Cinematic Void January Giallo 2025: The Case of the Bloody Iris (1972)

EDITOR’S NOTE: Cinematic Void will be playing this on Friday, Jan. 17 at 7:30 PM at the Frida Cinema in Santa Ana, CA with Short Night of Glass Dolls (tickets here). For more information, visit Cinematic Void

1970’s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage became a worldwide hit, bringing giallo to the world. But by 1972, in its native Italy, the films had already become self-aware parodies of the genre. Witness 1972’s The Case of the Bloody Iris (originally titled Why Are There Strange Drops of Blood on Jennifer’s Body?), directed by Giuliano Carnimeo (Exterminators of the Year 3000).

We start with the hallmark of this style: a beautiful woman slashed to death by a masked killer in a public location — this time an elevator in a modern high-rise. That body is discovered by a black exotic dancer — well, she’s more of a wrestler who challenges men in the crowd to fight her on stage — who soon becomes the next victim in a bathtub drowning with a killer that references the look of the killing machine behind Bava’s Blood and Black Lace.

That leaves us with two models, Jennifer Lansbury (Edwige Fenech, Your Vice is a Locked Door and Only I Have the KeyStrip Nude for Your Killer and many more — she even had a cameo in Hostel 2) and Marilyn Ricci, who become friends with Andrea Barto, the architect of the building (George Hilton, All the Colors of the Dark) and move into the vacant room of the first victim. Nevermind that the police believe that Andrea is the killer!

Meanwhile, Jennifer’s ex-husband, Adam, used to use her for strange group sex rituals — we see a flashback of him giving her communion and initiating her into the group. He’s been stalking her, trying to get her back. Turns out he could make love to anyone he wanted and was the jealous type. “You’re not any man’s special girl because any man can take you,” he tells her. She tells him that she wants to belong to someone special. He replies by attacking her in an alley and tries to inject her with a needle. She escapes and he exclaims that she will “come crawling back on her knees.”

The cops bumble their way through the investigation, more concerned with naked women than they are with the case itself. Oh yeah — Marilyn fakes her death in the same tub the black victim died in, driving Jennifer crazy. And also — Andrea is afraid of blood. And then again there’s that nosy old Mrs. Moss who keeps showing up to find the bodies and has a subscription to Killer Man comics. And another red herring — Adam tries to kill Andrea. Whew — so much to keep track of!

Here comes another one — the murderer keeps showing up in the window of the apartment, scaring Jennifer. And then Adam shows up to attack her. Running from her apartment, she finds refuge at her neighbor Sheila Heindricks’ place. However, Sheila turns out to be a lesbian — with a violin playing dad — who wants to molest her. She runs back to her place to find a blood stained orchid and Adam’s dead body.

There is some good news. Even though the police think Andrea is the killer, Jennifer still falls in love with him. They make love while the police watch. The next day, Marilyn says hello to someone in the street and is stabbed in front of the world. She falls into Andrea’s arms, covering him in blood before dying in Jennifer’s arms. Covered in gore, the blood freaks out the architect, who runs into the streets to hide.

Wow — like I said, this film almost becomes a parody of giallo convention as it piles on things. Why does the old man play violin all night long? Why is Andrea afraid of blood? Why are the police so incredibly stupid? Oh! I forgot about Arthur, the camp gay pornographer!

Turns out that Mrs. Moss has a scarred up son that lives in her place. He attacks Jennifer when she sneaks in, then Mrs. Moss calls her a whore around 19 times in 2 sentences. When Jennifer brings the police, the son is nowhere to be found.

The killer starts luring Jennifer all over the place, from a junkyard to the basement — along with her lesbian neighbor. A blast of steam decimates the next door sister of Sappho and the lights go down, leaving our heroine trapped. Turns out Andrea has been following her since the junkyard and demands Jennifer follow him in a way that reminds her of her horrifying ex-husband.

So whodunnit? Do you really want to know? Well, it wasn’t the old lady. And it wasn’t the architect. And it wasn’t our heroine. So that leaves…the violinist! He blamed the women of the world for turning his daughter to sin, taking her from him. He also killed the old woman’s son. He dangles Jennifer over a big stairwell, but she’s saved at the last minute by Andrea. A battle ensues, leaving blood all over his face, which gives us a flashback of his father dying in a car crash, bleeding all over his face as he was a child. Luckily for all concerned, Jennifer used the reel to reel in the violinist’s apartment to record his confession.

Whew. Your head is going to spin when you watch this one, trust me. That said — if you haven’t really gotten your brain trained toward giallo, you may want to skip this. I can never really figure out what other folks are going to like! But if you enjoy murder, models and murky plots, well, this one is for you.

Island Zero (2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Joseph Perry writes for the film websites Gruesome Magazine, The Scariest Things, Horror FuelThe Good, the Bad and the Verdict and Diabolique Magazine; for the film magazines Phantom of the Movies’ VideoScope and Drive-In Asylum; and for the pop culture websites When It Was Cool and Uphill Both Ways. He is also one of the hosts of When It Was Cool’s exclusive Uphill Both Ways podcast and can occasionally be heard as a cohost on Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast.

Director Josh Gerritsen delivers a fun, well-crafted creature feature in the independent offering Island Zero, a made-in-Maine movie that is destined to surprise viewers. Though elements of Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, and 1950s monster movies are evident, the film builds a dread-filled world all its own.

