Race With The Devil (1975)

I once wrote the single worst short story about a satanic cult ever. I know that (since you read and enjoy my weekly reviews) you can't possibly believe this, but it's true. This was back when I was still very young. It was called "Cultism: Closer Than You Think," and I even decorated the front cover with one of the worst renderings of a satanic cult member ever. Actually, he looked more like a member of the Klan, in retrospect, but that's neither here nor there. The story (in as much as it can be claimed it had one) involved me (did I mention this was written in First Person perspective?) stumbling upon a coven of Satanists in the midst of a blood sacrifice. After a short chase, I wound up spending the night up a tree (much like the plot), and the next morning, the cultists were gone. The end. I swear to you, loyal readers (all five of you), I have never seen this week's film before watching it for this review.

Roger, Frank, Alice, and Kelly (Peter Fonda, Warren Oates, Loretta Swit, and Lara Parker, respectively, and not to be confused with Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice), head out on an early-year vacation in Frank's brand-spanking-new, fully-loaded camper. After some dirt biking and grabassery, Roger and Frank get mildly toasted for the evening. Across the shallow river, fire erupts, and thinly-robed people begin to prance around. Taking a closer peek, the two horndogs think it's just some filthy hippies having a harmless orgy. But when the coven leader (in a very nice mask, by the way) unsheathes the sacrificial dagger and plunges it into an all-too-willing female member, the men suddenly realize they're in some deep crap (sound familiar?). Alice's big mouth (she was "Hot Lips" Houlihan, after all) alerts the cultists to the vacationers presence, and our hapless quartet find themselves, not really in a Race With The Devil, but definitely in a race away from his worshippers. 

The basic story premise for Jack Starrett's film goes all the way back to the pulp magazines of the early twentieth century. Stories about strange cults, the people (usually dames) who espy them doing their dirty business, and the two-fisted shamuses that busted them up (the cults, not the dames…well…) abounded. The Seventh Victim (produced by the legendary Val Lewton and directed by Mark Robson) also dealt with the subject of Satanism in a very personal, very disturbing manner. That it did so in 1943 is, to me, both intriguing and somehow more affecting. Of course, while the viewers of an illicit act are usually decent, normal citizens, the viewees almost always are not, and they are also not exclusively creepy religious zealots. Just look at Hitchcock's Rear Window, Stephen Hopkins's Judgment Night, or Malmuth's Hard To Kill. The act viewed doesn't even need to be criminal in nature, and Park Chan-wook's Oldboy bears this out. Suffice it to say, the basics are a well-trodden path, and like all types, it's what you do with them that counts. Starrett, a very workmanlike but solid director of exploitation fare (as well as being an actor), doesn't go the way one would necessarily expect with the film, and crafts a mostly successful effort. But there are a few bumps in the road, to be sure.

The film is centered on (in fact, is predicated on) the notion of The Gaze, what's seen or not and by whom (audience included). Frank and Roger witness something they weren't supposed to witness, and the chase is on. As the couples are haunted and harried by the cult, we rarely see any overt actions against them onscreen. In essence, this amplifies the tension and suspense, because like a poltergeist or a monster in the closet, we don't know when something is going to pop up to threaten the protagonists. It's not until the third act that the cultists act in a more public fashion to reach their ends. This is also the weakest point in the film from a Horror point of view (even though half the reason for making and watching the movie is to see cars smash into things as well as each other). 

But it's a different facet of how The Gaze can be utilized where I think Starrett and company played their hand very well. Using the Kuleshov Effect (consciously or unconsciously, but I suspect the former, even if they didn't know what it was called), they give us montages of different people everywhere our heroes go juxtaposed against the reactions of the principals (particularly of Kelly), with the reaction shots informing our interpretation of the incessant menace the four find themselves poised against. The shots of the people outside the camper seldom convey any open emotion or intent. That the protagonists feel threatened by nothing (or at least by what a rational person not being hounded by Satanists would consider nothing) plays into the building of tension and adds to the film's edginess. I found it rather odd, then, that no one in the camper ever objected to allowing strangers at gas stations to work on the camper or insisted on double-checking their work afterwards. Perhaps that's part of the plan to get the viewer to shout at the screen and work up some adrenaline. If so, then mission accomplished.

As a Chase film, the film falters a hair. By this point in time, Fonda had done Dirty Mary Crazy Larry as well as Easy Rider and was no stranger to the Road/Chase movie subgenre. Oates, though not as indelibly identified with this type of film, had done what many consider to be one of the best exemplars of it a few years earlier with Two-Lane Blacktop. Plus, he was already very much an icon of badass cinema from his work with Sam Peckinpah in The Wild Bunch and Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia. One would think that just having these two occupying a vehicle while being pursued by hostile forces would be enough, and maybe had they handled the material differently, it would have. However, in the struggle to serve two masters (both Horror and Chase subgenres), the filmmakers shortchange the latter. Rather than have our heroes constantly on the move, pedal to the metal, hellbent for leather, Starrett instead has the chase paced more leisurely. Consequently, the terror and paranoia angle and the escape angle are at odds throughout the runtime. They never occupy the same space or really tie themselves together completely. The car stunts, when they do come, are handled very well and shot effectively, but there seemed to me to be a bit too much downtime (and a mild air of non-concern from the protagonists) that deflates some of the uneasiness. It's not enough to ruin the film, and there is certainly enough here to satisfy almost anyone. However, as the film crosses the finish line, Race With The Devil feels more like a sprint than a marathon. 
 
