The Mammoth Book of Slasher Movies (Mammoth Books)

by Peter Normanton

  The film remained banned in Britain until 2002 when the BBFC endorsed its submission on the provision that twenty-two seconds were removed from the razor-blade murder and its release came with a minimum of publicity. The film was only issued in the VHS format, as many UK DVD distributors were still reluctant to carry this abominable episode. It wasn’t until 2007 that the film was released to DVD by Shameless Films, this time with only nineteen seconds of editing.

  DAVE, A GLAMOUR photographer, finds himself in dire straits when one of his models is horrifically murdered by a masked knife-wielding killer. Next on the list is his former fiancée. In a series of freeze-frame sequences both have been stabbed in the face and then, off-camera, the killer has taken to disembowelling them. The mutilations are said to resemble the work of Jack the Ripper. It doesn’t take long before Dave becomes the chief suspect in this case. He also fears for the life of his new girlfriend, who until about thirty-six hours before was also modelling before his lens. Murder follows murder as the cast are rolled on screen only to be hacked and slashed by the killer’s knife. With the maniac’s identity having remained a mystery for the entire film the creepy finale takes place in a mannequin factory, with the final kill being a moment for aficionados of the genre to savour.

  Jeff Hathcock’s film was shot on video with the VHS generation in mind, appearing at a time when the grindhouse cinemas were beginning to close down in the face of this increasingly successful competition. If he had only been granted a single week’s run in these cinemas his audience might have significantly grown. Few people ever had the chance to see Night Ripper’s rock-bottom budget killings; in fact only a handful of copies ever made it across the Atlantic. Hathcock’s efforts reflect his insignificant budget, and included typically dubious acting, questionable dialogue, and the editing drawing almost every scene to a close with the shot slowly fading to black. To add to this movie’s tragically amateur appearance, an eighties disco vibe was mixed with the sleaze of the porn scores from a decade past. However, for all of its failings there was an enthusiasm at work here, which steered this tale to an effective climax, and to the special effects team’s abounding credit it included some rather gory slashings. As with the rest of Hathcock’s shot-to-video catalogue, such as the previous year’s Victims, Night Ripper is incredibly difficult to trace and is only available in its original VHS format.

  DR KRELLMAN (JOSÉ Elías Moreno) has learned that his teenage son’s (Agustín Martínez Solares) leukaemia is incurable. In a bid to save his life, the doctor transplants the heart of an ape into his son’s body, in scenes that depict actual open-heart surgery, which in their day would have been considered unusually graphic. When his son, who had once been so handsome, awakens he has been transformed into a rampaging man ape. Meanwhile, across the city a masked female wrestler is tussling in the ring, with her boyfriend cheering from the crowd. When she badly injures her opponent and leaves the girl in a coma, she begins to have doubts about her future as a wrestler. Her boyfriend works as a detective, and very soon he is on the trail of the psychopathic ape-man, who has escaped his father’s laboratory and gone into town to hunt down, strip and rape as many young ladies upon which he can lay his hairy mitts. As he tears into his victims, he rips the flesh from one man’s neck, gouges the eyeball of another and then decapitates his next victim in scenes where the blood is washed across the screen by the gallon. When the doctor finally catches up with his wayward son, he performs a second transplant, this time with a heart stolen from the body of the comatose wrestler. His son, however, appears more deranged than ever and it will be up to the police to bring him down in the climactic rooftop sequence, which won’t quite be the match of those tragic scenes atop the Empire State Building some fifty or so years before.

