Ruggero Deodato’s Genre Experiments - Guest Post from Robert Monell

I’m very happy to feature a guest article from one of my favourite genre writers and closest friends, Robert Monell. To quote from Alex Bakshaev’s recent interview with Robert at the highly recommended blog http://trashfilmaddict.blogspot.com.au: “Robert Monell has been writing and making short films and videos since 1971. He is the creator and webmaster of Cinemadrome - a website which covers all aspects of cinema and I'm in a Jess Franco State of Mind, number one English-language web resource on the cinema of Jess Franco. His articles and essays have been published in UK and Italian books, such as Il Caso Jesús Franco edited by Francesco Cesari.”

Robert takes a look at the notorious Ruggero Deodato’s lesser-discussed films, Waves of Lust and Raiders of Atlantas.

Ruggero Deodato’s Genre Experiments...

By Robert Monell

Ruggero Deodato’s film career began long before the legendary, still controversial Cannibal Holocaust (1980) was released, but that title is undoubtedly the one with which his name is most associated and will be the one for which he is forever remembered. And it wasn’t even his first foray into cannibal terror. That honor would go to Ultimo Mondo Cannibale; Mondo Cannibale 2. Teil-Der Vogelmensch (1977), a violent Italian adventure film in a which petroleum engineer (Massimo Foschi) and an anthropologist (Ivan Rassimov) become trapped in a Mindanao jungle after a plane crash and fall victims to… you guessed it.

Deodato began in cinema as an assistant to the great Neo-Realist filmmaker Roberto Rossellini (General Della Rovere, Anima Nera) from whom he developed an interest in anthropological realism. He also was an assistant to such busy Italian genre craftsman as Antonio Margheriti (Castle of Blood), Sergio Corbucci (Django, on which he directed some action exteriors in Spain), Riccardo Freda (Romeo And Giulietta), among others. By the time he directed his first films (Hercules, Prisoner of Evil, Phenomenal and the Treasure Of Tutankamen), he had years of practical experience with world class filmmakers behind him. But it would take him at least another decade of work directing commercials and low budget features to become the director capable of making Cannibal Holocaust, a film which outraged the world, became the first major “found footage” horror movie and caused the director, as Sergio Leone predicted when Deodato screened the film for him, a world of legal trouble. Filmed in the jungles of Venezuela and Columbia at a very low cost, with no union or animal cruelty laws in place, it is a landmark in the Cinema of Cruelty, real as well as acted-out cruelty, and along with Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1975 Salo… it remains one of the most controversial Italian films ever made. Humanity beyond the boundaries of control trapped in savage corners of the world, the slaughter of animals, bloodlust and the ruthlessness of the “news” media, embodied by a brutal “documentary” film crew, were the themes. The film asked the question: Who are the real cannibals? Deodato had made a previous cannibal film, there was Umberto Lenzi’s The Man from Deep River (1972) and the later ultra-violent Cannibal Ferox, but the director never dug quite as deep as he did with Cannibal Holocaust, although in some ways his other 1980 gorefest, The House on the Edge of the Park, is equally disturbing. Animal cruelty has always been an issue in movies, from trip-wiring horses in old Hollywood Westerns, to The Mad Doctor of Blood Island to certain Italian Mondo titles. Given that every meat eating human in the world indirectly partakes in animal slaughter by consuming the end-product, as the director often points out in interviews, and the fact that the Cannibal Holocaust inspired The Green Inferno opens in US theaters soon, Deodato must have hit upon a resonant theme which has haunted civilized and not-so-civilized societies throughout the ages and continues to be an uncomfortable topic in the 21st Century.

Which brings us to the 1975 Erotic Thriller, Ondata di Piacere aka Waves of Lust, from a story co-written by Lamberto Bava and Gianlorenzo Battaglia. Filmed on Sicilian land and sea locations most of the action takes place on a luxury yacht and the cast is limited to four very deceptive characters. Waves of Lust will remind some viewers of Roman Polanski’s feature debut, Knife in the Water (1962) and, perhaps, the 1989 Australian film, Dead Calm, featuring Nicole Kidman and Sam Neill, the latter based on a Charles Williams novel which Orson Welles attempted to film. Waves… is not as subtle as the former and much more downscale than the latter, but it is perhaps the film with which Deodato formally announces his favored themes and unrelenting style.

Irem (Al Cliver) and Barbara(Silvia Dionisio) are a young couple vacationing on the island. They seem carefree and enjoy playing practical jokes, such as the one which opens the film and involves Irem standing on his head to view the action. Actually this upside-down image clues the viewer into both the character's true motivations and the film’s theme that everything is not what it seems when one turns the world on its head. The role playing begins for real when they encounter an older couple, George (John Steiner), a ruthless, sadistic factory owner and his much-abused wife, Silvia (Elizabeth Turner). George enjoys humiliating and beating Silvia both in public and in private. Curiously, Silva seems to enjoy and even encourage this behavior. But all is not what it seems in this toxic relationship. George is a thoroughly arrogant monster who feels entitled and sneers at the world and everyone in it. He brags about driving a business colleague to suicide and plans to screw over his entire factory work force when he returns from vacation. He’s a vicious predator in the business and sexual realms and has his sights set on Barbara. He plans to seduce her while putting Irem in his place as his new sailor on board, ordering him around while making no attempts to hide his groping of Barbara. It all seems OK to Irem, who is laid back and content to watch the mind games unfold. As things get more sexual, violence rears its ugly head. Silvia and George will meet their unsurprising fates, resulting with the yacht ending up with a new captain and mate.

There’s a definite socio-political subtext here as the working class Irem and Barbara seduce and triumph over the owning class George, whose motto is, “I detest the working class.” There’s also an undercurrent of dark humor as George never suspects just how tricky his invited weekend “guests” really are. The slowly cooking plot is a trap which is only sprung at the very end and Deodato keeps up the suspense while serving up some erotic sidebars as the four characters move toward the final showdown. There’s also a bit of Diabolique (1955) in the characters and plotting. As with Cannibal Holocaust it all ends with a question: Who are the villains and who are the victims in this twisted scenario?

The final shot really sums up the film’s theme as the survivors sail off while Marcello Giombini’s typically eccentric score rings off on an ironically upbeat note. John Steiner is always effective as a multi-faceted villain in such films as Tenebre, Deported Women of the SS Special Section, Fulci’s White Fang and numerous other Italian genre titles. He pretty much dominates the action here but Cliver and Silvia Dionisio are well cast as the seemingly air-headed young couple and Elizabeth Turner really looks the part of the eternally abused woman. As a game-of-deadly-consequences erotic thriller Waves of Lust gets the job done with considerable craft and skill and underlines Deodato’s flexibility as an all purpose genre director. Deodato would return to themes of social class, sex and violence in the much more powerful The House on the Edge of the Park (1980) and the woefully underappreciated The Washing Machine (1993).

Deodato’s flexibility is aptly demonstrated in the post Cannibal Holocaust, Post-Apocalyptic, science-fiction adventure I Predatori di Atlantide/The Raiders of Atlantis/Atlantis Interceptors, a 1983 cut-rate epic shot in the Philippines with a rather amazing cast of European Trash Cinema icons. I first viewed this as a VHS rental in the 1990s and immediately copied it and have been returning to it whenever I need a break from normal reality. As Phenomenal and the Treasure of Tutankamen demonstrated, Deodato is not really cut out for directing this kind of breezy fantasy, but he gives it his best nonetheless.

