Blacula (1972)/Scream Blacula Scream (1973) Blu-ray review

“Say, man, that is one strange dude… who is he?”

He’s Blacula.

In the early ‘70s, black cinema exploded onto screens across the nation when hits such as Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song (1971) and Shaft (1971) proved there was an audience hungry for urban drama focused on African Americans, offering a glimpse into their world. By the following year of 1972, the number of “blaxploitation” films increased more than fourfold, spawning a new genre and giving a voice to black filmmakers and actors who now had a platform with which to tell their stories. The movement may have only lasted a few years (by 1977 titles were trickling out), but blaxploitation left an indelible mark on cinema and bestowed upon audiences a handful of classic pictures.

One such enduring film is Blacula (1972), the first blaxploitation horror picture. Heavy cues are taken from past Dracula adaptations, but this entry is firmly rooted in African American culture due to the prevalence of jive-talkin’, tweed jackets and afros aplenty. Classically trained actor William H. Marshall stars as the title character, whose actual name is Mamuwalde, an African prince who, in 1780, travels to Transylvania on a diplomatic mission to put an end to the slave trade. There, he meets with Dracula (Charles Macaulay), who not only refuses to help Mamuwalde in his quest but also attacks him and his wife, Luva (Vonetta McGee). Mamuwalde fights back fiercely, but a bite from Dracula seals his fate and, in an ironic twist, sees him turned into a slave who now seeks blood to quench his undying thirst. He’s also rechristened “Blacula” by Dracula, a name which is oddly enough never again uttered during the film. Mamuwalde is sealed up in a coffin, inside a crypt, along his wife, Luva, who eventually dies by her man’s side.

Cut to nearly two centuries later and the contents of Dracula’s castle have been put up for auction, purchased by a couple of interior decorators who have plans for these antiques back home in Los Angeles. Upon arrival, however, Mamuwalde is awakened and quickly dispatches the couple. At the funeral service for one of the men, Mamuwalde inconspicuously watches the mourners, with Tina (Vonetta Williams) catching his eye as the apparent reincarnation of his beloved Luva. When he’s not busy feeding on the citizens of L.A., Mamuwalde is at his charming best, seductively romancing Tina, who is falling under his hypnotic spell. One of Tina’s acquaintances, Dr. Gordon Thomas (Thalmus Rasulala), however, has found bite marks consistent with vampire lore on the neck of a victim, and is convinced there may be one of the undead on the city streets. When Gordon digs up a recently deceased victim and is met by a pair of snarling fangs, his suspicions are confirmed. Working with the police, Gordon takes down a warehouse filled with blood suckers, while Mamuwalde and Tina attempt to flee together and preserve their love.

First and foremost, the onus of the film’s success rests squarely on the broad shoulders of William H. Marshall. The actor’s imposing physique belies his Shakespearean line delivery and effortless charm, bolstered by a smooth baritone voice that should have been cutting slow jam records, a la Barry White. Of interesting note is that Marshall wanted Mamuwalde to be more than just “Black Dracula”, going so far as to see his character’s name was changed from the generic “Andrew Brown” and given a backstory rich in African culture and focused on his attempt to stop slavery. His noble intentions give the film its ironic twist of fate. As with most vampires, Mamuwalde is typical in that he can be oozing seduction one minute, then lapping at an oozing neck like a monster the next. There’s a clear dichotomy to the character, because once he’s in full-on vamp mode his actions are feral and instinctual; the amiable man is left entirely. There’s only one oddity to his performance… The man has been sealed up in a casket since 1780, and when he awakens in present day Los Angeles there isn’t a single scene of his amazement at how the world has changed. A whole helluva lot happened in two centuries, so you’d think the man would show some sense of wonder.

Also atypical for a horror picture is the film’s score, courtesy of composer Gene Page, an arranger for such hit acts as The Four Tops, The Temptations and Barry White. There isn’t a lick of traditional horror movie motifs to be heard. Instead, the score is filled almost exclusively with music endemic to blaxploitation and black culture, giving Blacula a more soulful, funky edge than any other genre picture up to that point. The main theme could have come right out of Shaft, or been on a Brothers Johnson album.