  Night of the Bloody Apes, which actually featured only one ape, was René Cardona’s remake of his B-movie Doctor of Doom (1962). For this venture, he looked to spice up his earlier production with an embarrassment of sex and cheap gore and then in the hope of capitalizing on the Santo phenomenon of the Mexican film industry, he introduced a wresting subplot, with plenty of girl-fight action. This was very loosely interwoven into his film, making for a bizarre hybrid that was originally entitled Horror y Sexo. As the film’s title suggests, Cardona was hiding absolutely nothing on its Mexican release. This was in many ways a masterpiece of the low-budget exploitation genre, unashamed in its graphic portrayal of violence, gratuitous nudity as well as fake gore, and to cap it all there was a familiarly amusing stream of ridiculous dialogue. With the exception of the grisly heart surgery footage, the effects were very cheap and the ape-man’s make-up resembled the kind of mask that would have been at home in rings of the lucha libre. For all of its failings, Cardona’s movie has engendered a huge following, which was multiplied when it became a surprise addition to the UK’s notorious list of video nasties in the November of 1983 following it being made available on video in the January of that year. It had previously seen extensive edits to the rape and murder of the woman in the bedroom along with close-up shots of a stabbing to ensure it had an “X”-rated cinematic release on these shores in 1974. In 1993, an uncut version of the film was mistakenly released by Vipco, but this was withdrawn within days, guaranteeing it to become an almost instantaneous collector’s item.

  INSPECTOR HARRIS PREPARES to interview a Professor Nugent, whose face has been bandaged to protect his unsightly mutilations. The traumatized academic is the only survivor of a vicious attack that has occurred deep in the forest. He explains how he became fascinated by reports of a series of grisly murders that seemed to have a connection with a number of Bigfoot sightings in the area. His story is related using a sequence of flashbacks, which tell of how he and a group of young anthropology students set out to lay bare the truth behind the legend. One of the group is determined to discover whether the beast was responsible for the recent death of her father. We learn that he was but one of the many victims, which the flashbacks go on to reveal include a couple of overgrown girl guides, a woodsman, a motorcyclist, a camper and a man who was making love in the back of his van. The locals eventually allude to a hermit by the name of Crazy Wanda (Melanie Graham) who may know more about the creature. Their trek further into the forest sees them lose their boat and then they come upon a backwoods’ ritual in honour of the beast. Soon after, the Bigfoot makes its presence known when it terrorizes one of the party, but on they go, certain that Crazy Wanda can unlock the secret to the beast’s existence. When they locate Crazy Wanda they do indeed learn the truth but, in a climactic bloodbath, none of the teenagers will ever make it home.

  Well, some of the teenagers would have made it to safety if James C. Wasson had had his way, but the distributors opted for a more downbeat finale. This would be the likeable Wasson’s only time in the director’s chair as his low-budget gorefest was banned upon entering the UK, Germany and Norway. The scene detailing a urinating motorcyclist having his penis torn off was just a little too much for the scrutiny of the censors in these countries. Such publicity would have duly given his film that key element of notoriety, which was exacerbated as reports of the ever-increasing body count began to spread. Unfortunately, Wasson’s budget was so limited it was to undermine his film, hindered further still by only passable acting and his inexperience revealing a novice who still had so much to learn. Michael Cutt, acting in his first feature film, had to supply his own weapons and never saw penny for his efforts.

  Although the gore wasn’t entirely realistic, it was there in abundance and the presence of the Bigfoot did make for a series of regular killings, which meant this film was anything but dull. The Bigfoot was admirably played by veteran stuntman Shane Dixon, whose display in certain shots was strangely terrifying. The editing has been the source of much criticism, but the cutaways, dissolves, along with the unsettling flashbacks, reveal there was a dedicated talent at work in this film, which climaxed in the claustrophobic finale that has invited comparisons in style to Romero’s Night of the Liv
ing Dead (1968). The plot would be re-hashed several years later in the obscure Bigfoot entry, Legend of Boggy Creek 2 (1985), which followed from its documentary-styled predecessor of 1972. When Night of the Demon was released to video in the UK in June 1982, fans of the film had little over a year to savour its bloodthirsty content before it was banned as a video nasty in October 1983, and there it stayed until the end of the so-called panic. When it was submitted for video release in 1994, a minute and forty-one seconds of cuts were demanded to the arm removal, the castration of the cyclist, the disembowelment and subsequent wounds and a man’s face being burned on a stove, before it was granted an official release. Regardless of the limitations in budget, Wasson’s film and its beautiful woodland backdrops continue to charm those who stumble across its path.