MVT: How in the world can I not have Warren Oates as the MVT? The man could say more with that cynical smirk of his or his withering glare than any ten actors could say with three pages of dialogue apiece. 

Make Or Break: Everyone who watches this film is watching it to see the Satanic ritual scene (and, by extension, the action springing from it), and I admit I am one of them. Not as garish as it could have been, it sets a realistic tone that the film embraces right up until the closing frames.

Score: 7/10

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Dolly Dearest (1992)

Since the Gentlemen reviewed “Magic” this week, I decided to get in on the doll craze. I chose a film farther from “Magic” and closer to “Child’s Play”. You could say this is almost a knock-off. It’s a film that a few other blogs have reviewed already (such as “Deadly Dollhouse” and “Chuck Norris Ate My Baby”). That being “Dolly Dearest”. What new can I add to the mix? I’ve got a vagina joke!

Okay, it’s not that good of a vagina joke. It’s just that, when one of the workers died, he ripped open his shirt before collapsing for no apparent reason. The only chest hair he had was above his pecs and was in the shape of a vagina. Not much of a joke, more of a keen (and perverted) observation.

Now that my pathetic excuse for humor is out of the way, let’s get to the film. Elliot Wade (Sam Bottoms a.k.a. Steve Guttenberg‘s lost brother) moves his family to Mexico to work at a doll factory. This factory looks more like a crack house, which is probably where the writers came up with this story. The line of dolls he operates are “Dolly Dearest”, which I’m guessing are supposed to resemble Hilary Swank.



His daughter, Jessica (Candy Huston), becomes attached to one that just so happens to be possessed by a demon. How did the demon possess the doll, you ask? Archeologist Karl Resnick (Rip Torn) accidentally unleashed the leader of a satanic cult. Oh, and her minions were released too, as all of the dolls are possessed.

Jessica’s behavior becomes erratic and worries her mother, Marilyn (Denise Crosby). Elliot just thinks she’s paranoid because he’s an idiot who can’t notice the signs that are right in front of him. In one scene, Jessica tells her mother, in a demonic voice, that she’ll kill her if she takes away Dolly. Elliot is right outside of the door when this happens, but brushes it off. Before anybody says he couldn’t have heard her, his son, Jimmy (Chris Demetral), heard it and he was right in front of his father.



Speaking of the demonic voices, they can be hilariously off-putting. When speaking, Dolly sounds like a record player that’s on slow. The voice doesn’t match the face, causing fits of hysteria. When all of them are running around and giggling, they cackle like Gremlins. It’s also hard to tell whether all of the demons are female or if any of them are, for that matter. It does add to the mystique though.

As for the doll animatronics, they’re really good for such a low budget film. They move around nicely and all of the facial movements are done well. They can be a bit shaky at times, but they get the job done. I did get a laugh when Dolly rolled her eyes at the bumbling factory worker. Oh, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the strange and random tongue wiggling one of the doll heads did.



“Dolly Dearest” is plagued with a lot of problems. It drags in spots, borrows too heavily from films such as “Child’s Play” and can be unintentionally hilarious at times. It does have it’s upsides, though. The performances are fine (except for Rip Torn, who must’ve been paying off a debt), the animatronics are good and the look of the doll is simple and effective. The film can get pretty boring at times, but it’s good for background fodder that you can occasionally peek up at and enjoy.

MVT: Definitely the doll. The simple look works and can instill fear, especially if you don’t like dolls. The animatronics help in making it chilling.

Make or Break: The first time we see the doll move. I was expecting cheap animatronics, which would have ruined the film. It may have been funny to watch, but painful to sit through after awhile.

Final Score: 5.5/10

Werewolves On Wheels (1971)

There are ideas which, on their face, seem incredibly cool and intriguing. Extraterrestrials visited ancient humanity, inspiring a polytheistic religion as well as architectural accomplishments. Dracula fires a vampire army at the Earth from his sanctuary on the dark side of the moon. A man has to cut off his demon-possessed hand and, in its place, rigs a chainsaw. Satan is a swirling, green liquid that sits in the basement of an old church. There exist points in space which contain infinity and, when peered into, the viewer can clearly discern everything in the entirety of the universe at the same time and be able to comprehend it. Whether they just get your geek motor revving or launch your mind down a thousand theoretical avenues, the sheer imagination involved in concepts like those above is the reason imagination was invented in the first place. 