From the Saul Bass-esque title credits right up through the surprisingly gallant, bittersweet ending Blacula has long cemented its status as one of the seminal cult classics of all-time. Even the title has been elevated to use as a colloquialism; any black guy who dresses as a vampire is automatically Blacula. This reminds me of The Simpsons (1989-present) episode where Dr. Hibbert, dressed as a vampire, is called Blacula and exclaims, “Oh, because I’m black and I’m Dracula, that makes me Blacula?” It’s in the cultural lexicon to stay. Complaints the film is amateurish, poorly acted, weak or unsatisfying were made by people who clearly don’t want to have fun with a movie.

Where there’s a hit, there’s usually a sequel, and Blacula got its follow-up just one year later in the form of Scream Blacula Scream (1973). Marshall returns as Mamuwalde, with Pam Grier (who was in the midst of a major hot streak) joining the cast as a potential love interest for the undead prince. Grier plays Lisa, the chosen successor of a late high voodoo priestess who opts for her over Willis (Richard Lawson), the priestess’ immature son. Upset at his dead mother’s decision, Willis acquires the bones of Mamuwalde in hopes that a voodoo ritual will bring the vampire back to life, whereupon he’ll have Mamuwalde do his bidding. The ritual works – but not as Willis intended. Mamuwalde isn’t controllable, and in another ironic series twist Willis winds up the unwitting servant to his conjured Prince of Darkness.

As Willis increases the vamp stable in his home through nightly feedings, Mamuwalde is a man about town, winding up at a party thrown by former detective Justin Carter (Richard Lawson). Justin is showing off his collection of rare African artifacts which, unbeknownst to him, were excavated from the region where Mamuwalde was once prince. Also at this party is Lisa, Justin’s girlfriend and the burgeoning voodoo priestess. She immediately takes a liking to Mamuwalde, who reciprocates because Lisa is incredibly foxy, and because her voodoo powers may be his ticket to lifting the curse which Dracula placed upon him centuries ago. Justin, meanwhile, works with some of his local police buddies to find who’s responsible for a string of murders in the area – murders committed by Mamuwalde, Willis and their growing brood. Things naturally come to a head in the third act, where Justin & co. storm Willis’ home and fight the vampiric residents, while Mamuwalde and Lisa attempt to lift his eternal burden.

Though not as good as the first film, Scream Blacula Scream is a surprisingly worthwhile follow-up that employs another trait common to a handful of blaxploitation films: voodoo. This approach helps differentiate the film enough that it doesn’t feel like a total rehash of events. Stylistically, many similarities are apparent including the opening titles, musical score (by a different composer) and overall aesthetics. Marshall once again plays Mamuwalde with a strong sense of dignity and class, and he flips it completely around when the fangs are bared. This time around Mamuwalde gets to show off a bit of his muscle. In one of the film’s best scenes, a couple of muggers try to get rough with the dark prince. Both quickly learn this was a mistake. And finally, for the first time in the series Mamuwalde actually refers to himself as Blacula, although his declaration doesn’t come until the film is nearly over. It’s funny that he’s christened Blacula at the opening of the first film, yet the name is never heard again until there are around seven minutes left in the sequel.

Blacula and Scream Blacula Scream are both highly entertaining slices of vintage cinema, featuring much of what makes blaxploitation films so damn enjoyable. William H. Marshall adds more gravitas than anyone who hasn’t seen these films would expect, delivering a powerful nuanced performance that, frankly, could have carried into another film or two. All hail Scream Factory for putting together a solid double feature for fans of these funky bloodsuckers.

The 1.85:1 1080p images for both Blacula and Scream Blacula Scream are very similar, with each getting a major upgrade over previous DVD editions thanks to some spiffy HD transfers made at MGM. Each print is immaculate, with extremely few hints of dirt or debris. Detail is highly apparent in every scene, with little background elements enjoying increased clarity. Colors look sharp and well-saturated, and black levels remains mostly stable throughout – a few shot here and there look hazy, nothing terrible. Grain is left in place, giving both films the proper aged ‘70s aesthetic.