  BARBARA (JUDITH O’DEA) and her brother have gone to visit the grave of a family friend but as they walk through the cemetery, they become aware that they are being followed by a dishevelled figure, whom they at first believe is just wanting to pay respect to his departed loved ones. He is joined by more of his unkempt kind and it becomes increasingly obvious the brother and sister are in serious trouble. While Barbara manages to escape from the growing horde, her previously jocular brother is not so fortunate. Alone, she arrives at a rural house, where she meets the calming presence of Ben (Duane Jones). When they enter the house, they find a family hidden away in the basement, whose daughter is obviously in desperate need of a doctor. With the threat of this ravenous zombie plague spiralling out of control, they set to work boarding up the house in the hope of surviving the night. Occasional broadcasts reveal the extent of the situation. The whole of the US has been besieged by droves of flesh-eating zombies returned from the grave by the radiation emitted from a crashed space probe. The tension among those barricaded in the farmhouse now begins to mount. As the dead begin to descend on this claustrophobic refuge, the isolated survivors learn the zombies can be killed by a blow to the head. Will this knowledge give them the chance to survive or will their own bickering be the death of them?

  Inspired by Richard Matheson’s tale I am Legend written in 1954, George A. Romero scripted his landmark Night of the Living Dead, which was originally scheduled to see release as the more provocative Night of the Flesh Eaters. It was his very first feature film, and launched him into an incredible career that was to redefine the American horror movie industry and became the model for low-budget filmmakers. As with so many films of its ilk, his feature struggled to raise the necessary capital, which meant he could only afford black and white film stock. This actually enhanced the appeal in his film and made the scenes of murder and zombie cannibalism all the more effective. Unlike so much of its bloodthirsty offspring, Night of the Living Dead’s ingeniously ill-lit displays of flesh-eating appeared suggestive, leaving much to the viewer’s fetid imagination. When it was released to theatres, its explicit content soon gave considerable cause for concern, but not before the sight of emaciated aunts and uncles rising from their eternal slumber, and then engaging in scenes of gratuitous cannibalism, had been shown at a Saturday afternoon matinee premiere on October 1, 1968, at the Fulton Theatre in Pittsburgh. The youngsters in the theatre were shocked into silence, others reduced to tears; this downbeat portrayal wasn’t the kind of entertainment to which they had become accustomed and was a far cry from Abbot and Costello meet Frankenstein (1948). A month later, the voluntary MPAA film rating system was introduced, although it should be said this was not as a direct consequence of Romero’s endeavours. His film eventually did receive the acclaim it was due and was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry as a film acknowledged to be “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant”. Night of the Living Dead’s initial release in the UK in 1969 came with an “X” certificate and substantial edits to the trowel murder and the removal of all the scenes revelling in the devouring of human flesh. Eleven years later, it was seen in British cinemas as Romero had originally intended and since 1987 has been kept this way for its subsequent releases to video and DVD.

  Its significance in relation to the horror movies that emerged during the 1970s cannot be underestimated, for without Romero there may never have been cinema screens awash with shambling flesh-eating zombies. The apocalypse had never been so disturbing, and would continue to be so as a series of directors followed in his cataclysmic path. There are those who insist a considerable part of its legacy is derived from the presentation of a black actor in the lead role at a time when civil rights tensions across the United States were running high. The gunning down of unknown actor Duane Jones’ character Ben, after what was apparently the film’s climax, has continued to generate much debate, having been cited as a condemnation of American attitudes towards race. Romero has always insisted Jones was the best actor to audition for the part and it was never his intention to produce a feature with an underlying social commentary. The sequels would follow to complete what appeared to be a “dead trilogy” with the hugely influential Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Day of the Dead (1985). These were later succeeded by Land of the Dead (2005), Diary of the Dead (2007) and Survival of the Dead (2009). Night of the Living Dead has also gone through two remakes; the first in 1990 was directed by special-effects genius Tom Savini and the second was released in 3-D in 2006 but had no affiliation with Romero.

