Tag Archives: 1972

PURE TERROR MONTH: Enter the Devil (1972)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Bill Van Ryn is the man behind the website Groovy Doom and the zine Drive-In Asylum. You should grab an issue after reading this.

Independent regional production Enter the Devil was shot in Texas by producer/director Frank Q. Dobbs, who made four regional theatrical releases (one of them a hardcore porn flick titled The California Connection) before moving to a more prolific career in TV production.  Don’t confuse it with 1974 Italian Exorcist cash-in L’Osessa, which was also known as Enter the Devil in various territories. This movie belongs squarely alongside low budget devil cult opuses like Race with the Devil and The Devil’s Rain instead of possession flicks. 

A motorist traveling through the desert is victimized when his tire is shot out by an unseen person. Finding his spare tire flat, the guy hitches a ride with a guy in a pickup truck, only to end up flat on his back on a Satanic altar, surrounded by a large group of hooded figures carrying torches, who sacrifice him with a large cruciform knife. It’s safe to say the locals are pretty weird there.

The sheriff sends his deputy, Jase (David S. Cass Sr.), to investigate the man’s disappearance, and not too long afterwards, a couple of hunters find the missing guy’s car all burned out, his charred remains behind the wheel. Jase is a textbook example of an arrogant prick, behaving rudely to a gas station attendant and just about everyone else in the film, too. He stays at a lodge run by acquaintance Glen (Josh Bryant), currently hosting a group of obnoxious deer hunters who make unwanted sexual advances to Glen’s Mexican employee, Maria (Linda Rascoe). One guy in particular gets a little too eager and tries to rape Maria after cornering her in an isolated part of the lodge. Maria is rescued by her cousin, a scary Mexican dude (Norris Domingue) with a badass mustache, and we’re not too surprised when the would-be rapist ends up kidnapped by the hooded cult and thrown into a pit full of rattlesnakes.  

Maria isn’t our damsel in distress, however — she clearly knows something about the shady shenanigans going on in the area — and from nowhere comes Leslie (Irene Kelly), an anthropologist who wants to study the existence of a Christian cult rumored to be in the area. Glen moves in on her and easily invites himself into her cabin for a night of lovemaking, but we the viewers know she’s on a collision course with the Disciples of Death.

At 75 minutes, Enter the Devil doesn’t ask too much of your time, and it’s a fairly economical thriller, if a little routine. When it comes time for the hooded cultists to reveal their identities, we’re not surprised to find out that they’re the silent Mexicans who work for Glen and also in the local mine, but there’s at least one face among them that may come as a surprise to those of you who haven’t been paying close attention. There are a few well directed chase scenes, and the action inside the caves is very atmospheric. This is a PG-rated thing, so there’s no significant flesh on display or gory money shots. Can we talk about the sets, though? This movie looks more like a Western than anything else, with vast desert expanses, a dusty ghost town vibe, and spooky mines. There’s even a scene where someone is threatened by a runaway mine cart. There are a few scenes set inside the lodge cabins, which have a total late 60s shag carpet look, and I was ready to book a reservation.  

Seekers of sex and violence may be a little disappointed by how tame the film is. Cass appears in nothing but his tightie whities all of a sudden, but nobody’s naked in this one, and the Satanists aren’t intent on sacrificing any nude virgins. There is a rather horrible moment when a female victim is burned alive after being bound with barbed wire, and her body darkens horribly in the flames. That charred corpse in the beginning of the movie is pretty gruesome as well, reminding me of what happened to poor Ben Tramer in Halloween II.  It’s interesting to note that Byron Quisenberry, director of the ultra low budget Scream from 1981, did the stunts in this film and also appears as a character. 

PURE TERROR MONTH: One Minute Before Death (1972)

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Leading lady Wanda Hendrix, a contract player in the ‘40s and ‘50s with Warner Bros. and Paramount, is best known to film historians for her marriage to WWII war hero-turned-actor Audie Murphy. The storybook marriage—on which the ‘50s gossip sheets thrived—was over in seven months; the controversy surrounding the marriage—Audie’s wartime PDST issues caused outbreaks of marital violence—instigated irreparable harm to Hendrix’s career from which she never recovered.