Each film features an English DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono track, both of which are clear, clean and free from any hisses or pops. The sound design on these films is hardly dynamic, with a minimum level of separation among different elements. Dialogue sounds a bit low during a couple scenes where location sound was clearly used, though the majority of the tracks present it balanced among effects and music. The musical numbers and source tracks used on the soundtrack sound full and have presence. Subtitles are included in English.

Blacula features a commentary with author/film historian/filmmaker David F. Walker. This guy is prepared, excited and immediately begins rattling off once the picture gets underway, joking that most listeners probably have no clue who he is but he’ll explain why he’s here in a bit. He does, and he also delivers a lot of background information on the film’s production and actors.

Scream Blacula Scream star Richard Lawson provides an interview, running for just over 13 minutes. The actor describes how he didn’t even get the part he eventually wound up playing. He’s also apparently very skilled at reading a light meter based solely on how hot it feels on his skin.

Both films also feature a photo gallery and trailer among their respective bonus features.

Tales From the Crypt/Vault of Horror (1972/1973) Blu-ray review

When it comes to horror anthologies, no single studio stands out more than Amicus Productions. Though the company may have existed in the shadow of Hammer’s peak output period, their most valued contributions have been portmanteau pictures that were good enough to attract some of Hammer’s top talent. After successfully producing a handful of horror anthologies scripted by famed writer Robert Bloch, the studio looked across the Atlantic to America; specifically, New York City, home to EC Comics. Amicus co-founder Milton Subotsky was a long-time fan of their comics – titles such as “Tales from the Crypt”, “The Haunt of Fear” and “The Vault of Horror” - so he convinced one of his partners to acquire the rights to a handful of their tales. Their initial production, Tales from the Crypt (1972), proved so successful that a follow-up, Vault of Horror (1973, also known as Tales from the Crypt II in some markets), went into immediate production. Fans can debate which the superior film is (for me it’s Tales) but there’s no question that the winning combination of Amicus’ horror anthology acumen and EC Comics’ strong storytelling yielded two of the greatest multi-storied horror pictures conceived.

Tales from the Crypt begins with a wraparound wherein five strangers are inexplicably drawn to aging catacombs. There, they meet the Crypt Keeper (Ralph Richardson), an enigmatic, hooded individual who proceeds to tell each of them their eventual fate. Joanne (Joan Collins) is subjected to the terror of a deranged Santa Claus after killing her husband on Christmas Eve, leaving her unable to phone the police lest they discover her dead beau’s corpse. Carl (Ian Hendry) leaves his family behind to elope with a younger mistress, but their plans of future bliss are cut short due to a violent car crash, one which Carl only appears to have survived. The Elliotts – Edward (David Markham) and his unscrupulous son, James (Robin Phillips) – do everything in their power to rid the neighborhood of kindly old Mr. Grimsdyke (Peter Cushing), a lonely widower who takes great pleasure in fixing toys for the local kids and raising a stable of dogs. When their efforts succeed beyond their wildest dreams, a visitor from the grave ensures they won’t be around long to wallow in hateful bliss. Ralph (Richard Greene) and his wife, Enid (Barbara Murphy), have fallen on hard times. A Chinese figurine they discover claims to hold the power to grant them three wishes, hardly what they should consider a blessing given the outcome of the old “Monkey’s Paw” tale. Finally, a home for the blind is being run by newly-appointed head Major William Rogers (Nigel Patrick), a stern military type who rations everything from food to heating due to “economic concerns”; this despite the fact that he continues to live and eat like a king on the premises. The poorly-treated residents of the home don’t take kindly to his cruel rules, leading them to give the Major a taste of his own medicine. The film wraps up with the Crypt Keeper letting the five strangers in on a little secret, one which becomes clearer and clearer as the finale draws closer.