On a remote island about 40 miles off the coast of Maine, a group of locals, seasonal employees, and a visiting author prepare to return to the mainland. Unfortunately, the ferry they are waiting for never arrives, part of a mysterious pattern in which local fishermen and boaters disappear, their vessels sometimes discovered with bloodstains. As the island residents and guests are further cut off from the outside world because of power outages, the mysterious situation escalates as horrendous deaths begin occurring on land, as well.

Working from a screenplay written by his mother Tess Gerritsen, helmer Josh Gerritsen has crafted a suspenseful monster movie that offers characters and relationships in which viewers can become fully invested. The situations, dialogue, and performances feel naturalistic, so that when victims are being stalked and the ugly truth behind the incidents comes to the forefront, viewers have plenty of reason to be invested in characters and whether or not they will see the occurrences through.

The sizeable cast is solid throughout, including Adam Wade McLaughlin as marine biologist Sam, whose obsessive interest in following up on his late wife’s research is causing strife between him and his girlfriend Lucy (Terri Reeves), and Laila Robbins as Maggie, a doctor working temporarily on the island, who suppresses a tragic past that may actually help with the group’s survival. The supporting players give performances that range from spot-on to downright endearing. 

Alisha Cratty’s makeup work and Eric Anderson’s special effects are commendable, and while body parts and the red stuff are on fine display in Island Zero, the film focuses more on psychological tension and an ever-building sense of dread. Mark Farney’s cinematography captures the gloomy greys of the isolated island and its surroundings marvelously, complementing the foreboding atmosphere.

One area where monster movie fans might be disappointed is the lack of screen time for Island Zero’s beasties, but I feel that Josh Gerritsen and crew did a clever, admirable job of presenting them considering the film’s budget. What makes the attack scenes work is the investment of the actors, the dynamics between their characters, and a good story. 

Island Zero is a taut suspenser that creature-feature fans should find to be a fantastic discovery.

The Seduction (1980)

The Seduction is director and writer David Schmoeller’s follow-up to Tourist Trap. While that film exists in its own strange universe, where Chuck Connors just so happens to have psychic powers, this is based in the real—well, not always—world of Los Angeles. According to star Morgan Fairchild, Schmoeller was inspired by a story about a viewer stalking a TV reporter.

Jamie Douglas (Fairchild) has finally broken through and become an anchor on the local nightly news. Things are good — people like her — and she has a boyfriend named Brandon (Michael Sarrazin). The problems start when she begins to receive calls, letters and gifts from a man named Derek (Andrew Stevens, preparing to own the 1980s erotic thriller genre but not before he’d go from being a psychosexual deviant to chasing one with Bronson in 10 to Midnight). Soon, he also bothers her friend Robin (Colleen Camp) and drops by work to bring chocolates; Jamie, if anything, is too friendly and gently turns him down.

After he doesn’t stop calling her, Jamie learns that Brandon- a photographer- lives next door. He walks right in and starts taking photos of her. Her boyfriend beats him bloody, and when they talk to a cop named Maxwell (Vince Edwards), they learn that there’s not much they can do. As for Derek, he’s already bothering Robin, demanding that she talk to Jamie for him.

A doctor tells her that Derek is infatuated but to a degree that makes him psychotic. Would you say, mental enough to hide in the closet and go one-handed while she takes a bath? Oh Derek, can’t you see that a model named Julie (Wendy Smith Howard) is in love with you? Why did you tell her that you’re engaged?

Jamie starts to realize that Derek could be the Sweetheart Killer, a serial murderer that she’s been reporting on. He goes so far as to change her teleprompter while she’s on the air, leading to her having a breakdown in front of the entire city. Brandon tries to comfort her in the hot tub, but he’s soon killed by Derek mid-coitus; as our killer buries him in his front yard, the cops put Jamie on hold. On hold! Who is working there, Father Tom from Amityville II?

This is when Jamie goes full-final girl, blasting at Derek with a shotgun and starting to stalk him right back, repeatedly calling him and telling him how bad she wants him. As he comes back to the house to attack her, he runs into Julie, who tearfully announces that she knows that Jamie doesn’t really love him. He blows right past her — he has murder and sexual assault to do — before she turns the tables and becomes aggressive with him, begging him to have sex with her, revealing his impotence. Angered beyond all hope, he attacks her, just in time for Julie to announce that she’s seen Lipstick and wasn’t that part cool where the rapist got shotgunned?

This has a decent horror pedigree, as it’s the third film produced by Irwin Yablans (Halloween) and Bruce Cohn Curtis, who also made Roller Boogie and Hell Night.

The Seduction is a scuzzy film; I have no complaints. Yet it still has a theme song, “Love’s Hiding Place,” sung by Dionne Warwick! This song was written by the film’s composer, Lalo Schifrin. He may have written the Mission: Impossible theme but got no respect from the credit crew on this, as they spelled his last name incorrectly.

It left me wondering how so many early 80s American Giallo movies have the only nude appearances by major actresses. I’m looking at you, Blind Date, with Kirstie Alley going bare. I was shocked to see multiple nude scenes by Fairchild in this with nobody double being used. Bonus points for the script, which has Colleen Camp’s character declare, “Art, fart!”

Double word score for Lucan star Kevin Brophy appearing, Tom DeSimone’s brother Bob being in the cast as a shutterbug, and Fairchild’s sister Cathryn Hartt as a teleprompter person.