Filmed in Asia, with Special Effects Make-up by “Gene Reds” [the great Giannetto De Rossi] and a disco themed score by The Oliver Onions, this film is a Le Bad Cinema Hoot. This film is actually another Mad Max rip-off, Italian style. The Post-Apocalypse is set in 1994 Miami, Florida where our antiheroes Mike (Christopher Connelly) and Washington (Tony King) are introduced working as mercenaries on a secret mission for a shadowy businessman. But then Atlantis suddenly arises when they end up on an oil rig where a scientific team is attempting to float a downed Soviet nuclear sub. The mission fails, releasing radiation which allows Atlantis, represented by a kid’s bathtub model, to arise and the army of the murderous Crystal Skull to terrorize the world. It’s all actually an excuse to show a weirdly attired biker gang as they rape, pillage and murder everyone in sight on the tropical locations.

The goofy, disco-styled song “Black Inferno”, by Guido and Maurizio De Angelis aka Oliver Onions, really rules here as such Eurotrash icons as Connelly (Manhatten Baby, 1990: Bronx Warriors) Tony King (Cannibal Apocalypse), George Hilton (The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh), Ivan Rassimov (Man from Deep River) Michele Soavi (Cemetary Man, Stagefright), Mike Monty (Zombi 3),  and Deodato himself as an  oil rig official, manage to hold our attention. Well, almost. Bruce Baron is the ridiculous Crystal Skull and listen up to hear Nick Alexander voicing Ivan Rassimov, along with such familiar voice actors Pat Starke, Susan Spafford, Frank Von Kuegelgen and many others. And where else can you see 1970s giallo icon George Hilton getting his head blown off by future iconic Italian horror director Michele Soavi?

According to a George Hilton interview, which appeared in an Italian zine several years ago, the late Christopher Connelly (1941-1988) was suffering from acute anxiety attacks during the rugged shoot and had a near nervous breakdown during the filming of a long siege sequence. All told, The Raiders of Atlantas isn’t really good on any level, but achieves a consistent level of mayhem probably acceptable to the sub-Mad Max crowd while allowing the talented Deodato a way to work off steam while searching for a more suitable project. That more suitable project would end up being the Hungarian lensed The Washing Machine, a dank, dark and dirty giallo which takes no prisoners with its toxic aura of post Iron Curtain dread and sexual malaise. Will someone please release an all region HD upgrade of this?

© Robert Monell, 2015

Mike Patton: Music’s Unsung Renaissance Man

August 1990, Melbourne, Australia: It was a typical Saturday morning, where one of my first actions upon waking up was switch on the TV to watch ‘Video Hits’ (a music show similar to MTV). However this particular morning was different. Amongst the usual generic pop hits was a song, accompanied by an equally standout video clip, that would become an important part of my life to this day. An artificial rainstorm thundered around a colourfully-attired band performing amongst the chaos of the ‘storm’ and vivid surreal imagery on a flooded soundstage. The music was a stunningly unique combination of alternative metal and lyrics sung in a style alternating between rap and melodic. The powerhouse drumming of Mike Bordin; Billy Gould’s signature deep bass rhythms; graceful, soaring keyboards and classical piano care of Roddy Bottum, guitarist Jim Martin’s killer riffs and indeed ‘epic’ solos; and last but most certainly not least the inimitable vocal stylings of the lead singer, Mike Patton. The song was called ‘Epic’ and the band Faith No More. ‘Epic’ would be the band’s breakthrough hit, rapidly climbing to the top of the charts in Australia and reaching a respectable number 9 in North America.

Little-known within his home country apart from his contribution to ‘Epic’, San Francisco native Mike Patton is arguably one of the most talented, innovate and creative artists of his generation. Also a multi-instrumentalist, producer, songwriter, composer, actor and record label co-owner, Patton is often vastly and unfairly underrated due to being judged as a ‘one-hit wonder’, “that guy who sung ‘Epic’”. Not that that bothers him at all, being sharp and cynical enough from the beginning of his career to avoid the pitfalls of fame. Patton has chosen to follow his own path, living his dream of being able to perform and produce the music he wants to rather than being moulded into a corporate puppet. An accomplished vocalist of the highest tier, Patton’s mind-blowingly versatile repertoire consists of intense screams, soulful crooning, falsetto, rapping, death growls and opera, amongst many other techniques. Vintage Vinyl News website noted Patton’s 6 octave, 1/2 note range (Eb1 to E7), declaring him “the greatest singer of all time”. So who exactly is this – often misunderstood -  ‘Man of 1000 Voices’, once described as “one of the most enigmatic and unpredictable personalities in rock music”? (Drever 2003). And what drives him to continually build his wildly experimental, prolific and intimidating discography?

Born in Eureka, California on 27 January 1968 to a high-school PE teacher father and social worker mother, Michael Allan Patton was raised in a considerably isolated environment. His childhood home was in the midst of a forest 20 minutes away from Eureka, with no nearby neighbours.  What is exceptionally remarkable about Patton’s phenomenal talent is that he never received any formal musical training growing up, save high school music lessons. “From a young age I was definitely imitating birds, but I didn’t know it at the time. This is what my parents tell me. Once I started making these weird sounds with my voice, they gave me this little flexi-disc of mouth sounds, like guys that could make odd sounds. I don’t know why they gave it to me, but that was one of my favorite records. It all comes from what I’ve discovered and the things I’ve been able to try. Play with a saxophone player and a drummer, see what happens. I’m not a studied, learned, academic musician.” (Simonini 2013).

A rabid music fan from a young age, Patton formed the band Mr Bungle in 1984 with some Eureka High School classmates. Initially beginning as a death metal act, Mr Bungle were to later diversify their sound, branching out into genres from everything to ska to jazz to techno  - often in the course of a single track. 

Patton further whetted his musical appetite by frequently helping himself to records from the music store where he worked part-time (as revenge to his underpaying boss), and driving 200 miles to San Francisco on school nights to see a myriad of alternative and metal shows (Godley 1990). Patton become a familiar face at local act Faith No More’s regular gigs; soon becoming notorious for loudly blasting demo tapes of Mr Bungle within earshot of everyone and anyone. This soon caught the attention of FNM guitarist Jim Martin. “He’d heard a death metal demo of Mr Bungle and assumed Mike was some big, fat, bearded guy who drunk Guinness and whiskey 24 hours a day. Needless to say, he was quite surprised to find an all-out, clean-living, untainted American boy.” (Morris 1995). Martin played the tape to other band members (who were fed up with then-lead singer Chuck Mosley’s drug-induced erratic behaviour; the last straw being Mosley falling asleep on stage during the release party for their 1987 album ‘Introduce Yourself’). Impressed by the precocious metal growls of the still-teenaged Patton, the band soon fired Mosley, replacing him in January 1989 with the energetic, vocally-superior Patton, who abandoned his English studies at Humboldt State University for the golden opportunity to up his status as Faith No More supergroupie to lead singer. Designated the task of writing the lyrics for the band’s upcoming album The Real Thing, Patton completed this in a mere two weeks. The Real Thing was to become Faith No More’s breakthrough album upon its release in mid-1989, thanks to the worldwide success of its single ‘Epic’. An unforgettably unique, yet ‘mainstream’ and catchy enough for the masses, masterpiece of alternative metal, the equally striking music video received frequent airplay on MTV.