As did ‘40s starlet Veronica Lake, Hendrix made guest appearance on television series during the ‘60s, and then moved into horror films. While Lake made her final bow with Flesh Feast (1970) and Joan Crawford appeared in Trog (1970), Hendrix closed out her career at the age of 44 with this Gothic, Civil War tale originally released as The Oval Portrait.

Based on the Edgar Allen Poe short-story, this minor “old dark house” flick concerns a woman, Lisa Buckingham (Hendrix), who attends the reading of a will at her uncle’s home. She soon becomes “possessed” by the soul her cousin Rebecca, depicted—and trapped—inside an oil portrait.

Watch the trailer.

While this meanders with a slowly unfolding plot awash in muddy cinematography (Are the prints bad or was the director attempting to achieve an “atmosphere”?), this Mexican shot and directed tale by Rogelio A. Gonzàlez has a José Mojica Marins-influence crossed with Mario Bava-styled horrors (Bava’s Lisa and the Devil comes to mind with its aristocrats dealing with the supernatural and necrophilia) as Lisa’s newfound behaviors—such as finding and wearing Rebecca’s old clothes—cause her cousin, Rebecca’s widow, Joseph, to go off the deep end and dig up Rebecca’s crumbly corpse for a little ballroom dance n’ romance.

Is Rebecca back from the dead for revenge? Is Lisa caught in a Let’s Scare Jessica to Death-inspired drive-her-crazy-for-the-money plot? Is the creepy, Paul Naschy-esque red-herring housekeeper giving Joseph the ol’ Henry James screw turn?

Released in the wake George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead—when horror was “hot” again—Wanda Hendrix was hoping for a big horror hit to revitalize her career. It wasn’t meant to be: three times divorced and childless, she died of double pneumonia at the age of 52 in 1981.

The film’s beautiful score is by Les Baxter, who also scored Cry of the Banshee, Frogs, and the Quentin Tarantino favorite, Switchblade Sisters.

For other A-List actors from the ’40s and ’50s “going horror,” check out Fritz Weaver in The Demon Seed, Edith Atwater in Die Sister, Die, Rock Hudson in Embryo, Mickey Rooney in The Manipulator, and Jeanne Craine in The Night God Screamed.

About the Author: You can read the music and film criticisms of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his rock ‘n’ roll biographies, along with horror and sci-fi novellas, on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

PURE TERROR MONTH: The Vampires Night Orgy (1972)

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Vampires, cannibalism, graveyards, nudity, and gore. Oh, my!
Vampires, cannibalism, graveyards, nudity, and gore. Oh, my!
I’m confused. What’s going on? Who is that? Oh, my!
Why is there no apostrophe before the “s” my dear, Dorothy?
Because there’s more than one vampire, can’t you see?
So, doesn’t the “Night Orgy” belong to the vampires many;
There should be an apostrophe after the “s” I do believe.
You’re over analyzing the film, R.D;
Just turn your neck so I can feed, as
Punctuation lessons are not part of my blood cult’s creed.
I know, Helga, my dear;
You’re sick and tired of my pseudo Dr. Seuss poetry.
Yes, R.D, you are a dumbass film dweeb.
I’ll shut my mouth;
Click your heels, dear Helga;
Let’s slop across this bloody brick road.
We’re off to see the Blood Countess . . .
The wonderful Blood Countess of the Night Orgy Oz!

Now we’re talking. A film with the words “Vampires” and “Orgy” and a Paul Naschy connection! Look at that DVD cover. You got two semi-breast shots. You got one hot vamp-babe carrying a woman and another vamp-babe goin’ down on a guy’s neck!

Is this one of those rare occasions when the cheesy art work lives up to the film? Eh, sort of. It depends on which cut of the film you’re seeing. You know how it goes with American TV and video distributors: they never want us Euro-horror lovin’ horndogs have any fun!