Triple overall score for this being the last Avco Embassy Film.

IMDB BS footnote for this one: “Apparently, veteran actress Bette Davis really liked this movie, and after viewing it on cable television, she allegedly sent the movie’s star, Morgan Fairchild, a congratulatory letter complimenting her work on the film.”

You can watch this on Tubi.

Cinematic Void January Giallo 2025: Four Flies On Grey Velvet (1971)

EDITOR’S NOTE: Cinematic Void will be playing this on Friday, Jan. 31 at 7:30 PM at the Little Theater in Rochester, NY (tickets here). For more information, visit Cinematic Void

After The Bird with the Crystal Plumage and The Cat o’Nine Tails, Argento had one more movie left in his “Animal Trilogy.” Luigi Cozzi (Starcrash) would both write and assistant direct the film and the results are…interesting. It’s a lot funnier than his other giallo and was considered his swan song to the genre until his movie The Five Days failed at the box office.

Rock drummer Roberto Tobias is being stalked and as he finally catches up to his pursuer, the man pulls a knife. A struggle ensues and Roberto accidentally stabs the man while another masked figure laughs and takes photographs.

The next day, Roberto reads about the man’s death — Carlo Marosi — and gets a letter with a photograph of him murdering the man. He begins having reoccurring dreams that he’s being decapitated. Even worse, he wakes up to a masked man attacking him, who tells him that he won’t kill him because he isn’t finished with him.

Roberto’s wife Nina (Mimsy Farmer, Body CountAutopsy) returns home and he confesses the murder to her and tells her that he can’t go to the police to stop the harassment. He does turn to his artistic friend “God” Godfrey (Bambino from They Call Me Trinity) and a con artist named the Professor (Oreste Lionello, The Case of the Bloody Iris and the Italian voice for Woody Allen) for help.

Whoever is behind Roberto’s stalking and harassment is a troubled soul who had a horrific childhood and spent some time in an insane asylum. Roberto’s maid Amelia knows who it is, but she pays for it with her life, as the killer uses a straight razor to slice her apart.

Later that night, Dalia (Francine Racette, Donald Sutherland’s wife, so well done Donald) comes to stay with Nina and Roberto, despite him wanting her not to be there. It also turns out that our hero never really killed Carlo, who has been working with his blackmailer, who dispatches him with razor wire.

Roberto then hires Arrosio, a flamboyant investigator who has never solved a case, but hopes that this is the one that he will solve. Amelia’s murder has been discovered and the cops are on the case, so Nina says that she’s leaving town, feeling unsafe in her own house.

It turns out that Dalia has always loved Roberto, so they have sex. As you do. Look, it’s a giallo. Other strange things are afoot, like Roberto’s cat getting kidnapped and beheaded, Nina getting an inheritance, strange photos of Nina and Dalia’s family and more nightmares.

That’s when giallo science intrudes: the killer was in a mental institution called Villa Rapidi, where they were considered dangerous until their father died. This knowledge — and discovering the killer’s identity and finally cracking a case — leads to Arrosio’s death.

Dalia then notices that Roberto and someone in a photo with his wife look quite similar. Just as she puts it all together, she’s stabbed and killed.

Ready for more giallo science? The police perform an optographical test that takes a photo of the retina to show the last image that Dalia saw before she died. Even Argento — a man who made a movie about a girl who can physically speak to insects and becomes friends with an orangutan — thought this idea was stupid until Carlo Rambaldi showed him how the special effect would look.

The last image that Dalia saw? Four flies on grey velvet. No one knows what this means.

Roberto waits for the killer to come for him but then Nina arrives. He tries to get her to leave because the killer is coming when he notices her necklace: a fly. As it swings, he sees it: four flies. In true giallo fashion, the killer is someone who we obviously didn’t ever consider.

A fight breaks out and she repeatedly shoots her husband as she explains how she was placed in the asylum by her abusive stepfather — who raised her as a man — and was only cured when the man died. When she met Roberto, what she felt wasn’t love, but the madness that her stepfather caused within her. She finally would get her revenge by using Roberto as the replacement for the man she couldn’t get back at.

Nina runs away as Godfrey arrives to save Roberto, but she rams the back of a truck. She’s decapitated as the car explodes.

Deep Purple almost did this movie (several members of the Beatles were considered for the role of Roberto), but their schedule didn’t allow it to happen. Ennio Morricone, who worked with Argento on The Bird with the Crystal Plumage worked on the film, but had a huge argument with the director about the score. Goblin would come in and work with Argento for the first time here. Morricone and Argento finally reconciled and worked together on The Stendhal Syndrome.

This film wasn’t commercially released for the home market until 2009, other than an incredibly hard-to-find French VHS version. That’s because the rights to this film in America are owned by Paramount Pictures, which had chosen not to release it. Shameless did put out a UK release that is all region a few years back.

This is one strange giallo. The ending car crash took twelve cars to get right and combined with the music in the scene, it’s really unsettling. This is also one of the first movies to use high speed cameras to shoot bullet time, years before Hong Kong movies and The Matrix. I love the killer’s rant at the end of the film, particularly because big chunks of it are still in Italian! This might be hard for you to find, but it’s worth tracking down.