The greatest strength in Tales comes not from the acting or directing – both of which are perfectly sound – but in the rich stories culled from the comics. Somewhat ironically, most of the stories come not from Tales but some of EC’s other publications, though that’s more a minor bit of trivia than a condemnation. Each segment tells a full story in brief time, often with a morality angle and always ending poorly for the amoral characters who act as though they’re above reproach. Additionally, the film nails what many anthologies often don’t: the wraparound, which here is just as intriguing and mysterious as any one of the film’s stories. Also, maybe it’s the accents, but British horror pictures tend to have an air of regality about them that elevates the material ever so slightly; a touch more prestige, if you will. There’s also a great deal of wonderful practical FX on display, in particular the zombified Grimsdyke who isn’t on screen for nearly long enough. In fact, no segment overstays its welcome, ensuring the audience is hungry for more once the credits begin rolling.

And they remained hungry, so much so that Amicus quickly shuttled a sequel into production. Vault of Horror opened the following year, presenting a storyline virtually identical to its predecessor. Unlike Tales, which included a couple stories from its namesake comic, Vault pulled entirely from other publications; in fact, the majority of the stories are actually found in Tales. Not that any of this matters; it’s more about capturing the spirit of EC Comics’ publications than slavishly adapting them.

Here, five men find themselves on an elevator heading toward a destination none of them anticipated: the building’s sub-basement, where they find a posh room housing a large table and plenty of drinks. And, so, seemingly trapped here with time to kill each recounts a recurring nightmare they have experienced. The first, Harold (Daniel Massey), tells of visiting a mysterious village looking for his sister, who just inherited a large sum of money. He finds the townspeople odd and unhelpful, but eventually tracks down his sibling whom he promptly kills so the inheritance money will go to him. Death must cause considerable hunger because he heads to a local eatery for a bite, only to realize these are not normal people… and he’s just been added to the menu. Arthur Critchit (Terry-Thomas) is a fastidiously clean fellow, unlike his young wife, Eleanor (Glyns Johns), who is unable to meet his OCD demands. She’s such a nitwit that when she does try to earnestly clean, it only produces a bigger mess. And when Arthur gets home he erupts, finally pushing Eleanor to do some erupting of her own. Sebastian (Curd Jurgens) is a magician on vacation in India. He’s also a total dick who exposes fellow magicians to their rapt audiences. When he meets a woman who does extraordinary things with a rope (not that kind of extraordinary), naturally he decides the best way to acquire her skill is to kill her. What he doesn’t count on is the rope may not need the woman to perform its magic. A scam artist, Maitland (Michael Craig) concocts a scheme to collect insurance money on his own life by using a serum to give the illusion he has died. A friend of his is set to collect the money and, after burial, retrieve Maitland from the grave so he can live high on the hog for the rest of his days. Things, naturally, go poorly for all parties involved. Finally, Moore (Tom Baker), a painter in Haiti barely scraping by on his meager wages, learns his old art cohorts have sold his “worthless” paintings for a mint. Moore visits a voodoo priest and is given the power to use his artistic abilities for evil purposes, literally painting his enemies to their deaths. Moore, however, shows he’s a bit of a moron by painting a portrait of himself, which couldn’t possibly be damaged accidentally, could it?

The stories told in Vault of Horror are not quite as strong as those in its predecessor, but by no means is the film poor. It’s likely no accident the picture feels very much like an imitator of Tales from the Crypt given how popular that title was at the time. The tales aren’t redundant in any way, with each thematically different from the others. Conversely, three of the segments in Tales dealt with the living dead, whereas not a single one features a lumbering zombie here. Still, Vault can’t help but feeling a bit pedestrian, with no one story standing out as a clear winner. The onus of success then falls not on the writers but the actors, nearly all of whom turn in commendable performances. Terry-Thomas steals the show, if anyone does. His expressive face and trademark gap-toothed grin convey comedy and stern authority in equal parts. Plus, he was great in Danger: Diabolik (1968). The wraparound is the only piece that feels rehashed, though it’s still nicely done.

Let’s get to what’s really enticing for fans here: Vault of Horror is, at long last, available fully uncut. Horror fans know that often times literal frames can significantly impact a film’s, um, impact. This is absolutely the case with Vault, and the uncut version restores the neck tap, “odds & ends”, the result of a hammer blow and the aftermath of losing one’s hands. After watching the film for the first time, I cannot imagine having these crucial scenes trimmed. The big payoff in at least two of these stories would be greatly diminished had Scream Factory not made all the effort possible to make sure the film's integrity was restored.