The Naschy connection comes in two forms: First, we have heart-melting Belgian actress Dyanik Zurakowska from his Mark of the Wolfman (1968) and The Hanging Woman (1973) as a vamp-victim (she’s starred in 40 films, so you better get to a-rentin’!). Then we have Naschy’s long-time collaborator, León Klimovsky, who directs this dripping-with-atmosphere tale.

We did another take back in September 2019 for it’s inclusion during the Drive-In Super Monster-rama.

And that’s not all! Wow! Look at this cast!

We’ve got two Juan Logar alumni: American expatriate actor Jack Taylor of Autopsia (1973) and Jose Guardiola of Transplant of a Brain (1970).

Then we’ve got Maria Jose Cantudo of Paul Naschy’s Horror Rises from the Tomb (1973), Amando de Ossorio’s “Blind Dead” sequel, The Ghost Galleon (1974), Jess Franco’s Count Dracula (1970; with Christopher Lee, Klaus Kinksi and Herbert Lom), and Klimovsky and Naschy’s Universal tribute, Dr. Jekyll vs. The Wolfman (1972). Maria also went full frontal in Franco’s hardcore-porn vamp-romp, Bare Breasted Countess (1975).

And there’s Luis Ciges of Naschy and Carlos Aured’s Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll (1974) and Horror Rises from the Tomb, along with Klimovsky and Naschy’s Vengeance of the Zombies (1973). Along with Helga Liné, Ciges was also in Klimovsky’s The Dracula Saga (1973).

Rounding out the cast is Manual de Blas of The Ghost Galleon and Paul Naschy’s Hunchback of the Morgue (1973), along with Charo Soriano from The Garden of Delights (1970), and Fernando Bilbao from de Ossorio’s Fangs of the Living Dead (1968) and Franco’s Dracula, Prisoner of Frankenstein (1972).

And . . . sigh! Dear Lord, be still my heart and hold steady my tender loins as the star of this Spanish vamp festival is Helga Liné (Eugenio Martin’s Horror Express; 1972) as the rich bitch blood countess-vampire queen of the hive. (I’m bending my head to expose my neck now, Helga!)

And with this cast—led by Helga—who needs continuity or logic?

As is the case with most Spanish horror films of the period: Two versions of La orgía nocturna de los vampires were shot: one with actors clothed and one with nudity. The clothed version was mostly for Spanish distribution while the nude version played in the rest of Europe—and the clothed ones (with more edit-killing continuity) ended up on U.S TV in the ‘70s and VHS video in the ‘80s—and appears in this Mill Creek cut (and most of the econo-friendly box sets).

Regardless of the “orgy” and the implied “gore,” there isn’t much gore and the nudity is only in three scenes—and the “orgies” are so-so. When the gore comes, it’s effective; but what The Vampires Night Orgy does have, as do all of the what-the-fuck-is-going-on shenanigans of Spanish horror films: lots of atmosphere.

And not a lot of sense: The “churchless” town is deserted, but there plenty of clean beds and the booze flows plentiful at the local tavern. But it’s the “afterworld” and the devil or a connected blood countess can make “things appear,” right? And while there’s booze, there no meat to serve the tourists to keep ‘em fat and happy. So the vamps hospitality-string along any stranded tourists that happen by, suck them dry, serve the leftovers to the survivors, then suck another one, etc., and so one. And Helga gets first choice: always. In one scene: she plugs a horn dog, sucks ‘em, then tosses the meat out the second floor window to the fanged hoards below. (Bitch be crazy! Helga I’m ready for my window toss!)