Blind Date (1984)

“The ultimate high tech thriller,” this Nico Mastorakis-directed movie — he also wrote it with his regular script partner Fred Perry — succeeds in getting one part of the Giallo genre right: its science is absolute bullshit.

Jonathan Ratcliff (Joseph Bottoms) is an ad exec working in Greece who should be happy with his life and his current flame, Claire (Kirstie Alley). Yet one day, he thinks he sees Marien (the doomed in real-life Lana Clarkson), a woman from the past who went insane after being assaulted by multiple men. He drops everything and starts to stalk her, even after discovering her name is Rachel. And then, the movie is flipped around when Jonathan loses his sight. Helpless to protect Rachel from a knife-wielding point of view, Giallo’s gloved psychosexual murderer — the Scalpel Killer — runs wild through the dark nights of Athens; he has Dr. Steiger (Keir Dullea) create a medical miracle: a small unit that allows his eyes to see Atari 5200-style graphics of the real world. If he uses it too much, he’ll fry his brain. The killer might get him before that.

The Scalpel Killer makes his way through several victims, starting with Antigone Amanitou, who goes from her shower directly to being drawn on and operated without the benefit of any painkillers. His second victim is a pre-Star Trek: TNG Marina Sirtis, back in the days when she was stuck being the victim of Michael Winner in Death Wish 3 and The XXX Lady. There’s some wonderful stalking POV here, making this feel closer to Italy than Greece. The Scalpel Killer changes his M.O., taking out a married couple, played by Kathy Hill and Louis Sheldon, before finding one more single lady in the tub, played by Noelle Simpson.

While Ratcliff may not be the most compelling hero, the film introduces some unique elements. The concept of headphones that transform sound into visuals is fascinating, as is the scene where Ratcliff accidentally unplugs the headphones, rendering himself blind and in danger as he’s being stalked on the edge of a building.

Masorakis knows how to make these video store-era movies. Sure, they can get overloaded and too long, but he also hires gorgeous actresses, somehow convinces them to disrobe (this is Alley’s only nude scene) and also has some genuinely good moments amongst the silliness, such as when the killer sits at Rachel’s bedside and silently watches her sleep. If it had more gloss and fashion, it’d be close to the Italian model mid-80s Giallo that I am obsessed with, but for what this is, I’m satisfied. Ladies, I wish you had a more interesting protagonist, but this definitely matches the genre’s need for enticing victims.

The credits promised a sequel that never arrived, Run, Stumble and Fall.

You can watch this on Tubi.

Cinematic Void January Giallo 2025: Blood and Black Lace (1964)

Editor’s note: Cinematic Void will be playing this movie on January 6 at 7:00 p.m. at the Music Box Theater in Chicago, IL. You can get tickets here. It is also playing January 18 at 7:30 PM ET at The Sie Film Center in Denver and will be hosted by Theresa Mercado of Scream Screen. You can get tickets here. For more information, visit Cinematic Void.

There’s no way to calculate the influence of Blood and Black Lace. It takes the giallo from where Bava started with The Girl Who Knew Too Much and adds what was missing: high fashion, shocking gore and plenty of sex. The results are dizzying; it’s as if Bava’s move from black and white to color has pushed his camera lens to the brink of insanity.

Isabella is an untouchably gorgeous model, pure perfection on human legs. But that doesn’t save her as she walks through the grounds of the fashion house and is brutally murdered by a killer in a white mask.

Police Inspector Sylvester takes the case and interviews Max Morlan (Cameron Mitchell!), who co-manages the salon with his recently widowed lover, Countess Christina Como. Soon, our police hero discovers that the fashion house is a den of sin, what with all the corruption, sex, blackmail, drugs and abortions going on under its roof. Isabella was murdered because she had kept a diary of all the infractions against God that happened inside these four walls.

Nicole finds the diary and tells the police she will deliver it, but it’s stolen by Peggy. As she arrives at the antique store her boyfriend Frank owns, the killer appears and kills her with a spiked glove to the face. The killing is shocking. Brutal. And definitely the forerunner to the slasher genre.

Even after the cops arrest everyone in the fashion house, the murders keep on piling up. Peggy claims that she burned the diary, so the killer burns her face until she dies. Greta is smothered to death. And Tilde is killed in the bathtub, then her wrists are slit open, spraying red into the water and marking her as a suicide.

So who is it? Come on. You’re going to have to watch it for yourself.

The success of Black Sunday and Black Sabbath had allowed Bava to do anything he wanted. His producers thought this movie would be a Krimi film, like an Edgar Wallace adaption. Instead, Bava gave more importance to the killings than the detective work, emphasizing sex, violence and horror more than any film in this form had quite before.

Blood and Black Lace was a failure in Italy and only a minor success in West Germany, the home of Edgar Wallace. And in America, AIP passed on the film due to its combination of sex and brutality. Instead, it was released by the Woolner Brothers with a new animated opening.

Today, Blood and Black Lace is seen as a forerunner of body-count murder movies and the excesses of later Giallo films. It’s a classic film, filled with Bava’s camera wizardry and love of color. There is everything perfect about movies.

Point of Seduction: Body Chemistry III (1994)

Jackson Barr is back to write the third in the Body Chemistry series, along with director Jim Wynorski, who seems perfect to make this movie. There’s also a new actress playing sexpert Dr. Claire Archer, as Shari Shattuck (star of two Cannon films, The Naked Cage and Number One With a Bullet, as well as video store classics like Arena, Uninvited and Death Spa) takes the reins — literally — from Lisa Pescia.