This brings us to today's movie, Werewolves On Wheels. The idea of a werewolf motorcycle gang should set just about any genre/exploitation fan to salivating. Unfortunately (and all too typically when it comes to films of this sort), the actuality does not equal the hype. But this is still a movie that has something to offer film fans, if they're willing to change their expectations a bit.

The Devil's Advocates motorcycle gang like to cruise around, get into fights, get high, and cruise around (that's not a typo). Mystically connected member, Tarot (Duece Berry), likes to read the cards for other members, even though leader, Adam (Stephen Oliver), gives him crap about it. When Tarot reads Helen's (D.J. Anderson) future, he foretells a fate intertwined with the Devil. The gang visit a mountain monastery populated with satanic monks. The monks drug the bikers and the abbot, One (Severn Darden), performs a ceremony transforming Helen into the Bride of Satan. After the gang comes to, beat up the monks, and rescue Helen, they take off for the desert but become lost. During a makeout session shortly thereafter, Helen bites Adam. Soon, bikers start getting knocked off by someone with very hairy hands.

For those expecting a slam-bang lycanthrope flick, look elsewhere. There are werewolves here, and there is some blood and gore on display. Nevertheless, the film is not centered on werewolves as monsters, per se. Rather, the majority of the film is focused on the gang's search for themselves, even though they say that they reject any concept of spirituality. This is shown in the many, many montage sequences of the bikers riding down roads, usually accompanied by either the driving, catchy Don Gere score or by elegiac folk/country songs. The further the group travels, the more lost they become, until they are literally lost in the desert at one point. Since their world view is generally nihilistic, they are incapable of gaining any positive spiritual enlightenment and in fact, are made easier targets for Satan and his machinations (if the Prince of Darkness actually has any in play here to begin with). 

The Devil's Advocates don't seem to truck with any religion really, probably because the whole idea of obedience and organization in general would be antithetical to their individualistic ethos. The only organized religion the bikers encounter is that of the satanic monks, and then the only reason they seek the monks out is to make fun of them. The monks, in turn, drug the gang with wine and bread, here a play on the Catholic sacrament of Communion. Later, the monks will again use the bread and blood motif (though this time with "real" cat's blood) in their transformation of Helen into the Devil's betrothed. Helen then dances (and it must be stated here, Ms. Anderson's not much of a rug-cutter) with a python and skull in a symbolic consummation with Satan. This scene is shot with moody lighting, heavy shadows, and is edited together using dissolves, imbuing the goings-on with an eerie quality that overlaps and (seemingly) compresses time.

The acting is passable for the most part. No one flubs their lines, and the bikers all act like outlaws. They fight and bite their enemies (putting paid to the film's title, figuratively if not factually) with abandon. What I found most interesting in this aspect is that the dialogue which feels most authentic and is delivered most naturalistically are the lines that have nothing to do with the diegetic story. It's all bon mots, idioms, and ballbusting, evidently improvised by the actors. These bits create a strong sense of kinship between the gang members and consequently draw us into their world. While Anderson has not much to do in the story other than strip, strut, and curse Adam's soul, Oliver and Berry dig into their roles as agnostic and believer, respectively. Both do an adequate job limning the opposing forces that drive the film.

The cinematography is well-done throughout, and there are some nice locales/setpieces utilized. A barren, desert road is swathed in an uncanny fog. The desert itself is shot from afar, showcasing its expansive desolation, threatening to swallow the gang whole. The bikers' riding scenes are shot usually from either right in front of or alongside the riders or from a low angle, capturing the power of the motorcycles in tandem with the heat shimmering off the blacktop. Mellow, fluid shots of birds, either in flocks or solo, create a metaphor for the bikers' freedom. They can come and go as they please and soar along the highways, but eventually, they must come back down. The birds also make a predator/prey connection to the gang. Which are they, and can this dynamic change at any time?

The werewolves and the killings are handled mostly in shadow. Like with the monks' rituals, this makes the fantastical scenes more effective. There is also an abundance of slow motion employed here, and unlike with the "wedding" scene, here the device is used to expand filmic time. The horror is dwelt on at length, increasing our uneasiness. The slow motion also helps build some tension at the film's climax when the bikers react to the lycanthropic revelation. The actual makeup effects are decent. They're hardly Oscar-worthy, but I've certainly seen far worse.

I have to say (and thanks to Aaron for suggesting I review this film), I was pleasantly surprised by Werewolves On Wheels. I went into this with low expectations. Everything I have ever read about the film has been fairly negative. However, when you look a bit deeper than the surface, exploitation level, there is something else going on in this movie. Its message may be a tad muddy, weighed down with the psychedelic trappings of the day and New-Age, mystical gobbledygook, but it does give one something more to think about. At least, it did for me. 

MVT: Director Michel Levesque and co-writer David M. Kaufman's screenplay is deeper than first glance would suggest. And while there is considerable padding in the film, the story's themes support it rather than treating it like excess baggage to reach feature length.

Make or Break: The opening bike run sets the tone for the movie and introduces us to the land of the outlaw biker. If this scene intrigues you, you'll probably find something to like in the rest of the film.

Score: 6.5/10