To place this film into a contemporary context with a film you’ve more likely heard of or seen: 30 Days of Night, only with its vampire town in the Carpathian Mountains run by Helga as a bus load of six tourists take the obligatory “wrong turn” and end up in the uninhabited town of Tonia, Transylvania—where the vamps are more cannibals than vamps and attack in Lucio Fulci-style, zombie wolf packs. And that pack is in full force when Jack Taylor (Luis) and Dyanik Zurakowska (Alma) barley make it out with their blood intact in an escape-by-chased car scenario. When they arrive safely in Bojoni, the town of their original destination before their detour, the superstitious townspeople pull the ‘ol Hershell Gordon Lewis Two Thousand Maniacs dues ex machina on them: there is no such town. Huh? So the vamps weren’t “vamps,” they were the ghost of vamps? Denied! What the fuck is going on here!

Eh, screw continuity. Screw logic. Screw the perpetual stupidity of the tourists. People are vanishing and dying, yet the little daughter of one is allowed to prance in the mountains and run in a graveyard with a ghost boy? Screw it. Screw the dubbing that rivals the worst in Asian cinema. Screw it. Follow the Red Brick Road to Madrid . . . Helga Liné is at the end of the line.

She’s the Wicked Witch of My West and so help me god, trust me, you’ll enjoy every bite. It’s a wonderful Spanish Oz.

About the Author: You can learn more about the work of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writers for B&S About Movies.

PURE TERROR MONTH: Frankenstein ’80 (1972)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Bill Van Ryn is the man behind the website Groovy Doom and the zine Drive-In Asylum. He’s the inspiration for me to write more about movies.

I’ve seen the movie Frankenstein ’80 a number of times already, and I still can’t point to any reason that it carries this title. If there is an explanation somewhere in the movie, then I missed it about seven times. It’s an Italian film originally released in 1972, and the sole directorial effort from Mario Mancini, better known as a camera operator and/or DP for a number of films, including Mario Bava’s Blood and Black Lace and Black Sabbath. 

Frankenstein ’80 shows us what we assume to be a descendant of the good doctor operating out of a secret laboratory in his clinic. A rival scientist, Professor Schwartz, has created a serum that prevents the rejection of transplants. Despite the life-changing implications of a substance like this, Schwartz has only made a single bottle of the stuff, which makes it rough when the bottle goes missing, resulting in the death of Schwartz’s latest transplant hopeful.

Of course the bottle has been stolen by Dr. Frankenstein, or rather, Frankenstein’s emissary, a hulking man that Frankenstein calls Mosaic, sewn together from stray body parts. Frankenstein is obsessed with the idea of perfecting Mosaic, and Schwartz’s formula will do nicely in helping achieve this. Dr. Frankie in this movie is played by American actor Gordon Mitchell, a former bodybuilding champ who followed the example of Steve Reeves and other muscleheads like Mickey Hargitay and Brad Harris in forging an acting career in European-lensed movies. He looks a little svelte in this movie for a bodybuilder, so this must have been after his lifting days. The beef in this movie is Mosaic, played by a hulking actor named Xiro Papas (who, rather ironically, died in the year….1980). Mosaic has the nasty habit of rampaging through the local village, murdering random women and making off with one of their internal organs, which he takes back to Frankenstein to use as his own. Frankenstein scolds the creature for these brutal murders the way a parent would scold a child for eating cookies before dinner (“Mosaic, you must stop this killing!”), but he does use the organs after all, which only reinforces Mosaic’s bad behavior. Although we see the monster kill men, we only see him steal organs from women, so there’s no explanation as to where Dr. Frankenstein gets the “gonad” transplant that he uses to increase Mosaic’s sexual potency. Maybe it’s better that way.

Dr. Frankenstein sure is a stupid dick, too, because -duh- this turns the monster into a sexual predator as well. In a movie full of disturbing murders, one of the hardest to watch is a scene where Mosaic rapes a prostitute who seems to be somewhat overwhelmed by the size of his “external organ”, then strangles her during the afterglow. Frankenstein has been trailing Mosaic during this episode, but arrives too late to prevent the murder, ushering Mosaic into his clothes and out of the apartment with barely more than a “naughty, naughty.”