The not-so-good doctor has come back to Los Angeles, where Freddie Summers (Chick Vennera) is trying to make the movie of her life, along with studio boss Bob Sibley (Robert Forster) and producer Alan Clay (Andrew Stevens). Clay wanted his wife, Beth (Morgan Fairchild), to play the role of Claire, but there’s a problem. The sexologist knows Summers from her past — he was a character in the first movie — and only agrees to make the film if Clay has an affair with her.

It’s nice that Andrew got his mother Stella a part, even if this is softcore pornography. She doesn’t get nude, but Delia Sheppard and Becky LeBeau sure do. And hey, this starts with Robert Forester physically attacking two nude sex workers in a frenzy, a fact that is forgotten after it happens, kind of like the real Hollywood.

All Alan wanted to do was make nature films. Now he’s making exploitation movies and stuck between two gorgeous blondes. That doesn’t sound like the worst life. Despite having a successful online show — in 1994! — and being a best-selling writer, Dr. Claire Archer still needs to wrap men around her wizard’s sleeve and use people because she’s evil. Yes, a woman in charge of her sexuality, who knows how to use it to get ahead and has become popular because of it, has to be a harridan.

I prefer Pescia in the role, but this has enough for me to enjoy, including the filmmakers grabbing a crew member to play Morton Downer Jr. in a flashback.

You can watch this on Tubi.

SEVERIN BOX SET RELEASE: Fear In the Philippines: The Complete Blood Island Films

From 1959 to 1971, Filipino filmmakers Eddie Romero and Gerry de León —along with Hemisphere Pictures marketing consultant Samuel M. Sherman—booked flights for drive-in audiences to Blood Island. This dark den of zombies, medical experiments, wanton women and terror would last four movies that fans of exploitation films have obsessed over ever since.

I’ve loved these movies ever since I first discovered them when Severin’s first re-releases came out a few years ago. I was so lucky to see many of them at the drive-in.

Now, Severin is re-releasing all of them – scanned uncut in 4K with improved color and audio plus over 8 combined hours of special features – in a new box set that you can get directly from the Severin Films Webstore.

Terror Is a Man (1959): Call it Blood Creature, Creature from Blood Island, The Gory Creatures, Island of TerrorGore Creature, or its most well-known title, Terror Is a Man, but what you should really call it is the first of the Blood Island films. These movies, produced by Eddie Romero and Kane W. Lynn, include Brides of Blood, The Mad Doctor of Blood Island and Beast of Blood.  You can also consider The Blood Drinkers a Blood Island movie.

This movie was in theaters for nearly ten years—until 1969, when distributor Sam Sherman re-released it as Blood Creature with a warning bell that alerted the audience to impending gore.

William Fitzgerald (Richard Derr, who was almost The Shadow in a TV pilot that was turned into a movie called The Invisible Avenger) is the lone survivor of a ship that has crashed on Blood Island. Also, there are Dr. Girard (Francis Lederer, whose Simi Hills home is considered a landmark residence), his frustrated wife Frances (Greta Thyssen, who was in three of the Three Stooges shorts and Cottonpickin’ Chickenpickers) and his assistant Walter Perrera.

Much like The Island of Dr. Moreau, Girard is making half-man, half-animals like the panther he’s been experimenting on that tends to attack villagers. Of course, the doctor’s wife falls in love with the protagonist, and the beast gets loose and kills all sorts of people, including his creator. But hey — that mummy-like cat-eyed fiend seems to survive at the end, as a small island boy sends him away on a rowboat.

Gorgeous natives. Strong men. Crazy doctors. Werecats in bandages. Blood Island. Indeed, this one has it all.

The Severin release includes extras such as interviews with Samuel M. Sherman, co-director Eddie Romero, Pete Tombs (co-author of Of Immoral Tales), and critic Mark Holcomb, a trailer, and a poster and still gallery.

Brides of Blood (1968): This movie, which was originally known as Island of Living Horror, was rereleased with Count Dracula’s Great Love. The former was retitled Cemetery Girls and the latter was renamed Grave Desires.

Much like all of these Filipino horror films, it’s completely bonkers.

The tropics are the place for three Americans to find, well, complete insanity.

Dr. Paul Henderson, a nuclear scientist investigating nuclear bomb tests, is played by Kent Taylor. He was once a major star, playing the title role in fifty-eight Boston Blackie movies. His name is also half the inspiration for Superman’s alter ego (the other star is Clark Gable).

He’s married to the gorgeous but always ready-to-cuckold Carla, Beverly Powers. Beverly was once the highest-paid exotic dancer in the world before becoming an actress and starring with Elvis in SpeedwayKissin’ Cousins and Viva Las Vegas. She also pretty much played herself in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. After all that acting, she became a minister with The Living Ministry in Maui, Hawaii.

Then there’s Jim Farrell, a young Peace Corps member played by John Ashley. Ashley was an AIP star who appeared in Dragstrip Girl and sang his song “Let Yourself Go Go Go” in Zero Hour! He was also a regular in their beach movies, appearing at Beach PartyMuscle Beach PartyBikini BeachBeach Blanket Bingo, and How to Stuff a Wild Bikini.