Tales looks absolutely marvelous, with a sharp 1.78:1 1080p image that is outstanding. Definition is strong, thanks to the impeccable print from which it was sourced. Colors appear vibrant and strong; just look at the kaleidoscope of hues on display in Joan Collin’s home during the first story. Contrast handles well, though black levels do sporadically look a little hazy. Shadow delineation is perhaps the image’s only deficient area, with moving images nearly completely lost in dark shadows. But, thankfully, that issue crops up only once or twice. Surprisingly, there’s even a decent level of depth to the picture.

Vault also features a 1.78:1 1080p image, though it’s just a bit below Tales in terms of clarity. The print looks pretty clean, as expected given the work Scream Factory put into it. The biggest difference between the two films is Vault simply isn’t as sharp, often looking a tad softer than Tales. Grain is present and aids in a filmic look, with only minor specks appearing occasionally. Colors are saturated nicely, and black levels are stable.

Rarely does Scream Factory disappoint in the audio department, and neither of the English DTS-HD MA 2.0 tracks is problematic. Both Tales and Vault enjoy strong fidelity, with excellently balanced dialogue, notable depth & range for each of their respective scores, and sound effects that carry a real weight to them. Subtitles on both films are included in English.

Don’t act so surprised there’s virtually nothing in the way of bonus features; Scream Factory said on their Facebook page that nearly all of the budget for this release went into making sure Vault of Horror was presented uncut. Film always takes precedence over supplements, but they did sneak a couple of features onto Vault. Also, if you call it a bonus, there are actually three versions of Vault of Horror included.

Tales from the Crypt holds no bonus material, but Vault of Horror includes the following:

The film’s theatrical trailer, presented in black & white, and an alternate title sequence, this one carrying the Tales from the Crypt II title.

Most fans will likely forego watching either cut included here, but for the sake of completists Vault of Horror is included in both the PG-rated theatrical version and a rare open-matte version of the BFI uncut master.

GODZILLA-THON #12 - Godzilla vs. Gigan (1972)

After the "disaster" - according to producer Tomoyuki Tanaka - that was Godzilla vs. Hedorah, work was swiftly underway to produce a new Godzilla film that hewed closer to the tried and true formula. Rather than allow someone else new to the series to have creative control, Tanaka brought back director Jun Fukuda, who had already enjoyed moderate success with his two previous Godzilla pictures Godzilla vs. The Sea Monster and Son of Godzilla. This entry, Godzilla vs. Gigan, would be the first of three pictures in a row he did for Toho. Gone were heavy messages and social commentary; this was to be a return to the plot lines that Tanaka felt worked best: alien invasion and mind control, featuring a roster of top monsters. The script went through a number of changes before deciding upon exactly who those monsters would be, with names like Varan and Rodan in the mix at one point. There was also talk of drafting some new kaiju into the fold, giving Godzilla some new adversaries to combat. Eventually, the screenwriters settled on having Godzilla team up with his old buddy, Anguirus, who just had a new suit made for 1968's Destroy All Monsters. On the opposing side, the golden space dragon, King Ghidorah, would be paired up with a new villain, the cybernetic, cosmic, cyclopean, curved-claw chicken from outer space, Gigan.

The aliens this time around are human-sized cockroaches who assume the form of people that have recently died. They operate a massive playground known as World Children's Land, where a massive Godzilla tower has been erected as the centerpiece control tower. Their plan is to use a series of "Action Control Tapes" to manipulate space monsters King Ghidorah and Gigan to destroy the Earth so they can inhabit it because their home world is dying. Gengo, a freelance artist who gets a gig with the company, stumbles upon one of their tapes and plays it, drawing concern from Godzilla and Anguirus on nearby Monster Island. After the two have a conversation - yes, a monster conversation - Anguirus decides to go investigate, drawing the fire of the military upon arrival. So, he takes off back to monster Island to let Godzilla know something is going down and Earth needs their help. Ghidorah and Gigan enter our atmosphere and promptly begin to smash everything in sight just before Godzilla and Anguirus arrive to challenge them. The fight eventually moves back to World Children's Land, where the aliens have concealed a massive laser inside the Godzilla tower. This weapon seriously neutralizes Big G, and just when it looks like he may be down for the count Gengo and his crew of hippie radicals send an elevator full of explosives up the tower, annihilating the controls and every alien inside. With the laser death ray compromised, Godzilla regains his composure, confers with Anguirus, and then proceeds to deliver a crate of whoop ass to both Ghidorah and Gigan, forcing them both to retreat back to the cold vacuum of space.