By now you should understand that Frankenstein ‘80 is completely absurd. It actually predates Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein in its blending of broad comedy with visceral horror, and it comes close to matching that film’s gut-churning violence. Mosaic’s murders are sudden and brutal, and they often are prefaced by the victim being kind to him; a female butcher gives him some friendly customer service before he rudely follows her into the freezer and beats her to death with a large femur. Even the hooker is nice to him, sort of, until she gets a good look at him naked and sees that he’s all stitched together. I don’t know if I’d call it camp, it’s not easy to gauge the movie’s own self-awareness since the English audio track is one of those dodgy dub jobs, but some of the scenarios do seem intentionally over the top, such as the subplot of the local law enforcement vainly trying to keep up with Mosaic’s murders. 

What really could have helped Frankenstein ‘80 would have been at least a fraction of Paul Morrissey’s style or wit, not to mention his budget. There are no real serious moments in Frankenstein ‘80, no commentary on the decadence of the wealthy nobility, no pondering of the human condition by considering the liberties taken by these reckless practitioners of so-called medicine, and an almost total lack of suspense. What it does have is sleaze, in great gory buckets, and a disturbing partiality for the brutal murder of beautiful women, who are usually stripped of their clothing before being throttled or clobbered by the hulking monster. Lest we accuse the filmmakers of being sexist, I must point out that male victims suffer greatly as well, including one guy who is killed in a public men’s room. He’s just taking a piss, minding his own business, when Mosaic moves on him like a sex addict in a truck stop – except he doesn’t want to give the guy a quick blowjob in a stall, he takes the guy’s head and smashes it against the tile wall, resulting in an explosion of gore. Now that’s just plain rude.

Toys Are Not for Children (1972)

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Man, I would have never survived the 1970’s. It was too full of sin and sleaze, too many drugs, too many cults. I’m reminded of this every single time I watch a piece of cinematic insanity from that most bonkers of all decades.

Arrow Video has gifted me with one more reminder of why this was the most dangerous and demented of all eras with Toys Are Not for Children.

What can you say about a movie that starts with a young woman playing under the covers — yes, the dirty side of playing — with a doll that her father sent her for her birthday being interrupted by her mother?

Jamie Goddard is that young girl, emotionally stunted by the loss of her father and unable to embrace her sexuality unless it’s within the world of prostitution and daddy/little girl play. She’s played by Marcia Forbes, a one and done actress who was probably chased away by just how insane this entire film is.

Fran Warren, who plays the role of the mother, was a major recording star in the 40’s and 50’s. Perhaps you know her song “A Sunday Kind of Love” or saw her in Abbott and Costello Meet Captain Kidd. She pretty much abuses her daughter, who only finds joy in the toys from daddy and the ones she sells at a toy store. Then she gets married to Charlie and can’t consummate with him — the pull of daddy is too strong.

So she does what any of us would. She falls in with a lesbian prostitute and her pimp, starts making love to dirty old men and finally gets what she always wanted. The chance to be with — and yes, I mean with in the most perverted sense of the world — her father.

Director/writer Stanley H. Brassloff only would direct one other film, Two Girls for a Madman. After watching this, I need to chase down that movie, too.

Make no mistake, this is the kind of movie that is going to make you sick to your stomach. I kind of like that feeling. You may not. It would pair nicely with The Baby or Private Parts. If you’re the kind of adventurous film watcher that I am, you’re probably beyond excited to hunt this one down.

This new blu ray release also features new audio commentary with Kat Ellinger and Heather Drain, an appreciation of the movie by Nightmare USA author Stephen Thrower, a video essay by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, the original theme song and trailer and reversible cover art of the original poster and artwork by The Twins of Evil.

You can get this from Arrow Video.

DISCLAIMER: We were sent this movie for review by Arrow Video. That has no impact on our thoughts.

PURE TERROR MONTH: Blood Sabbath (1972)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: An American living in London, Jennifer Upton is a freelance writer for International publishers Story Terrace and others. In addition, she has a blog where she frequently writes about horror and sci-fi called Womanycom.

2024 update: I was a bit hard on this film the first time I watched and reviewed it. I’ve watched it three times and there’s something dreamlike about it that grows on you. It’s now one of my favorites precisely because of all its flaws.