After living in Oklahoma for a while, Ashley produced these movies with Hemisphere Pictures, living in the Philippines for part of the year and helping to create these little bits of madness.

Our protagonists soon learn that Blood Island is cursed. It’s now a place that has been irradiated by nuclear fallout from those bomb tests, with vines that attack people and butterflies that bite. There’s also a beast in the jungle that tears women apart to get off because, hey, why not?

Carla learns that the beast is one of the villagers, Esteban, but it comes at the price of her own life. She’s an early “sex and people who want sex must be destroyed” casualty decades before this type of destruction de rigeur.

Between carnivorous trees eating Carla’s remains and the movie ending in a vast orgy, this is probably unlike any other film you’ve seen before. You can say that about every single film from this studio.

The press book for the movie suggested that all female theatergoers would get the chance to become Brides of Blood and receive a free engagement ring. There was even the idea of giving away fake marriage certificates, but legal concerns prevented that.

Extras on the Severin release include commentary from  Samuel M. Sherman; interviews with co-director Eddie Romero, Sherman and Beverly Powers; the alternate Brides of Blood Island title sequence and a Jungle Fury title card; a teaser; a trailer and a poster and still gallery.

Mad Doctor of Blood Island (1969): We’re back ten years after we first got to Blood Island. Eddie Romero and Gerardo de Leon have returned in the directing chair, and this time, they’ve brought even more blood, beasts and boobs than they did in their last effort, Brides of Blood.

This film was syndicated to TV as Tomb of the Living Dead and is also known as The Mad Doctor of Crimson Island because, in some states, like Rhode Island, the word “blood” wasn’t allowed in movie advertising.

After Brides of Blood, John Ashley discovered that the film was so well-received that distributors asked him to make more. He moved to the Philippines and got to work.

The film starts with an initiation, as at some theaters, you are given a packet of green liquid and asked to recite the oath of green blood so that you can watch the unnatural green-blooded ones without fear of contamination. Years later, Sam Sherman said that he came up with this idea, and he got incredibly sick when he drank one of the packets. The film’s other gimmick is rapidly zoomed in and out, like Fulci on speed, whenever a monster appears. That was to cover the harmful special effects, but it made plenty of theatergoers sick. Man — destructive green liquid and frequent pans and zooms. It’s as if they wanted kids to puke!

A woman runs naked through a jungle before a green-skinned monster kills her. Yes, that’s how you start a movie!

Then we meet our heroes, like pathologist Dr. Bill Foster (Ashley), Sheila Willard (Angelique Pettyjohn, who was famously in the Star Trek episode “The Gamesters of Triskelion” and early 80s hardcore films like Titillation, Stalag 69 and Body Talk) and Carlos Lopez (Ronaldo Valdez, who would become the first Filipino Kentucky Fried Chicken Colonel).

The ship’s captain, who got them there, tells them how the island is cursed and how its people bleed green blood. Everything falls apart — Sheila’s dad, who she hoped to take home, is now a drunk. And Carlos’ mother refuses to leave, even after the mysterious death of her husband.

It turns out that Dr. Lorca has been experimenting on the natives, who just want to be healthy. Instead, they’re becoming green beasts that murder everything they can. Look out, everyone! I hope you’ve drunk your green blood before this all began!

Angelique Pettyjohn claimed that the love scene with John Ashley was not simulated. Seeing how Severin finally found the uncut film, and I haven’t seen any penetration, I think she’s full of it. But who am I to doubt her?

To make this even better, the American trailer of this is narrated by Brother Theodore!

Extras on the Severin release include commentary by Nathaniel Thompson and Howard S. Berger and a second commentary with Samuel M. Sherman; interviews with Pete Tombs, Mark Holcomb and Eddie Romero; a trailer and a poster and still gallery.

Beast of Blood (1970): All good things must end. This is the final of the Blood Island films and the last movie that Eddie Romero would make for Hemisphere Pictures.

As Dr. Bill Foster (John Ashley), Sheila Willard, her father and Carlos Lopez escape from Blood Island, this movie’s Beast gets on board and goes buck wild, killing everyone he can and blowing up the ship. He survives and heads back to the jungle while Dr. Foster spends months recovering. Everyone he knew or loved is now dead.

Of course, he’s going back to Blood Island.

Dr. Lorca (Eddie Garcia), who apparently died at the end of the last movie, is still alive but horribly scarred. He controls the beast, which can live without its head and even talk and control its own body from afar.

This is less of a narrative movie for me and more a collection of magical images, as bodies squirt blood and beasts have swampy faces and make strange noises while their heads rot inside beakers and lab equipment.

To promote this one, which played a double bill with Curse of the Vampires, the producers printed counterfeit 10 bills that folded in half, with the other side revealing a poster for the film. Those fake sawbucks were scattered all around the neighborhoods where this movie played.

Extras on the Severin release include commentary by Samuel M. Sherman, interviews with Celeste Yarnall and Eddie Garcia; a Super 8 digest version; a trailer; a radio spot and a poster and a still gallery.

Body Chemistry II: The Voice of a Stranger (1992)

Yes, I did watch Body Chemistry 3 and then Body Chemistry 2, while never seeing the first movie, in which Dr. Claire Archer (Lisa Pescia) teaches a man named Tom (Marc Singer) what it’s like to go from The Beastmaster to The Beastbottom. Sure, she’s cosplaying as Alex Forrest, but this is a cheap Concorde cash-in, and you may already know how much I love those.