Embarking on a gruelling 18-month long world tour with the band, it was the first time the young musician had moved out of home or travelled outside of the country. It should be noted that Patton coped remarkably well with his whirlwind success, considering he was of a completely non-showbiz connected family and had no previous media coaching. His heightened level of cynicism and extreme disdain for the banalities of mainstream popular culture kept him away from becoming entangled in the heady rock star world of sex, drugs and the usual overindulgences that often tempt newly-minted stars. Remarked Billy Gould in 1995, “I have to say I didn’t like Mike the first couple of years he was in the band, I thought some of the things he did were pretty immature. But he’s done really well. When he joined the band he was a fucking brat, an arrogant little baby, a child. He looked awful but he was the only guy we tried that really worked, but he had to take a fucking lot on. Here was this unsophisticated kid who’d never sipped alcohol before, never been in a bar, and we were all these crusty fucking guys. I felt pretty responsible for bringing this nice happy kid into this band, but he sang well.” (Morris 1995).Though some of his coping mechanisms were unorthodox – his most notorious being a series of gross-out ‘pranks’ such as pissing in his own boot then drinking the contents on stage, allegedly defecating in an orange juice carton, sealing it and returning it to Axl Rose’s tour bus vending machine, pouring a bottle of urine over his head during a South American show, stunning the audience into shocked silence,  and at a particularly raucous concert in Chile, encouraging the crowd to spit on him and to try and aim at his mouth – the obliging masses enthusiastically creating a wave of phlegm that went crashing on Patton. Then there was the ‘mythical’ Video Macumba compilation tape he edited together on the road – inspired by shockumentaries, Patton cobbled together a series of gruesome clips including coprophagia, BDSM, disgraced politician R. Budd Dwyer's on-camera suicide as well as footage from various Italian Mondo movies. Only two other copies were produced apart from the master tape – one for Sepultura’s founding singer Max Cavalera and another for João Gordo of Ratos de Porão, both whom Patton had become friends with during FMN’s Brazilian leg of their world tour. Inevitably dupes leaked out, becoming highly coveted bootleg items. “Mike had embarked on a frenzied expedition, wanting to experience as many extremes as he could, as quickly as possible, in his own inimitable style. His low-rent, unpredictable antics, shit terrorism and seedy obsessions with sado-masochism to narcissistic pornography, soon became infamous, if not eventually all too predictable.” (Morris 1995).

Though this may not be considered the most mature and dignified way of ‘letting off steam’ from the pressures of unexpected stardom, these extreme pranks were Patton’s adrenaline rush in place of the traditional sex and drugs route which he loathed to be pigeonholed in. The unexpected success of Faith No More enabled Patton to secure a record deal with Warner Brothers with his other band, Mr Bungle, releasing their debut album of the same name in 1991.

Faith No More’s image and sound drastically changed for the follow-up to The Real Thing, 1992’s Angel Dust. Gone were the bright colours of The Real Thing era, making way for an overall more grungier look and far more expansive sound, even venturing into offbeat Tom Waits territory at one point. Including Patton, whose image overhaul included cutting his long locks and trading in the spandex bike shorts, hi-top sneakers and lurid T-shirts for air force jackets, combat boots and dark jeans. His most other notable change was vocally – he incorporated a wider, more impressive range of vocal techniques, branching out from his nasal (but still outstanding) vocals of The Real Thing. This transformation was not received well in America, where hair metal was still very popular and there was a general expectation for the band to continue with the old sound and image. As well as for Patton to play up to his ‘teen hunk’ good looks, which was NOT going to happen. The rest of the band also refused to become corporate-approved crowd pleasers, happily preferring to remain outsiders on the U.S. hard rock circuit. During their tour supporting Guns N’ Roses, Patton remarked “Our job is just to be ourselves and not to suck corporate dick. But I’m looking forward to playing the smaller venues on our own tour after this. I just can’t imagine this band becoming as big as Metallica. I don’t think I’d enjoy it.” (Watts 1992, p.51).

Although Angel Dust achieved gold status in the States, it was still considered a commercial failure there, especially as all of its singles failed to chart on the Billboard Top 100 singles charts (with the exception of the radio-friendly Commodores cover ‘Easy’, which scraped in at 58). However, Angel Dust went on to become Faith No More's best-selling album outside the United States, selling an estimated 3 million copies and the band and Patton accumulating huge fanbases in Australia, South America and all around Europe.

In late 1994, Patton surprised everybody by marrying his Italian girlfriend of two years, artist and interior designer Cristina Zuccatosta at a small family reception.  Enamoured with Italian culture, Patton eventually went on to become fluent in the language. He bought a house in his wife’s home town, Bologna. Patton had seemly ‘grown up’. His love of Italy has always been apparent in his music and movie choices, having long admired the prodigious body of work of composer Ennio Morricone (Mr Bungle performed near-perfect renditions of Morricone tracks ‘Citta Violenta’, ‘La Lucertola’ and ‘Metti, Una Sera Cera’ live; Fantomas covered ‘Investigation of A Citizen Above Suspicion’ on The Director’s Cut; and for Mondo Cane Patton sung ‘Deep Down’ and ‘Quello che conta’). Also a vocal fan of Italian horror and exploitation cinema – Mondo Cane is named after the notorious 1962 shockumentary from that country – Patton once named amongst his five favourite films at the time Black Sunday, Cannibal Holocaust and Slave of the Cannibal God (Chainsaw 2001, p.46). Even his look since 1997, comprising of jet-black slicked hair and immaculately sharp suits, is akin to that of a Godfather-like Mafia don or old-school Italian movie producer. Notoriously guarded about his personal life, particularly in regards to relationships and family, his usual replies to these questions are “None of your goddamn business”, or an outrageously fictitious response. Patton has no interest in making his private life a 24-hour Kardashian-like media circus – he is happy to share his music with the world, but not at the expense of the privacy of his family.

With the newlywed Patton and band tensions simmering after Jim Martin’s demise from Faith No More (though some are of the opinion that Patton engineered the firing of Martin in 1994, there had already been constant squabbles and infighting between the guitarist and the other members long since Patton joined the band), 1995’s King for a Day, Fool for a Lifetime - a more guitar-based album than its predecessor - noticeably had a more ‘relaxed’ air to it. Whilst even more of a commercial failure in the band’s home country than Angel Dust, the album was once again a smash hit around Europe and Australasia. Faith No More would release one final album – the ironically-titled Album of the Year  –  before announcing their breakup in April 1998, with Billy Gould issuing the press statements “The decision among the members is mutual" and "...the split will now enable each member to pursue his individual projects unhindered." (Faith No More, 2014, para. 18).

Patton seemingly did not devote any of his newly freed-up time post-FNM to idle pursuits, immediately throwing himself into what many would consider a workaholic schedule to this day. While still frontman of Faith No More, Patton had already completed two solo works – Adult Themes for Voice (composed entirely of vocal effects with tracks titled ‘Porno Holocaust’, ‘Red Mouth, Black Orgasm’ and ‘A Lizard with the Skin of Woman’) and Pranzo Oltranzista. Also in 1995 he and his Mr Bungle bandmates released the tremendous Disco Volante, a volcanic cocktail of death metal, jazz, techno and Middle Eastern and Italian horror soundtrack influences.  Patton went to release one more album with Bungle, 1999’s California (a more ‘poppier’ effort than its predecessor but still extraordinarily innovate and in no way mainstream) before their eventual split. 