Blood Sabbath’s Internet Movie Database list of Plot Keywords includes: acoustic guitar, public nudity, walking naked in the woods, bare breasts, foot chase, selling soul and goat. If these ingredients were put together in the right way, it would make an entertaining film. Blood Sabbath (1972) is not that film. It is ambitious but also boring.

Every director has to start somewhere. Brianne Murphy’s story is more interesting than the film itself. After moving with her family to America, she studied acting in New York. She joined the circus as a trick horse rider and eventually landed in Hollywood where she married low-budget filmmakers Jerry Warren (The Wild Wild World of Batwoman) and Ralph Brooke (Bloodlust!) successively. She eclipsed them both in talent and went on to become an Emmy-award-winning cinematographer on the ‘70s TV shows Wonder Woman, Little House on The Prairie, and Highway to Heaven. In 1980 she became the first female director of photography on a major studio film, Fatso starring Dom DeLouise, directed by Ann Bancroft. 

In 1982 Murphy won the Academy Award for Scientific and Engineering Plaque for the co-design and manufacturing of the MISI Camera Insert Car and Process Trailer. A camera rig that allows driving scenes to be filmed with a towing apparatus – a standard piece of equipment in today’s higher-budget productions. Blood Sabbath (1972) was Brianne Murphy’s only foray into directing. 

The film stars Tony Geary (Luke Spencer of TV’s General Hospital) as a whiney recently discharged (or was he?) Vietnam Vet named David. The film opens with David wandering through the woods of Mexico with nothing but a sleeping bag and acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. While camping under a tree, he is assaulted by a band of naked American hippie chicks. For most cis-gender heterosexual males, this would be cause for celebration but David inexplicably screams, “Hey! What is this?” and “Christ! Get away from me!” as they tear his pants off. 

After running away from the women and fainting next to a small lake, David is revived by a beautiful water nymph named Yyala (Susan Damante) who speaks to him softly until he passes out again. This time, he is aided by a grizzled old guy name Lonzo (Sam Gilman) who lives in a shack in the woods and survives off the fish in Yyala’s lake. The closest neighbor is a coven of witches who live on a nearby mountain. They are led by Alotta, Queen of the Witches played by Dyanne Thorne. She does indeed have a lotta.

One day, Alotta spies on Yyala and David making out and decides she’d like to have David for herself. She performs candle Magick and tries to cast a love spell on David, to no avail. He is smitten with Yala. Sadly, they can never consummate their love for each other because he is “of the land” with a soul and she is “from the sea” without one. Perhaps the script was written to be filmed by the sea and all the location scout could find was a tiny lake? It’s just one of several inconsistencies throughout the film. 

Now desperate to be rid of his soul, David accompanies Lonzo to the local village’s annual harvest celebration. Their fruitful bounty is not because they’re good farmers. Once a year, the villagers choose a female child to be brought by Lonzo to the witches on the mountain. Alotta, takes the little girl’s soul and inducts her into the coven to grow and up and live among them. In return, Alotta casts a spell to ensure healthy crops for the farmers. 

David stops Lonzo and trades places with this year’s chosen child. Then he can be with Yyala for all eternity. David makes a deal with Alotta that he can be with Yyala with one caveat. If Yyala should ever tire of David and leave him, he must return to Alotta and be her lover instead.

The soul removal ceremony is a success and David and Yyala enjoy a montage of happiness frolicking through the fields over shots of flowers, and groovy flute and synth music. At the next full moon Alotta tricks David into participating in a blood sacrifice and seduces him by appearing to him as Yyala. Then, she plays Yyala, David and Lonzo against each other by telling them each a different story of the evening’s events, causing all manner of mistrust, murder and mayhem.