Pescia returned as the good doctor for the second film and became a radio show host in a small southwestern town. She’s here to replace shock psychologist jock Dr. Edwards (John Landis), who fights with every caller. Her boss? Big Chuck (Morton Downey Jr.). And her real goal? I want to get with former LAPD officer Dan Pearson (Gregory Harrison, former Dr. Gonzo Gates on Trapper John M.D.) despite him reconnecting with high school love Brenda (Robin Riker, Alligator). He’s keeping a secret that he’s been kicked off the most violent police force in the world because he was too brutal, as well as the fact that he was sexually assaulted as a child — or maybe he just saw his dad treating a woman like he was Rocco Siffredi — which makes him crave rough sex as an adult. Are you coming to an erotic thriller for an authentic examination of how people are imprinted with their sexual desires? Or are you here to see bare breasts? Good news. American Emmanuelle Monique Gabrielle shows up and shows out.

For the ladies? Clint Howard as a criminal and Jeremy Piven as a small-town police officer.

Director Adam Simon almost made the first film but chose Brain Dead instead. He also directed Carnosaur and created the TV show Salem. The script was written by Jack Canson (who used the same stage name, Jackson Barr, to write the first movie, Subspecies, Trancers II, Bad Channels and Mandroid) and Christopher Wooden (Kiss Me a Killer, Dinosaur Island).

Why should you spend time watching this? Former “Zip it!” talk show host Downey Jr. is handcuffed, forced to wear a wig and forcibly taken against the glass of a radio studio until he has a heart attack. I didn’t see that one coming.

You can watch this on Tubi.

Cinematic Void January Giallo 2025: Torso (1973)

EDITOR’S NOTE: Cinematic Void will be playing this tonight at 7 p.m. at the Sie Film Center in Denver, CO. (tickets here). It will be hosted by Theresa Mercado with very special co-host James Branscome of Cinematic Void. For more information, visit Cinematic Void.

Torso is such a simple title. I’d rather call this film by its Italian name: I Corpi Presentano Tracce di Violenza Carnale, or The Bodies Bear Traces of Carnal Violence. Either way, it was directed by Sergio Martino and features none of the cast that he had come to use in his past films like George Hilton, Ivan Rassimov or Edwige Fenech.

It does, however, star Brtish actress Suzy Kendall, who played the lead role of Julia in Dario Argento’s seminal The Bird with the Crystal Plumage. She’s so associated with giallo that she appeared as the main character’s mother in 2012’s ode to the genre, Berberian Sound Studio.

This is a film that wastes no time being strange. Or salacious. A photographer is shooting a soft focus lovemaking session between three women amongst creepy, eyeless baby dolls. By the time we register what is happening, we’re now in a classroom, where swooping pans and zooms refer us to the main cast of the film as we overhear a lecture and later a discussion about Pietro Perugino’s painting of Saint Sebastian. Did he believe in God? Or was he just trying to sell sentimentality? Could an atheist find himself able to translate religion to those with faith?

We cut to a couple making out in a car as a figure stalks them through the eye of the camera, making us complicit in the act of the killer. Quick cuts reveal the white-masked face of this maniac. The man runs after him while the girl doesn’t even care that they had a voyeur watching. As she waits for him to return to the car, but grows impatient. The headlights of the car cast her shadow large across the columns of a bridge. And their light is quickly extinguished by black-gloved hands. The camerawork here is really striking, keeping us watching for the killer, as we’re no longer behind his eyes. His attack is swift and ruthless, juxtaposed against the images of fingers penetrating the eyes of a doll.

The art professor (John Richardson, Black Sunday, The Church) and Jane (Kendall) meet by chance at a church where she challenges him to change his views on Perugino. As she returns from their somewhat romantic afternoon, Jane spies her friend Carol arguing in the car with a man who she believes is married.

Meanwhile, ladies of the evening walk the street, ending up with Stefano, a student who has been stalking Julie. He has trouble performing and the prostitute he’s with tells him that all the men with hang-ups always come her way. That said — even if he’s queer, he better pay the money. He flips out and attacks her, but she makes her escape.

We’re then taken to a hippy party that looks like it’s taking place inside Edward Lionheart’s Theater of Blood. There’s weed, there are acoustic guitars, there are bongos, there are dudes with neckerchiefs, there are motorcycles. Truly, there’s something for everyone. But after leading on two men, Carol just walks out into the mud. They try and chase her, but she makes her escape into the foggy night. We hear her footsteps through the swamp as she walks, exhausted and covered in mud. What better time for our white-masked killer to return? We see glimpses of him through the fog and then he is gone. Whereas in past films Martino ignored the murder scenes instead of story, here the violence is extended, placing the killer and his actions in full view. After killing the girl, he rubs mud all over her body before stabbing her eyes — again intercut with the baby doll imagery. Her blood leaks into the mud as the score dies down.

This scene really feels like what the first two Friday the 13th movies were trying to achieve, but of course several years before they were made.

A police detective is in front of the art class, showing images not of art, but of the crime scene. A piece of cloth has been found under the fingernails of one of the murdered students, Flo. And that same scarf was found on Carol’s body. It’s their duty to report seeing anyone who wore this scarf to the police, who want to cooperate with the students who normally riot and throw rocks at them.