Patton continued to collaborate on and release a staggering, incredibly eclectic output of music. Also in 1998 he formed the ‘supergroup’ Fantomas with Slayer’s Dave Lombardo, Buzz Osborne from The Melvins and his old colleague Trevor Dunn from Mr Bungle. Influenced by hardcore/death metal, film soundtracks and cartoon music, it is almost offensive to simply describe the music of Fantomas as ‘unique’.

The following year he co-founded the record label Ipecac Recordings with Greg Werkman, the former label manager of Alternative Tentacles. The pair, already good friends, had been wanting to set up a record label together for some time, and with their new venture vowed to be a honest, artist-friendly label run at a low cost, with no outrageous promotional or production costs. Ipecac became the new home of Patton’s many varied musical collaborations and also a place where bands he and Werkman admired could release music they wouldn’t necessarily have to chance to on other labels.  Patton stated that his goals for the label were: “To put out interesting releases that we enjoy. To treat artists with the utmost respect, to be unique and of course to have a proper home for my music.” (Sheaffe 2003, p.27.) And, as Patton indeed clarified in a more blunt manner to Kerrang: “Would this work on a major label with hundred thousand dollar budgets? Probably not. It’s a different world. That world’s not about doing what you can do to make the artist happy, it’s not about music, it’s about spend spend spend and get the band in debt and keep them drunk and happy and that’s that. We keep the costs low, pay the band a reasonable amount; how much do you need to record, they get in there, they do it cheap. One of the things you realise is, it’s your money! So don’t go to some expensive studio and hire some guy to hold your golf clubs, just make your fucking record and get the fuck out of there! You’ll be happier for it in the long run because you’ll get paid for what you do. [Whispering] You might make some money on your records! It’s a totally different way of thinking, but it works.” (Yates 2003, p.30).

The Mike Patton of the new millennium continues to astound, surprise and exceed expectations with each of his projects, effortlessly genre-hopping and mining a seemingly endless pit of creativity. Amongst a myriad of other jaw-dropping aural endeavours, Patton has performed in experimental alt rock act Tomahawk (another supergroup comprising of ex-The Jesus Lizard guitarist Duane Denison, former Helmet drummer John Stanier, and Melvins bassist Kevin Rutmanis) and Peeping Tom, best described as an alternative rock/electronica/trip hop outfit comprising of a wishlist of collaborators whom Patton hoped would perform on the tracks, including Massive Attack, Norah Jones and Rahzel. Considered his long-awaited ‘pop’ project (or as close to the genre as he’ll get), Patton quipped upon release of Peeping Tom in 2007: “I don't listen to the radio, but if I did, this is what I'd want it to sound like. This is my version of pop music. In a way, this is an exercise for me: taking all these things I've learned over the years and putting them into a pop format. I've worked with many people who have said to me, 'oh you have a pop record in you, eventually you'll find it,' and I always laughed at them. I guess I owe them an apology.” (Peeping Tom, 2014, para. 10).

2010’s Mondo Cane was Patton’s love letter to 1950’s and 1960’s Italian pop music, a genre he became acquainted with when living in Bologna and hearing songs from the era repeatedly played on the radio there. Featuring a forty-member orchestra, fifteen-piece backing band, and a choir, Patton’s passionate, emotive vocals are a perfect match and the combination makes for a remarkable tribute to the songs covered. Vowing to avoid simply mimicking the original recordings, he stated "...this is a record of covers, and I believe firmly that you have to make them your own. There is a very fine line to tread. You have to treat a song with respect, yet twist it up, fuck it up and somehow make it a part of your own voice". (Mondo Cane, 2014, para. 6).

In his post Faith No More years Patton has also ventured into other fields outside of music. An avid video game player, he has completed voiceovers for several game characters. His vocal skills have also been utilised in cinema, providing the demonic roar of the creature of the 2007 blockbuster I Am Legend. Patton has even tried his hand at acting in the 2005 indie thriller Firecracker, starring alongside Karen Black and giving a credible performance as not one but two characters – an abusive, repulsive, white trash alcoholic, and as a demented carnival owner who torments the hapless Black.

Much to the surprise and shock of fans, Faith No More unexpectedly reformed again in early 2009 for a series of successful worldwide reunion tours throughout that year and occasional spots in 2011 and 2012. Notably during a 2012 concert in Moscow, the band, enraged at the arrest of members of the all-female punk activist group/collective Pussy Riot, insisted as a precondition that the other members of Pussy Riot appear on stage in support of their cause. During their set, whist Mike Patton and co took a break, the Pussy Riot women took to the stage wearing knit masks, holding up signal flares and chanting anti-government slogans and calling for the release of their jailed colleagues.  FNM then returned after the break, clad in the same headwear and Pussy Riot T-shirts, belting out ‘We Care a Lot’.

In relation to his support of Pussy Riot, Mike Patton has long championed and collaborated with creative, innovative and intelligent women in the arts. He made a guest appearance on Bjork’s 2004 album Medulla  – the two had been mutual fans of each other’s work for years. Though Patton separated from Cristina Zuccatosta in 2001, they remain friends. A chic and striking, vividly tattooed, raven-haired beauty, Cristina has been an obvious inspiration for Patton throughout his discography and she has also provided graphic design work for some of his projects (including the pop-art cover design for Fantomas’ debut album). He has expressed open disdain at the sexual objectification of women in the music world, a notable example when he stormed out in disgust after witnessing Guns ‘N Roses notorious backstage ‘antics’. FMN keyboardist Roddy Bottum recalls “We went into this trailer, which was filled with guys. Everyone was dead silent. Everyone was looking at something going on in the back. Lying on a bench were these two really out-of-it women, stark naked. One was eating the other out, but it was anything but sexy. The girl who was being eaten out looked like she was dead. It was so creepy. All you could hear was the whir of the video camera. My lead singer started yelling, “Oh my God! I cannot believe you people would do this!” Everyone just shushed us, and we all left immediately.” (Loud 1993). Tellingly, Patton stated during his 90’s FMN years in relation to groupies and why he’d rather masturbate than sleep with one: “It’s got nothing to do with sex. It’s like vampirism. I’m their transfusion”. (Scanlon 1992, p.36).

Rather than being worshipped by female fans for his looks and them throwing themselves to him as ‘offerings’, Patton prefers and is much more comfortable interacting with them as equals, chatting about common interests.  I had the honour of meeting Mike Patton in 2007 during a CD signing session in Melbourne, and though I only had limited time with him due to the length of the queue eagerly awaiting autographs, I was able to ask him what his favourite Italian horror/thriller movies were (a nerd question I’d been dying to know the answer to for ages). Clearly not expecting that sort of a question, I managed to stump the usually ultra quick-witted Patton for a few moments while he said “Oh man there’s so many, it’s hard for me to think of some.” After some umming and errrring, he named Argento’s giallos up to Profondo Rosso as his top choices, as well as Elio Petri’s Investigations of a Citizen Above Suspicion (a cover version of the title track can be found on Fantomas’ The Director’s Cut.