The film concludes on an interesting albeit confusing note. David vengefully stabs Alotta (not before she takes her clothes off to the sound of cats growling.) As she lay dying, she places her final curse on him that he be killed by his own people. He staggers off into a field, has a ‘Nam flashback and is killed after being run over in a field by the hippies from the beginning of the film. Was David dead all along, killed in Vietnam? It seems so. In the final shot, his spirit swims off into the sunset with Yyala. A happy ending of sorts that likely takes inspiration from the same award-winning 1962 French short film An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge. The same film that Jacob’s Ladder (1990) drew from 18 years later. An ambitious idea let down in Blood Sabbath by a slow plot, poor dialogue and bad acting. A good effort, but overall a letdown. Fortunately, Brianne Murphy’s career was not bogged down by the film.

A Thief In the Night (1972)

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When I was a kid, my parents went to a lot of religious bookstores for some reason. I was always left to my own devices and would always find my way to the Jack Chick comics and posters on the wall. In the pre-millennium tension world that was the late 1970’s, one movie was always getting shown and that was A Thief In the Night.

This movie is thought to have been seen by an estimated 300 million people and was the pioneer of a whole new genre of Christian film, one that would marry rock music and horror movies to create a film that would, quite frankly, scare you into believing. This isn’t family-friendly evangelic filmmaking. This is punch you in the face and demand you get saved now mania.

Patty Myer wakes up to learn that millions of people have disappeared in the Rapture. Even her family is gone and she’s been left behind. She’s trapped in a world where the United Nations has set up an emergency government system called the United Nations Imperium of Total Emergency (UNITE) and declare that those who do not receive a symbol of identification — yes, the Mark of the Beast — will be arrested.

It didn’t have to be this way for Patty. One of her friends loved Jesus and followed Him. Another friend was bitten by a snake before finding his way. And now, she doesn’t believe in Jesus or the UNITE preachings, so she’s on the run.

Patty is chased by UNITE to a bridge where she falls to her death, but then she awakens only for it to all be a dream. But guess what? The Rapture happens again and her family is all gone again. What happens next? Will she accept the Mark? Will she try to find her way to Heaven? If even a priest will take the Mark, how can a normal person avoid Satan?

There were three other movies in this series — of course we’ll be covering all of them — and they all build on the tension of the end of all things. These things played in libraries and churches and used fear to lead the conversion call at the end. I’ve never understood that, but the majority of humanity leaves me questioning a lot of things.

Theif in the Night 2

All I know is that I spent most of my childhood nights awake in bed worrying about the end of the world. Would I be ready? Would I make it to the Rapture? How would I survive when the rest of my family went to Heaven and I was left alone to battle the forces of the evil ones? I would get the shakes, waking my whole family up screaming in terror.

Did the movie work? According to an interview on a Baptist church website, Heather Hendershoot, associate professor in the media studies department at Queens College, City University of New York said, “I have found that A Thief in the Night is the only evangelical film that viewers cite directly and repeatedly as provoking a conversion experience.”

25 years later, the authors of the Left Behind series of books and films had the same success but on a much more secular level. We’ll never lose our fear of the end times until after they come…and according to scripture, we’ll never know exactly when we’ll all be taken or left behind.

You can watch this for free on Amazon Prime or Archive.org, as well as You Tube via the Christian Movies portal. There’s even an official website if you want to learn more.

Boxcar Bertha (1972)

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In 1967, Martin Scorsese made his first movie, the black and white film I Call First, which was later retitled to Who’s That Knocking at My Door. Originally intended as the first of the director’s semiautobiographical J. R. Trilogy — along with Mean Streets — it was followed by this movie, an adaption of American anarchist Ben L. Reitman’s semi-autobiographical Sister of the Road. Made for Roger Corman, it taught Scorsese that movies could be made cheaply yet still entertain audiences while reinforcing his friend and mentor John Cassavetes’ belief that the auteur should make the movies that he wanted to make, instead of someone else’s projects.

Actually, Cassavetes was pretty blunt. After Scorsese showed him the finished product, the actor embraced him and said, “Marty, you’ve just spent a whole year of your life making a piece of shit. It’s a good picture, but you’re better than the people who make this kind of movie. Don’t get hooked into the exploitation market, just try and do something different.”

