Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts

Review: Alice Sweet Alice (1976)

Alice Sweet Alice (1976)
Director: Alfred Sole
If you survive this night…Nothing will scare you again.


Set in the 1960s (which, due to lack of budget, was lost among more contemporary details) and heavy on anti-Catholic rhetoric, Alice Sweet Alice is definitely the odd one out of its time. It stars a young Brooke Shields as Karen, the first victim and younger sister of our deeply unnerving yet oddly likable antagonist, Alice. Between the constant whining and carrying on of Karen and the overt favoritism of children by the mother, it’s easy to sympathize with poor Alice.  Although the film starts right off with all kinds of emotional tension, the first death definitely sets the mood for the rest of the film.

Alice becomes main suspect in murder of sister. I mean, she did just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, have the same creepy smiling mask and yellow raincoat as the murderer, and have more than enough motive. Throughout the film, it becomes more and more apparent that Alice is less than innocent, but her involvement in the terrors to unfold would remain to be seen. However, there was much hinting at the idea that the ghost of Karen, back for revenge may be to blame.

One character, which we are introduced to briefly after the death of Karen, was the creepy apartment manager with all of the kittens. I feel he could have been explained or integrated into the plot a little more. He seemed to both hate and take a “liking” to Alice and reminded me a bit of a John Waters character. Alice seemed to return the favor, somehow possibly liking his creepy, pedophilic attention, adding to the Alice character as deeply troubled and demented. Indeed, a disturbing but weirdly compelling relationship.

Throughout the film, Mom refused to listen to anything and anyone, ready to fight everyone about her children, and was always hysterical and uncooperative. She was also kind of an enabling pushover. There was also the aunt. She seemed to always know what was up, but no one listened and came off as overzealous at times. Between the two of them, there was quite a lot of tension and screaming, especially in regard to the guilt of Alice, who later may or may not have stabbed her aunt several times. As you can imagine, the following scenes would be littered with yelling, denial, and hysteria. The estranged father played the role as the voice of reason, although he started off by being uncooperative and silly about everything. However, he begins to pull himself together and actively aid in solving the mystery of who attacked the aunt in the stairwell.


I do believe that had the film followed along the “disturbed little girl dodging everyone’s radar on a killing spree” path that it would have been more compelling. The final murder and the reveal of the real killer at the end were a bit of a letdown (although it didn’t not make sense). However, the notion of the idea that Alice could very well be capable of murder and was not completely innocent was compelling and would have made for a fine storyline in of itself. The fact that the ending seemed kind of thrown into place, for the sake of the element of surprise, was more frustrating than anything. Despite the fact that the plot was a little bit all over the place, I would say that this film is deserving of a gander for any horror buff.

- Jasmine Casimir

Review: The Evictors (1979)

The Evictors (1979)
Director: Charles B. Pierce
Writer: Charles B. Pierce, Garry Rusoff, Paul Fisk
Stars: Jessica Harper, Michael Parks, Vic Morrow



Never as popular as Pierce’s other 70s horror classic, The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976), The Evictors (1979) feels like it could almost be a spinoff of its much more beloved predecessor.  Both films have very atmospheric qualities and share a very similar look, like they were shot in the same town over the same weekend. It’s no wonder it is featured as a B-Side to the DVD/Blu-ray release of The Town That Dreaded Sundown.  But I think this particular release, from the always awesome Scream Factory, should be advertised as a Charles B. Pierce Double Feature, instead of treating Evictors like a mere bonus feature.  

Pierce is a master of mood and atmosphere, and that of The Evictors is of the utmost unnerving.  Things kick off in the summer of 1928, as a shootout ensues at the country home of a band of violent hillbillies.  According to some exposition: the lead hillbilly killed three people the last time he was served foreclosure papers.  Seems like they should be more concerned about putting this guy in jail than showing up with court documents, but that’s beside the point.  Fast forward some years later, as a happy young couple, Ben and Ruth, acquire the same idyllic estate for themselves.  In pristine condition and not a murderous hillbilly in sight, the young couple are more than excited to start their new life, promptly christening the bedroom.  What could go wrong?  