People often misconstrue Patton’s appalling social skills as arrogance, or the usual, tedious self-destructive desire to make his gloriously wealthy rock n’ roll star existence as depressing as possible. Patton’s self-destructive nature is not part of a marketable personality. Seemingly, there are no ulterior motives other than to satisfy his own limitless curiosity and, if he’s lucky, maybe shock a few people in the process.” Billy Gould offered a revealing insight into Patton’s persona in 1995: “Mike feels self-conscious about having someone care about what he’s thinking. It’s almost like he’s ashamed or something. He doesn’t think he’s very interesting, and I think he feels insulted that there’s an industry that would care what he thinks when he feels like he’s just some regular guy.” (Morris 1995).

For someone who has garnered much critical and fan-based praise throughout his career, Patton does not appear to have outwardly developed any sort of ego. Rather his reaction has been of modesty, surprise and even anger when his contribution to music is acknowledged. Notoriously guarded when questioned about the ‘meaning’ of his lyrics, Patton openly despises  any attempt to intellectualise his music, stating “The idea, at least in rock and pop culture, that the singer is on some pedestal in Speaker’s Corner – I’ve just never subscribed to that. I’m not a poet. I’m not up onstage to get something off my chest. I’m making musical statements, or, most of the time, musical questions for people to figure out, and I’m not going to get in the way of that.” (Simonini 2013). This could simply be a honest dislike of pretension and desire to “keep it real”. Or perhaps, a deep-rooted fear of his perceived ‘failures’ and ‘mistakes’ being pointed out and highlighted. The more interviews one reads and hears from Patton, the more apparent the almost impossibly high standards of perfection he sets for himself are. What on the surface appears to be light-hearted  self-deprecation is actually harsh self-criticism – he has admitted to only seeing the ‘flaws’ in his work and that listening to his own music is unbearable as he always finds areas where he could have improved himself. “For the most part that can kind of be an uncomfortable experience. Rather than, wow, man, that’s incredible, it’s more like, damn it, that guitar should have been louder, or I’m so flat on that note or this is mixed so bad...These are the things that you hear. Usually what I hear are mistakes.”  (Yates 2003, p.30). However, in more recent years, Patton has began to take a more – slightly – relaxed – approach. “I have a hard time listening to my music. Like if you put on my record I’d just start cringing right now...because if I really were to sit down and listen, I hear the mistakes. You don’t hear the good things. But that’s changed a little recently. When you get older, you let go a little more...all the mistakes are little tiny technical things, anyway, like I shouldn’t have sung that that way, or, Oh I was flat there. It’s not like, Oh, I shouldn’t have made this record. Because I feel like even if maybe I don’t like a particular record, it was a step in the process and I must have learned something from it. I think that’s more of a mature viewpoint.” (Simonini 2013). Likewise, Patton is baffled at the lengths some of his fans go to in their reverence of him. “If I can affect somebody with something I doing in some way, that’s fantastic, but you don’t have to go out and start a fucking website or do any of that fucking shit.” (Yates 2003, p.30). “It’s amazing to me that people have paid enough attention to what I’ve done to even shake a stick at it. Especially as I haven’t made it easy...As cynical as I can be, when people say, ‘Yeah, I love what you did with the X-Ecutioners and also with that German doom band’, it always takes me aback.” Rather than arrogance, it’s more likely that Patton sees himself as ‘just a man’ and honestly can’t figure out why someone would put him on a higher plane. Though he immensely enjoys his career, he also sees it as a job – he goes to work just like everyone else. “My music has no cultural ramification. It is entertainment for others, work for me. I’m not recreating the wheel or curing a disease.” (Sheaffe 2003, p.27).

There are certainly no signs of Mike Patton slowing down in future. The announcement by Billy Gould in September 2014 that Faith No More were officially recording material for a new album after an 18 year hiatus (titled ‘Sol Invictus’; to be released in April 2015), as well as preparing for an accompanying world tour, was much welcomed by ecstatic Patton fans worldwide. Not only are most talented and innovative hard rock bands in music history releasing a new album, a new generation will have the chance to discover and become inspired by Patton the way I was back in the winter of 1990.

Blessed with good looks, charisma and extraordinarily diverse talent, there is little doubt that Patton could have become an A-list, mainstream superstar had he wanted to. But he has chosen to live his own life, creating and working with friends and collaborators on whatever, undoubtedly, interesting and unusual project HE wants to embark on, without being choked by the stranglehold of a mainstream label.  One just has to watch a clip of any of Patton’s music performances to see that the man TRULY loves music and performing music. He is the real deal – not an artificial PR creation happy to sell his soul to the highest bidder for the cold hard cash.  “I don’t really know why it’s the way it is”, he says of his lack of mainstream success, “but I’ve become very comfortable with it. I know that whatever I put out, whether people think it’s pop or noise or whatever, it’s always going to be some kind of a freak or mutation. It’s not going to be anything pure that a lot of people with relate to. And that’s fine.” (Drever 2003). It appears that no matter what Mike Patton does, no matter how far he ventures into the avant-garde arena, he will never alienate his passionately loyal fanbase, thus cementing his future longevity and success for many more years to come. And in the current world of quickly, artificially processed McDonalds music, designed for fast, throwaway consumption,  the ‘slow-cooker’, organic genius of Patton is indeed a breath of fresh air.

References

Chainsaw, Billy. Oct. 2001, ‘My bizarre life: Mike Patton’, Bizarre no.51, p.46.

‘Digging deeper: Axl Rose is not the singer with the widest range’. Vintage Vinyl News. Retrieved 1 July, 2014, from http://www.vintagevinylnews.com/2014/05/digging-deeper-axl-rose-is-not-singer.html

Drever, A. 2003, December 5, ‘Patton pending’. The Age. Retrived 1 July, 2014, from http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/12/04/1070351705958.html

‘Faith No More’. Wikipedia. Retrieved 15 June, 2014, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faith_No_More

Godley, D. 1990, September 19, ‘Amazin’ Faith’, Smash Hits (Australia). Retrieved 10 June, 2014, from http://www.negele.org/db/index.php?band=2&year=1990&month=9&day=19&id=1505

Loud, L. 1993, June 15, ‘Heavy metal homo’, The Advocate. Retrieved 10 June, 2014, from http://archive.today/OjDo

‘Mike Patton’.Wikipedia. Retrieved 15 June, 2014 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mike_Patton

‘Mondo Cane’. Wikipedia. Retrieved 19 June 2014, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mondo_Cane_(album)

Morris, G. 1995, March, ‘Oh no, not again...’, Select. Retrieved 10 June, 2014, from http://www.faithnomoreblog.com/2012/04/faith-no-more-interviews-1993-1995-plus.html

‘Peeping Tom’. Wikipedia.  Retrieved 19 June 2014, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peeping_Tom_(band)

Peterson, Zac. 3 July 2012, ‘Faith No More cares a lot about Pussy Riot’. Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty. Retrived 19 June 2014, from http://www.rferl.org/content/faith-no-more-moscow-pussy-riot/24633489.html

Scanlon, Ann. Dec. 1992, ‘Making a leap of faith’, Vox, p.36.