Boxcar Bertha Thompson (Barbara Hershey) and “Big” Bill Shelly (David Carradine) are train robbers and lovers embroiled in the plight of railroad workers as they try to unionize. Bertha is implicated in a murder and the two become fugitives.

Bernie Casey shows up as Von Morton and Carradine’s father John is also in this as H. Buckram Sartoris. Seeing as how it was a Corman picture, it wasn’t always intended to be an art project, as the producer wanted another Bloody Mama.

Hershey said that the movie was “a lot of fun even though it’s terribly crippled by Roger Corman and the violence and sex. But between the actors and Marty Scorsese the director, we had a lot of fun. We really had characters down but one tends to not see all that, because you end up seeing all the blood and sex.”

There was a rumor that Roger Corman’s wife Julie Corman had actually obtained the rights to the story from Bertha Thompson herself. The story goes that Corman had tracked her down to a hotel in San Francisco, but the woman wouldn’t let her in. It’s also a great lesson in carnie PR work, as the author explained that there wasn’t ever a real Bertha. In fact, she was a combination of at least three women he knew.

I have to wonder how the Cormans reacted when they finally saw this and all of the violence that was usually so exciting in the early 70’s new Hollywood pictures felt so doomed here.

You can watch this on Amazon Prime.

Preacherman (1971)

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There’s nothing I hate more than seeing the Troma logo displayed before a movie they only have the rights to. It’s often enough to make me shut a film off, which I did with this one before heading back one more time to try and make it through.

Preacherman was shot entirely on location in Monroe, North Carolina and was produced by a Charlotte, NC production company, Preacherman Corp. Eleven of the seventeen actors in this movie were locals from the Carolinas and most of the crew was from there, too. Outside of star, writer, producer and director Amos Juxley (actually Brooklyn-born Albery T. Viola) and Iilene Kristen, who played Mary Lou and would go on to be on Ryan’s Hope and One Life to Live, not many of them ever acted again.

The Preacherman Amos Huxley loves to get money and make love to young ladies, which runs him afoul of the law in White Oak County. Soon, Amos has escaped yet another series of cops and begins living with the Crabtree family, who are farmers and therefore must have a farmer’s daughter, Mary Lou. He somehow convinces everyone that he’s going to return her virtue and also gets her to believe that the angel Leroy is coming to make her clean again.

The cops are in on the Crabtree’s main crop, which is moonshine, but the Preacherman convinces them to start a new church funded by that demon alcohol. Hijinks, as they say, ensue.

Bill Simpson, who played Sheriff Zero Bull also played Zero in Moonshine Mountain. He also reprised that role in the sequel. Yes, somehow there was a second movie in this series, entitled Preacherman Meets Widderwoman, which never received a national distribution and only played regionally in the South. Screenwriters Joseph Alvarez and W. Henry Smith also penned the hicksploitation-centric romps Trucker’s Woman and Redneck Miller.

You can watch this on Amazon Prime.

J.C. (1972)

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Jesus Christ is born again on Earth. Maybe. Then again, he could also be a biker tripping on acid with a hardcore Southern Baptist preacher daddy. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s got his gang of bikers and he’s taking them on an LSD-fueled pilgrimage to the Promised Land. Oh 1972 — what a magical time you were for completely off the rails movies.

The title doesn’t show up for fifteen minutes and the same guy that wrote and directed this — William F. McGaha — also stars in it. He did the same thing for two other movies, Bad Girls for the Boys and The Speed Lovers.

Somehow, he was able to convince Joana Moore (Touch of Evil), Slim Pickens (the guy rode a nuke into Russia for us, folks) and Burr DeBenning (five years before he’d chase a melting Steve West all over the city).

With a tagline like “J.C. And His Disciples Were A Gang Of Broads, Bikes And Blacks,” how can you really go wrong? Well, the actual film doesn’t live up to the premise, of a biker Jesus changing the world, but on this budget, they were lucky he changed his vestments.

The poster and taglines though? That’s what movies are all about.