For one thing, their shady realtor, played by the amazing Vic Morrow, fails to mention that since 1934, each tenant has been met with a violent demise.  The locals are anything but welcoming and a fedora wearing prowler keeps showing up, acting like he owns the place.  Once Ruth begins piecing everything together, things only escalate, culminating in a brutal encounter, which takes away what Ruth cares about most.  With nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose, Ruth turns to the shady relator for help.  But can he be trusted?  

- Peter DiGiovanni

Review: Psycho Beach Party (2000)

Psycho Beach Party (2000)
Director: Robert Lee King
Writer: Charles Busch
Starring: Lauren Ambrose, Nicholas Brendan, Charles Busch, Matt Keeslar, Thomas Gibson, Amy Adams, Kimberley Davies



Both a loving tribute and merciless send-up of exploitation cinema, Psycho Beach Party gathers the best tropes from three decades of B-movies and tosses them into a joyful stew. Based on the long-running play written by Charles Busch, the film's influences are written right in the title: the Frankie and Annette teen romps of the 1950s and 60s mashed up with the Hitchcockian psychodramas and slasher films of the 60s and 70s. As a capper, Psycho Beach Party then takes the sexual subtext of all those genres and turns it into text, both with single-entendre sex puns and even less subtle kink. More playful than graphic, the film revels in young sexuality in ways that feel more like Beach Blanket Bingo than Halloween, yet still treats the audience to the image of Marvel Anne (Amy Adams) lecturing Starcat (Nicholas Brendon) on responsibility while covering her naked pudenda with nothing but her hands.

Chicklet (Lauren Ambrose) is an innocent teen who, unlike every other teen, goes to the drive-in to watch the movie and is both fascinated and repulsed by all the necking going on in the surrounding cars. But Chicklet has a dark secret. Whenever she sees a circle, another personality takes over and she becomes the aggressive dominatrix, Ann Bowman (gasp!). Foul mouthed, lewd and sophisticated, Ann Bowman proclaims her desires and hatreds with operatic flourish: "Who do I have to fuck to get a hot dog in this place?"



Later, on Malibu beach, Chicklet meets a cadre of surfers led by The Great Kanaka (Thomas Gibson). She's immediately attracted by college dropout and first year psych student, Starcat and begs the boys to teach her to surf. Starcat insists that girls can't surf, citing first year Freudian nonsense about penis envy and the male hunting instinct. When Chicklet takes her case directly to Kanaka, Ann Bowman steps in, and not only gets Chicklet into the surf, but makes Kanaka her sex slave.

Meanwhile, a killer is stalking and murdering the teens one by one and police captain Monica Stark (Charles Busch) realizes that Chicklet is at the center of the mystery. Could Ann Bowman be responsible?

If it all sounds ridiculous, it's because it's meant to. The period movies Psycho Beach Party lampoons were no less so. Using naive and flat out wrong ideas about insanity, 60s psychodramas told thinly veiled cautionary tales about female hysteria and sexual repression. "Schizophrenia" (later called multiple personality disorder or dissociative disorder) was a go-to diagnosis for crazy people in the movies because it was lurid and strange. Norman Bates being the most famous example.


Psycho Beach Party plays on the plot details of those earlier works beat for beat, only it has the sense to turn it into a funny. In essence, Psycho Beach Party is the cinematic equivalent of watching a dozen B-movies all at once and riffing them with your giggling friends. The brilliance of Psycho Beach Party is that you never have to have seen an Annette Funicello movie to get the joke, because like all great satires, Psycho Beach Party is both a parody of the genre and a beautiful example of the genre.


There's also a luau dance battle. Luau. Dance. Battle.

- Katherine Turner