Sheaffe, Jeremy. Dec. 2003, ‘Ipecac making people sick since 1999’, Blunt, p.27.

Simonini, R. 2013, January, ‘Mike Patton’, The Believer. Retrieved 19 June, 2014, from http://www.believermag.com/issues/201301/?read=interview_patton

Watts, Chris. 23 May 1992, ‘Testing the faith’, Kerrang no.393, p.51.

Yates, R. 10 May 2003, ‘How to look stupid and influence people’, Kerrang no.954, p.30.

From the vault – a few of my old 90’s fanzine movie reviews

So I’ve decided to dust off these ancient relics hidden far away at the very back of the Chelle’s Inferno archives – a selection of reviews from my old self-published fanzine, Archetype Malice. Personally I find my writing style in these (written between 1996-1999, between the ages of 16-19) ‘unevolved’ and embarrassing at times, but just thought I’d republish them as a bit of fun. Read at your peril...and keep in mind that some of my opinions have VASTLY changed since then : )

WARNING: spoiler alerts!!!

Toxic Zombies - 1980, dir: Charles McCrann (rating: 0 stars)

Marijuana farmers are transformed into flesh-eating zombies after the government sprays their crop with an experimental poison. That’s about it concerning the plot – the rest of the film deals with a cop, his wife and two orphaned children trying to escape the ghouls.

Allegedly shot over a single weekend, this movie is the equivalent to a karate chop to the head – it is tedious, the acting is thoroughly wooden, and the ‘music’ score consists of a few random plunkings on a keyboard. There are a few gory bits, but they are laughably fake...one scene which comes to mind is when a guy’s hand is lopped off – it looks so phony that it reminded me of an episode of The Young Ones, in which Vyvian’s head is decapitated after he sticks it out the window of a moving train, and the blood squirts out like a jet of water from a water pistol...However, the director seems to be proud of these not-so-special effects – the camera dwells on them lovingly. The sole redeeming feature of the film is the inclusion of John Amplas (star of George Romero’s Martin)...though he only has limited screen time as a very young looking FBI agent (though John was about 29 when he appeared in the film, he looks 18 at most here). The jokers at Midnight Video clearly only had $ on their mind when they described the picture as being ‘a must see zombie film’. Don’t be fooled by them, this is utter, utter crap, worth only a look from the most diehard of John Amplas fans. Oh, and if the video box cover art looks familiar, that’s because the still is not a scene from Toxic Zombies, it’s from Night of the Zombies! (Both films were distributed in Australia by Palace Explosive).

A Virgin Among the Living Dead - 1973, dir: Jess Franco (rating: 1 and a half stars)

**Please note that my opinion of this film has VASTLY changed since I wrote this review in January 1998...it’s one of my most beloved Jess Franco titles now.

Although I have read plenty about them, I had never seen a Jess Franco film until this, one of his lesser talked about films, played on SBS a few months ago. Upon the death of her father, Christina is summoned to the family’s Honduran mansion to collect an inheritance. There she meets her strange, zombie-like relatives, who practice bizarre occult rituals, and a retarded servant (played by Franco himself). She also begins to see and communicate with her father’s ghost, witnesses unexplained supernatural occurrences, and has nightmares about being assaulted by zombies. The film concludes with Christina’s death (which happens directly after a dream – leaving the viewer to wonder if her nightmares were in fact real), and with one of the relatives explaining that she was the last living relative, thus her death enables the family to reunite again, as zombies.

There were a few things I liked about this film – I found the basic storyline quite interesting, and there is an offbeat Bruno Nicolai soundtrack. Unfortunately, that’s about it...The version I saw was severely censored, with black spots covering all nudity. Supposedly there is also quite a bit of missing footage. I don’t know how much difference viewing the uncut version would make, but in this version the few horror scenes left untampered with feature absolutely dire makeup effects, with a mannequin severed hand, and plastic bats. The zombie makeup is also cheap, but grotesque. And yes, the viewer is subjected to Franco’s merciless use of the zoom lens every minute or so. The lead actress, Christina von Blanc, is pretty but totally bland, and the only interesting performance comes from Franco regular Howard Vernon as Christina’s zombie uncle. On a whole the movie is unusual but dull – perhaps with a bigger budget, more story development and better direction, it could have been a decent film. However, this hasn’t put me off seeing more Franco films – I plan to see more in the future.

                             

Frightmare - 1974, dir: Peter Walker (rating: 3 stars)

In 1957, a middle-aged couple were institutionalised for committing a series of murders involving cannibalism and the use of an electric drill to the head. Twenty years later, they are released, but the wife (Shelia Keith) has not recuperated. Their adult daughter (Deborah Fairfax) is trying to cope with her loopy mum – she tries to keep her happy by bringing her packages of meat from the butchers and pretending that it’s the flesh of humans. But Shelia still isn’t satisfied – she starts killing again – and is soon joined by their psycho younger daughter. Her hen-pecked husband (Rupert Davies) does nothing to stop them as he loves his wife too much. I won’t reveal the ending but it is not a happy one...

This is a sleeper of a film. Although talky and low on the wet stuff (the various killings via drill, hot poker and pitchfork are depicted off-screen) it does sustain the viewer’s interest throughout because of its twisted storyline and top-notch acting – Shelia Keith is truly frightening. Rent this if you want a change from the usual plotless gorefests. Frightmare has been described as being very disturbing and violent for its time – by today’s standards it is tame but still quite grim. There is no humour whatsoever in this one – intended or unintended.

                            

The Spider Labyrinth - 1988, dir: Gianfranco Giagni (rating: 2 stars)

A daft and incredibly naive university professor is dispatched from America to Budapest to search for a missing colleague, Dr. Roth. The professor finds the doctor, who is moody and uncommunicative. Soon after, Dr. Roth dies and his body is found in a bizarre state – hanging from the ceiling in what appears to be large cobwebs. More deaths occur and the professor soon stumbles upon the source of the murders – a diabolical sect whose members have the ability to transform into a sort of humanoid-spider. Of course our hero is caught by the evil cult, who transfer the curse on to him. The film ends predictably, with the prof killings his American colleagues.

Though shot on a lavish (for Italian standards) budget, the film is mostly forgettable except for some dreamlike sequences, which, as genre critic Chas. Balun put it, “could pass for Argento outtakes”. A slow first half leads to the action in the cult’s lair, where we find some gooey but uninteresting effects from Italy’s current mainman in the business, Sergio Stivaletti. Otherwise, Spider Labyrinth is just passable.

Re-Animator - 1985, dir: Stuart Gordon (rating: 3 stars)

At Miskatonic University, eccentric but brilliant medical student Herbert West (Jeffrey Combs) is conducting experiments to raise the dead via injection of a fluorescent green serum. West’s professor, Dr. Hill is jealous of his genius and tries to find out more about the experiments, but he has his head decapitated by an anxious West. The serum, which has not been perfected, achieves disastrous and hilarious results – the dean turns into a drooling zombie, and an autopsy room full of cadavers is resurrected. Hill gets hold of the serum and manages to re-animate himself – but he has to carry his head around on a dish.

Full of moist splatter effects and black (and not so black) humour, Re-Animator is a scream. Jeffrey Combs is perfect as the mad scientist, and in fact the whole cast give on-target performances. No doubt Peter Jackson’s Braindead was inspired by this.