Two of the men in the class — Peter and George — were the last two people to be seen with Carol, the ones who she turned down at the party. Meanwhile, Stefano continues to stalk Jane. The music in this film is so forward-leaning — tones play when the killer shows or during moments of tension.

A man calls Daniela and tells her that if she ever tells where she saw the red and black scarf, she’s dead. Fearing for her life, she tells her uncle, who lends his country home to her and her friends so that they can get away from the city while the killer is at large.

Oh yeah — I forgot the pervy scarf salesman, who the police are leaning on. Right after talking to the police inspector, he calls someone and asks for money to buy his silence. Whoever it is, they bought the scarf from him and wouldn’t want anyone else to know. They’ll also get out of town and head to the country. Coincidence? I think not!

Stefano is all over Dani, telling her that he needs her. She wants nothing to do with him. When she stares at him, she remembers seeing him wear the red scarf. She escapes — slamming the door in his face. She tells Jane that she remembers seeing him wear the scarf — and never again — the day Flo died. The whole time, the creepy uncle is watching the two girls. Jane offers to speak to Stefano, then meet the girls at the vacation home.

The street vendor is flush with cash, creeping along in the dark. A car starts to follow him. We see the black-gloved hands again as the car hits its victim again and again, bright red gore pouring all over the screen.

Jane goes to speak to Stefano, finding only strange baby dolls and letters to Dani asking her to love him and remember the promise that she made as a little girl. Jane is surprised by Stefano’s grandmother, who tells her that he left town.

The other girls are asleep on the train as someone watches them. A strange man enters their train car and sits down.

The camerawork in this movie feels as predatory as the perverts and killers that exist within it. Speaking of pervs, when the girls arrive in the countryside, the local men pretty much lose their minds, particularly over Ursula (Carla Brait, the man wrestling dancer from The Case of the Bloody Iris). She and Katia make out as a peeping tom watches, only for the killer to show up and off the leering man. There’s an amazing scene of the killer dumping the pervert into a well, shot underwater and staring upward as the body falls toward the lens.

Man, every man in this movie is scum. They’re either frightened boys or perverts wanting one chance to knock up a woman or scarred from past sexual encounters. None of them are positive, as even the uncle who gives Dani the villa seems way too interested in her. Every man is a predator at worst and a leering pervert at best.

Jane hurts her ankle when she gets overly excited about breakfast. A doctor arrives — the mysterious man from the train — and he gives her a pill, which knocks her out.

The girls go sunbathing while Jane recovers. Dani thinks she sees Stefano — complete with the red scarf — watching them. They return home and drink champagne, which Jane uses to wash down her sleeping pills.

A few minutes later, the door rings. It’s Stefano — the girls all scream — but he’s dead — the girls scream again — and the killer is behind him, holding the red scarf — now scream even louder! Instead of showing us the murders, Martino switches form, cutting to a ringing bell and Stefano being buried.

Jane wakes up, asking where her breakfast is. She’s obviously slept late as a result of the pills. She walks around the apartment, looking for Dani, Ursula and Katia, only to find a mess. Tossed chairs, bottles of beer and every single one of her friends murdered. Suzy Kendall is amazing in this scene, caught between fear and nausea. Unlike so many wooden giallo performances, she’s actually believable.

She hides as the killer comes back, forced to stay quiet and watch as he saws her friends into pieces. Even the ordinary world routine of the milkman arriving cannot stop the butchering of her friends, with her trapped just feet away.

This final act is completely unexpected, as up until now, the film had played by the rules of the giallo, the large number of victims versus a large number of red herrings.

In fact, this film is so packed with red herrings, even the cast had no idea who the killer was. Martino wouldn’t tell them who it was, so each of the actresses had her own theory as to who the killer was. And in the original script, the killer survived.

Now, instead of that traditional giallo structure as I mentioned above, it is the last survivor — a near prototype for the final girl — against a killer. Throw in that Julie can’t move well due to her leg and Martino has set up quite the suspenseful coda.

Trapped in the house, Julie tries to signal with a mirror, using Morse code. But it totally misses the heroic doctor’s sight. He places a call, but it doesn’t seem like it’s to Julie. She looks out the window and sees the killer coming back.

It turns out that the killer was the professor, who saw a childhood friend die trying to reach for a doll. He compares the other kills to dolls, with only Julie as a flesh and blood person. Everyone else was a bitch or played games with him or blackmailed him. He hacked Ursula and Katia to pieces like dolls as a result. Dani saw him. Carol may have seen him. And he killed Stefano when he saw him in the village. Death, he says, is the best keeper of secrets and then he sees Julie as a doll and tries to hang her. She’s saved at the last second by the doctor.

They battle into a farmhouse, across the yard and to a similar rock where we saw the younger professor watch his friend die. We hear a screen and have no idea who has been killed — but luckily for Jane, the doctor survives.  He discusses whether fate or providence had kept him in town, where he could save her. Perhaps it was written in the stars. Julie replies that Franz, the professor, would have been a realist and called it a necessity. Franz is dead and the dreamers live on.

The more times that I’ve watched this film, the more that I appreciate it and how it flips the genre conventions on their head and moves toward more of a slasher, with many of the giallo elements feeling tacked on somewhat to stay within the expected pieces of the form. A real clue that it’s really a slasher? The killings are more important than who the killer is.