaining time. I would put it around the same level as “The Angry Red Planet,” in that it's a quirky sci-fi B-movie with colorful visuals and lots of campy elements to keep you watching. (And it's better than “Queen of Outer Space,” which I frequently confuse it with.) And as a testament to John Saxon's abilities as an actor, it does a good job of showing you how straight-faced and committed he was. In interviews, he stated that Hopper had trouble taking the material serious but Saxon was an expert at taking ridiculous material seriously. Wherever Mr. Saxon is now, may his spaceship travel forever. [7/10]

Runaway Brain (1995)

Since the first short I watched this season was a spooky bit of Disney animation, it seems fitting that the last short I watch this season is also a “scary” Disney cartoon. I can recall seeing a poster for “Runaway Brain” as a kid and being surprised and confused by the idea of a horror-themed Mickey Mouse film. Years later, I’m finally catching up with this thing. After forgetting their anniversary, Mickey accidentally ends up promising Minnie a trip to Hawaii. Low on funds, he seeks out a want ad. This turns out to be a scheme by mad scientist Dr. Frankenollie, who is seeking a new brain to put into his Frankenstein-like monster. After the switch, Mickey — in the body of a hideous beast — has to protect Minnie from his now ravenous mouse-self.

“Runaway Brain” was somewhat controversial in 1995, owing to its macabre themes, and Disney partially buried it. (I assume that’s why it’s not on Disney+.) The short does represent a major tonal shift from what we expect from Mickey Mouse. Mickey is introduced playing a “Snow White”-themed fighting game and is apparently so obsessed with it, he forgot about his girlfriend. There’s a joke about Minnie wearing a skimpy bikini. Later, our heroic mouse cocks a squeegee like it’s a shotgun. There’s a visual nod to “The Exorcist.” The mad scientist is incinerated down to a skeleton. Mickey undergoes a drooling, werewolf-like transformation. The shots of Mickey being electrocuted probably could upset little kids. After existing simply as a corporate mascot for so many years, it is surprising to see Mickey Mouse be a jerk, a monster, or the implication that he has a sex life. 

Yet “Runaway Brain” is largely distinct from the Disney tradition because it goes for madcap slapstick over whimsy. Moreover, it’s pretty good at it. Dr. Frankenollie is a chimpanzee, voiced by a hammy Kelsey Grammer, and unleashes a series of amusing puns. The entire second half of the short is a chase scene between mutated Mickey and the hulking monster. The film packs in as many gags as possible during this sequence, many of them producing belly laughs. It’s impressive that “Runaway Brain” successfully maintains that manic energy throughout, feeling like a wild blast of cartoony anarchy. Which, of course, pairs extremely well with the monster movie aesthetic.

It’s also gorgeously animated, the characters moving fluidly, the backgrounds detailed, and the colors lush. This is probably why, despite the minor controversy, the film received an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Short. (It lost to Wallace and Gromit.) I truly wish I could’ve seen this one on the big screen, where its visuals would’ve really popped. In the U.S., the short was attached to “A Kid in King Arthur’s Court,” furthering my theory that Disney was not enthusiastic about this one. But I have no doubt I would’ve loved this as a kid. Hell, I love it as a grown-up. I hear some of the more recent “Mickey” shorts have a similar madcap feeling to them so I have to check those out now. [8/10]