The Last Cannibal World - 1977, dir: Ruggero Deodato (rating: 2 and a half stars)

Representatives from an oil company on an expedition in Malaysia become separated when their plane breaks down in the Jungle and one of the men (Massimo Foschi) is captured by a tribe of cannibals. He is forced to endure a number of torturous rituals and is imprisoned in a pit. Massimo (and the audience) also witness other stomach-churning events such as: the killing and eating of an (unfortunately) real crocodile, a woman, after giving birth, biting the umbilical cord, a close-up of ants crawling on a wounded boy’s arm, and of course the token scenes of cannibalism. Foschi manages to escape with the help of a native girl. However, the girl isn’t so lucky, as the cannibals catch up with her, and in a scene almost totally cut in the version I saw (the trimmed Australian release) has her torso slit open, her guts scooped out and replaced with hot coals, and is eaten for dinner.

The Last Cannibal World is a fairly interesting adventure. However, this is only a warm-up to Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust, one of the most shocking and disturbing films ever made. Like Holocaust, Last Cannibal World has that realistic ‘you are there’ feeling, probably because it was shot on location in Malaysia with real cannibals. The acting and dubbing is pretty good, and if you’re wondering, the film does contain the two pre-requisites for Italian cannibal films – much stock footage and an exaggerated vomiting scene.

Massacre at Central High - 1976, dir: Rene Daaldeer (rating: 2 and a half stars)

David, a new student at Central High, finds that the school and students are ruled by a tough gang, who dump books on Arthur, the student librarian, smash impoverished student Rodney’s car, bully fat Oscar, and mock hippy Spoony’s views. Eventually the gang turns their attention to David, who they see as being too much of a ‘good guy’ and cripple his leg. David vows to give them a brutal vengeance, and disposes of the first guy by tampering with his hang-glider, kills the second by tricking him into diving into an empty pool (splat!) and eradicates the third by trapping him into a van and pushing it off a cliff. At first, things seem better at Central High, but the students take advantage of their freedom and start harassing each other. David, who is disgusted at what is happening, starts killing off the main perpetrators, and as madness overtakes him, plants a bomb under the school gym during a dance, but at the last minute is overcome with guilt and goes to remove the bomb. But it is too late – the bomb explodes in his arms.

Massacre at Central High is an OK horror/action film, with an interesting cast and some hideous 70s outfits. Some of the dialogue is pretty awful too. But fortunately the movie’s intriguing plot twists hold it together and keep you involved until the end.

Night of the Zombies - 1980, dir: Bruno Mattei (rating: 4 stars)

A direct rip-off of George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead, NOTZ goes so far as to have stolen the Goblin soundtracks from various sources. Medical research in New Guinea goes wrong, resulting in toxic chemical contamination turning the workforce into flesh-eating zombies. A team of soldiers are sent to New Guinea where they are joined by reporter Lia Rosseau and her cameraman. As for the rest of the film’s plot, we just have to look at one of Romero’s Living Dead films: one by one our heroes are overcome and killed, and we are left with the conclusion that the zombies will eventually take over the world (how’s that for originality?)

Memorable moments: Lia’s cameraman approaching a group of the undead and asking them to “hold still” for a photo; our heroes’ encounter with grainy stock footage natives, one of the soldiers yelling “Let go of her” to the zombies when they grab Lia; and the longest exaggerated vomiting scene ever seen. Make sure you keep your remote control on hand as there’s at least a good 20 minutes of stock footage to get through...

Zombi Holocaust - 1980, dir: Mariano Girolami (rating: 3 stars)

I can just see the director of this saga having a brainstorm after the success of Ruggero Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust and Lucio Fulci’s Zombie: why not make a film with cannibals and zombies? A scientist, Peter (Ian McCulloch, also seen in Contamination) and his friends Lori, George and Susan travel to the island of Kito to investigate rumours of cannibalism.  They run into the insane Dr. Obrero, who is creating zombies by transplanting brains into the skulls of the dead and encouraging the locals who live around his hideout to eat human flesh.

Quality wise, Zombi Holocaust is a cut above other ‘so bad it’s good’ films because of its good soundtrack (there’s a cool thumping main theme) and the well done gore effects (heart ripping, eyeball popping, scalpings, even disembowelment with a boat motor. NOTE: these effects are barely glimpsed in the hacked Australian release – it is definitely worthwhile seeking it uncut). The film is also surprisingly devoid of stock footage and upchuck scenes. But don’t worry, there’s still plenty that fits it into the SBIG group, like the authentic Wooden acting (dig those inept reaction shots!) and the stupid breathing noises the zombies make. And of course it features that old boo-boo, lousy dubbing. Example: Lori: “Where the hell did you hear that crap?” Susan: “Let’s just say, a little newshound’s sense of smell?” Lori: “Really? Then you must have a cold because there’s no mystery that I know of.”

Pieces - 1982, dir: Juan Piquer Simon (rating: 4 stars)

In 1984, Pieces was understandably called ‘the worst production ever made’. Pieces begins in 1942, in a house which contains a plastic bag and a push-button phone. A little boy has just whacked his mother with an axe after she caught him playing with a nude jigsaw puzzle.

Cut to 40 years later, where he is now employed at a Boston university set somewhere in Spain, and preparing to slaughter nubile female victims to make his own human jigsaw. The entire student body seems perpetually on heat as one particularly badly dubbed girl talks about “smoking pot and fucking on a water bed”, and another decides to go skinny-dipping in the college swimming pool. She is chainsawed to death, and her very plastic-looking body parts scattered around the pool are laughably dodgy. More killings occur via axe and knife and more body parts go missing until the double-shock ending (at this point my stomach was hurting from being doubled over with laughter). Undoubtedly one of the most misogynistic and sleazy films ever made, Pieces was picketed upon release in New York. Fortunately, it’s too stupid to be really offended by it.

A Blade in the Dark - 1983, dir: Lamberto Bava (rating: 2 stars)

Bruno, a young music composer, rents a lonely, isolated villa to concentrate on writing the score for an upcoming horror film. Soon after moving in, a neighbour is brutally murdered and Bruno begins to hear strange voices around the villa. He begins to think he is going mad as the body count rises: his girlfriend Julia is stabbed in the heart after she unwisely hides in a cupboard from the killer and the director of the horror movies is strangled with reels of her own film. At movie’s end, the killer is revealed to be the real estate agent who rented the villa to Bruno – the agent is a psychopathic transvestite played by Michele Soavi in one of his early acting roles.

An unremarkable Argento-inspired early effort from Lamberto Bava, the film is severely hampered by bad dubbing (those ridiculous phony American voices are hilarious). Examples: “You know Julia, you are being slightly difficult (Bruno to Julia), “Bruno it’s me, I’m Julia your girl” (Julia to Bruno obviously). To add to this, A Blade... is filled with unlikable, superfluous characters who might as well have hung placards around their necks saying ‘Kill me’. Apparently it’s also been cut quite a bit for its Australian release. On the plus side, the film is technically well made, there are a few suspenseful moments and there is an eerie soundtrack.