  THE CAMERA SETS the mood as the film opens, panning across the night of the Boston skyline. The scene switches to the Jack-n-Jill Day Care Center where the children are heading for home. One of the teachers, Anne Barron (Meb Boden), is waiting on a roundabout when a figure wearing leather motorcycle gear and a blacked-out helmet strides in her direction. A knife is drawn, an arm is raised before her body is slashed and then her head is hacked off; her discarded remains are later found in a back alley. Lieutenant Judd Austin (Leonard Mann) and his partner Detective Taj (Joseph R. Sicari) are promptly assigned to the case. This is the second reported decapitation in the space of a week, the first being found in a duck pond and Anne’s head being left in a bucket of water. Anne was also a night student, studying Anthropology at Wendell College, which leads Lieutenant Austin to question Professor Vincent Millett (Drew Snyder), who had been Anne’s tutor. He appears to have something of a reputation among his female students and we soon learn from one of Anne’s friends, Kim Morrison (Elizabeth Barnitz), that she was rather furtive about a particular liaison. Not long after, Kim’s decapitated head is found at the bottom of a fish tank. A waitress (Karen MacDonald) is revealed as the next victim. When the owner of the restaurant where she works arrives the following morning, he finds his eatery in utter chaos. As he tidies the tables and chairs, two builders arrive and ask for something to eat. He warms a large saucepan filled with stew and presents them with his culinary creation. As they tuck into their food, one of the builders finds a hair in his bowl. Another head would later surface in a toilet as the merciless butcher continued in his slaughter of the women of Wendell College, with Austin desperately trying to solve the case.

  Night School was filmed in Boston during the fall of 1980, with a small budget and tight production schedule, by Ken Hughes, the director of Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang (1968). These constraints were of little concern to Hughes, whose feature paid homage to the giallo while exhibiting so many traits of the incumbent slasher that had already begun to emerge. His film played out as a murder mystery and was not without its moments of humour, yet it was inspired by the legacy of Psycho (1960) and dared to include a rather tense shower scene. Cinematographer Mark Irwin’s working relationship with Hughes proved vital in creating the chill evident in so many of these set pieces. His bleak outlook would soon attract the attention of David Cronenberg and would lead to an invitation to add his touch to Scanners (1981) and then Videodrome (1983), before branching out into television, documentaries and substantially more in the way of film. While Night School has been criticized for employing a miscellany of styles, certain scenes raised the interest of Dario Argento, who used them to even greate
r effect in Tenebrae (1982). Hughes’ movie will also be remembered for the film debut of a young Rachel Ward, who was to return to the genre two years later in the backwoods slasher The Final Terror.

  The film was released in the United Kingdom as Terror Eyes and the unedited video was issued in February 1983. While the decapitations were carried out off screen, the film was still considered a video nasty, largely due to the blood-soaked scenes as the killer hacked through a white tiled room and the girl being threatened by a knife in the restaurant. In June 1985, the film was removed from the banned list when over a minute was cut from two offending scenes. It has, however, yet to see release to DVD.

  BLACKIE (FLAVIO BUCCI) and his drug-addicted accomplice Curly (Gianfranco De Grassi) are seen robbing a Santa Claus before embarking on a train travelling south from Germany to Verona. On board they meet a strange but alluring middle-class lady (Macha Méril). Two school friends, Laura (Marina Bertie) and Margaret (Irene Miracle), are also destined for Verona; there they intend to spend Christmas with Margaret’s family. When the girls are asked to leave their compartment and take a different train they find themselves trapped in a darkened cabin by the thuggish duo and the woman, who proves the most sadistic of the three. She coerces the girls into confessing to their sexual encounters and then encourages Curly to rape Laura, before the eyes of peeping tom. The virginal young girl is so tight the frustrated Curly forces a knife between the legs. When he hesitates, the strange woman inflicts the final deathblow. Margaret then manages to break free only to climb from the toilet window before throwing herself to her death.