A chief complain about this film is that it relies too heavily on stock footage, which is absolutely true. This was Teruyoshi Nakano's second film as special effects supervisor after Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1971), but there was only so much he could do with the limited budget this film was afforded. It's confusing as to why so much stock footage was utilized because they clearly had the required costumes for the shoot. It isn't like Ghidorah was added in using the power of film editing; the suit was on set! There are clips from numerous productions spliced in, including Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, Invasion of Astro-Monster, Destroy All Monsters, and even non-Godzilla properties like Rodan and War of the Gargantuas. Needless to say, the fight scenes often appear to have been hastily cobbled together. It's bad enough to do this because Godzilla fans will immediately notice the suits aren't matching up between shots, but a couple fights foolishly use daytime footage during a nighttime battle, and no amount of color correction can fix such a glaring, gaping hole. And, again, Toho's actions here only hurt the film. The suits for all four monsters were on set, ready to shoot, so why not just do whatever you can with what you've got? The tag team battles that were shot for this film came off beautifully, featuring some of the best multi-monster mayhem since Destroy All Monsters. This would be the last time the SoshingekiGoji suit was used as the hero costume for a film, having previously appeared in the prior three pictures. The suit was in a state of disrepair, likely why so much footage was reused for this film, and in some scenes you can clearly see pieces of it are coming undone and looking a bit shoddy. Godzilla even appears to be sporting the eye injury he received from Hedorah.

Speaking of the battles, this is the first entry to show Godzilla bleed when attacked. Previous special effects supervisor Eiji Tsuburaya resisted the urge to show open wounds, fearing it would scare many of the young children who had become fond of Godzilla. Nakano clearly didn't share the same sentiment - he had no qualms with temporarily blinding Godzilla in his fight against Hedorah, and here he allows Gigan to draw blood twice. Even Anguirus isn't safe, running headfirst (kind of a stupid move) into Gigan's power-saw stomach. Having seen the film dozens of times as a kid and an adult, I can see where both special effects men were coming from. It was terrifying to see Godzilla bleed when I was a youngster, my mind immediately drawing the conclusion that he was going to be killed since nothing else had made him bleed in the past. Now, older & wiser, I find it simply imbues the film with extra tension that hadn't been employed before. There's a dreadful sense that Godzilla & Anguirus might be defeated by these cosmic scoundrels, though in the back of our minds we all know nothing is taking Godzilla down.

This would be the final time that legendary actor Haruo Nakajima donned the Godzilla suit. He had been toiling away under every iteration of the suit since its inception, masterfully perfecting his craft to add a sense of graceful power to Godzilla's movements. The end of his tenure marked almost 20 years of embodying Japan's most famous monster.

Also making his final appearance: King Ghidorah, who would remain dormant on movie screens until his rebirth nearly 20 years later, in 1991, when he was once again pitted against Godzilla. 

Akira Ifukube "returned" to his scoring duties for this entry. "Returned" is in quotations because the entirety of his work is re-purposed from his efforts on other Toho films, not just pre-existing Godzilla tracks. Only the most eagle-eyed, hardcore fans would be able to tell, though, since Ifukube had a tendency to reprise his most common themes throughout the series, making it nearly impossible to know if a piece of music was new or old. Tanaka did state that he wanted this film to be a return to form for Godzilla, and using his trademark themes was a surefire way to see that happened.

Godzilla didn't continue his upwards ascent after this film as Tanaka had planned, because the next in the series is often considered one of the worst right alongside All Monsters Attack. Released the following year, Godzilla vs. Megalon is another entry that shoehorns Godzilla into a pre-existing story, uses stock footage, and is usually credited with the public's perception of Godzilla as a form of children's entertainment and nothing more.