Hunters of the Golden Cobra  - 1982, dir: Antonio Margheriti (rating: 1 and a half stars)

Not a horror film but a Raiders of the Lost Ark clone churned out by Antonio Margheriti, Italy’s answer to Roger Corman. David Warbeck plays Bob Jackson, a government agent sent to find a stolen statue of a golden cobra (believed to have supernatural powers) by the government of an Asian island. On a whole, Hunters... is lighthearted but dull, thanks to several unexciting action sequences. The film is, however, a great showcase for Warbeck’s torso. He also overacts shamelessly and has some priceless facial expressions which only a Warbeck could do. R.I.P.

Contamination - 1980, dir: Luigi Cozzi (rating: two and a half stars)

*NOTE – since then I LOVE the Goblin soundtrack

A fun, chunkblowing rip-off of Alien directed by Argento protégé Luigi Cozzi, surprisingly released uncut here (it was trimmed in the UK and USA). Extraterrestrial pods from Mars are being brought back to Earth. When the pods open they cause any nearby humans’ insides to explode messily out of their stomachs (in slow motion!) The team undertaking this operation are controlled by the dreaded ‘Alien Cyclops’, a phony-looking creature glimpsed at film’s end. Cozzi himself was embarrassed by the tackily-made Cyclops, stating “...the monster was actually made out of papier-mache and badly painted to boot!” There’s also a – shock – unremarkable – Goblin score (the only Goblin soundtrack I haven’t been taken by). But overall, an entertaining flick.

Murderock - 1984, dir: Lucio Fulci (rating: 1 and a half stars)

Murderock marked the beginning of the end for Lucio Fulci, after his series of successful late70s/early 80s splatter flicks and the departure of his team of regular collaborators. Inspired by the 80s breakdance craze, Murderock is an embarrassingly dated Flashdance-meets-horror hybrid, with an awful Keith Emerson disco soundtrack and lots of neon lights and lycra.

At a New York dance studio, dancers are competing for a part in the latest musical show. Mayhem ensures when the best dancers are killed by a maniac whose weapon is a long needle which is slowly pushed though through the victim’s chest, puncturing their heart. Almost bloodless, Murderock is technically very well made, but I found it deadly dull. Compared to Fulci’s earlier key films, this just about made me want to cry. “Murderock was the end of an era...” – Lucio Fulci.

Driller Killer - 1979, dir: Abel Ferrara (rating: 2 and a half stars)

This grungy, micro-budgeted release is cult auteur Abel Ferrara’s debut in filmmaking. Reno (Ferrara) is a paranoid, moody artist living in a squalid New York apartment with two punk rock groupies; one is his girlfriend Carol and the other is the permanently stoned Pamela. He dreams of becoming rich via his paintings, but is long overdue with rent payments and is threatened with eviction. Reno is forced to sublet to an atrocious punk band named ‘Tony Coca-Cola and the Roosters’, who use his place for marathon jam sessions, thus robbing him of the concentration required to paint. His paranoia increases as he observes the street derelicts around the vicinity (among them is his own father) and realises that if his current lifestyle does not increase dramatically, he will end up among them. Reno’s descent into madness culminates in his purchasing of a portable drill, with which he dispatches a number of deadbeats and winos. The situation does not improve when an art dealer rejects the painting which Reno considers his masterpiece;  the artist makes further use of his drill. Reno breaks into his now former girlfriend Carol’s ex-husband’s apartment (whom she has left him for). The movie’s final shot fades to red as Reno hides in their bed, pretending to be the ex-husband, lying in wait for Carol.
Driller Killer gained notoriety in the early 80s, when it was one of the most reviled of the ‘video nasties’ in the UK. However, it is nowhere near as gory as its reputation suggests; apart from two graphic drillings, most of the murders are depicted out of frame. The film works quite well in dealing with its ‘tortured artist’ subject matter, but the atmosphere is marred by including far too many scenes of the moronic punk band which contributes to Reno’s downfall. Ferrara went on to direct further gritty ‘urban hell’ pictures, including M.S. 45 and Bad Lieutenant.

Island of Perversion -1976, dir: Nico Mastorakis (rating: 1 star)

I can’t believe it! I would love to know that the censors were doing when they played this thing. Because it’s a minor miracle that Island of Perversion got into our video stores uncut. This sick puppy has it all: several ‘creative’ kills (including death by whitewash), four rapes, goat buggery, golden showers, incest...just good wholesome entertainment! Before I begin my synopsis, I should warn potential viewers not to bother with this title, because despite its OTT content, this horror/exploitation/very black comedy epic is actually very boring and stupid in its puerile attempts to shock.

A young couple, Chris and Celia, are on holiday on the Greek island of Mykonos. Not long after their arrival they decide to have sex in a telephone booth, during which they call up Celia’s repulsed mother in London. Chris then proceeds to get amorous with a goat, which he stabs to death. In a restaurant, they meet Jean-Claude, an unprepossing sleazebag painter who believes he is God’s gift to women. The next day Celia helps Jean-Claude paint his house with whitewash and before you know it they are fucking in the front garden. Unbeknown to the painter, Chris is secretly photographing all of this. He then bashes Jean-Claude and nails him to the ground while Celia takes over the camera. Next he his forced to drink whitewash to death. Their next victims are a gay couple – one is killed via sword, the other is shot in the mouth (hence the film’s subtle tagline: “The lucky ones got their brains blown out!!”), a lesbian barmaid is torched with an aerosol flamethrower, a pair of drug-addicted hippies (one of whom is drowned in a toilet), and a cop who ends up hanging from a noose on a flying plane. The reason for all of this? Apparently Chris is attempting to protect children from corruption, and that he is ‘battling against the forces of moral decline’. Evading the police, the couple hide out at a retarded shepherd’s farm. When Chris finds the shepherd raping Celia, he takes more photos, however the shepherd objects to this, rapes Chris, ties him up and leaves him in a lime pit. After we discover in the final ‘twist’ that Chris and Celia are brother and sister, the film ends with Chris doomed to die as rain begins to fall, causing the lime to burn.

A final word of warning: Far more disturbing to me than any of Island of Perversion’s above-mentioned depravities was the movie’s theme song, an absolute shocker not surprisingly co-written by the director which contains lines such as: “Mother, I’ve seen the wonders of today, millions of people living like clay, millions of whispers saying ‘I’m dying!’”, “Get the sword! Kill them all! Truth was born in a thousand meanings, Jesus said: ‘Look, I’m flying!”...ad nauseam.

Trog - 1970, dir: Freddie Francis (rating: 1 and a half stars)

A group of explorers discover a killer troglodyte (a half man/half ape mutant) which had been frozen in a cave since the Ice Age. A scientist (Joan Crawford in her last screen appearance) stuns ‘Trog’ with a tranquiliser to run test on him in her lab. But just as the scientist is making progress, Trog is released from his cage by an irate sceptic (played by the excellent British actor Michael Gough). Trog runs rampant across the countryside, culminating in the kidnapping of a young girl. The girl is eventually released from Trog’s cave and the mutant is put down.

Apart from a good cast (including a young David Warbeck in a small but amusing role as a TV reporter), Trog doesn’t have much else to offer. The monster makeup for Trog is crude and scenes where Trog attacks the television crow and scares kids in a playground are funny rather than frightening or suspenseful. Trog also has a ‘flashback’ in which we see some plastic dinosaur models during the ‘Ice Age’ (depicted by use of an extraordinarily unconvincing painted background). These give the film a kind of primitive charm which manages to keep the viewer watching.