Showing posts with label jim o'connolly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jim o'connolly. Show all posts

Saturday, November 7, 2015

In short: Tower of Evil (1972)

aka Horror on Snape Island

To make matters shorter than the film does, a bunch of naked teenagers is slaughtered on a light house/island studio set. The only survivor (because she’s only into oral sex, and I’m not even kidding) loses it and nakedly stabs a rescuing fisherman, therefore proving to the police she was the killer. Fortunately for her, she falls into a catatonic state and spends the rest of her scenes being hypnotised by a psychiatrist, leading to the expected home-made psychedelia flashbacks that are the obvious highlights of the film.

All the while, an expedition of some – and I quote, unconvinced – “experienced archaeologists” (names and actors are pretty unimportant) makes its way to the island, for one of the teenagers was stabbed to death with a Phoenician spear that suggests to the archaeologists the island must harbour the hoard of a Phoenician chieftain. Which indeed it does, as well as the guy who actually killed the teenagers, and who, after good slasher manner, will slaughter the new, joint-smoking, wine-swilling, and sex-having non-teenagers, too. Hooray.

On one hand, Tower of Evil is quite the interesting film as a clearly giallo-influenced proto-slasher with all the love for sleaze (though not the propensity for gore) of a third generation slasher, showing off the bizarre yet fascinating fashion (sometimes I wish people actually dressed this way) and unpleasant characters of the former genre, and the “kill all people who have sex and/or drugs” tendencies of the latter one, as well as copying the often dubious plotting of the latter.

Unfortunately, Jim O’Connolly’s resulting film just isn’t very good. Sure, there are a lot of nude bodies if you’re into that, but if you’re hoping for some of the style of the Italian genre cinema this is built on, or clever or even just aesthetically interesting use of the sleaze and the violence, you’re really watching the wrong film. O’Connolly’s direction may not be inept, exactly, but more often than not, it’s pedestrian and boring, leaving the audience little to do than to watch these rather unpleasant people be unpleasant and later get offed. This turns out to be neither very entertaining nor captivating, even though there are one or two moments I found vaguely amusing. Extramarital sex is better than masturbation you say? “Zip me?”.

Things are made even less interesting by to the bone-headed decision to first spend half an hour plus on the teenagers and then do the same plot, just with more set-up, again with the “archaeologists” (who carry more grass and wine than any actual archaeological equipment, and dress like people from a bizarro fashion magazine), instead of somehow just fusing the two strands and actually getting on with the business of killing people and getting them naked (not always in this order).

As it stands, I can only recommend Tower of Evil as a historic curiosity that badly aped a particular sub-genre and sort of arrived at prefiguring the worst bits of a different related sub-genre, because as a movie, it’s just slow, mucky, and sleazy in a way that’s neither fun nor oppressive enough to be of much interest.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

In short: The Valley of Gwangi (1969)

Sometimes, it's not as easy to love the films built around the stop motion effects glories of Ray Harryhausen as I would wish for.

Case in point is The Valley of Gwangi that embodies the general weaknesses of the Charles Schneer productions (I have the impression the director of a given film didn't have much of a say in anything here, so I'll pretend Jim O'Connolly didn't exist, something his direction makes easy enough) made to showcase Harryhausen's special effects particularly well without always having the charm to make up for it. Hint: these weaknesses are mostly caused by the films' stories being built around the effects, not the effects built for the story, a problem that's much less visible in the mythological fantasy pieces of Schneer/Harryhausen which actually lends themselves to such an approach.

Gwangi's main problem is that it starts out by presenting the audience with truly atrocious human drama, featuring chauvinist pig and all-around asshole James Franciscus, racist stereotype and liar Gustavo Rojo, paternalistic douche Richard Carlson, amoral scientist Laurence Naismith, not as interesting as one would wish her to be Gila Golan and a "Mexican" boy without self-preservation instincts. These horrible personages go through various plot contortions that will some day lead them into the titular valley of Gwangi where they will kidnap a helpless Tyrannosaur for fame and money.

Obviously, it takes way too much time until the film gets to the good stuff, especially when you keep in mind how badly developed and vile the characters are, how random each of their decisions and how jumpy their emotions (why, you could think they feel exactly like the plot needs them to feel at any given moment). These are people in whose presence one wants to spend as little time as possible, particularly when one could watch cowboys fight dinosaurs and hope the main characters get eaten. I don't think I even have to mention the painful romance plot between Franciscus and Golan and the cheap moralizing, nor that I'd rather like to see a sequel to the film that tells me how many years in jail the protagonists spend afterwards (of course, it's not the protagonists' fault the T-Rex goes on the mandatory rampage at the film's finale, it's the evil brown peoples' fault; you can't help but be embarrassed by this crap).

This combination of bad, bad, horrible romance, racism, and boring yet vile characters is so strong in Valley of Gwangi's case even the beautiful and numerous dinosaurs of the film's second half make it difficult to overlook these flaws. Which is what happens when there's more flaw than film, really, and when a film about cowboys fighting dinosaurs rather wastes its time trying to convince the audience that James Franciscus is a charming rogue.