When a 7,500 ton freighter is mysteriously lost in the South Seas off Japan, the authorities are baffled. Soon afterwards, a fishing boat is destroyed in the same manner: from an underwater explosion. It is a mine? An underwater volcano? There are only a few survivors and one of them claims to have seen a creature in the water. Some elderly citizens immediately claim that it was Godzilla, a creature that lives in the sea and occasionally surfaces to feed on mankind when food in the ocean is scarce.

Sure enough, late one stormy night, something destroys several houses in a village in such a way that it could not have been the result of natural causes, like a hurricane. Director Ishiro Honda wisely prolongs the first actual appearance of Godzilla for 21 minutes, cleverly employing traditional horror film techniques to create tension and build anticipation. We never actually see the monster in the initial attacks – just a hint of him but nevertheless his presence looms large, much like with King Kong (1933). When we finally do catch a good glimpse of the creature, it is little more than a head but it is a fantastic shot that effectively establishes his massive scale and is more than enough to send the locals running for their lives.

The country’s leading scientist Professor Yamane (Shimura) theorizes that Godzilla is the result of atomic testing, a mutation that exists to punish his country for dabbling in the dangerous waters of atomic energy and radiation. Naturally, the Japanese government wants to destroy Godzilla but Yamane respects the beast and wants to study it. Yamane represents a sobering humanistic voice that mirrored Honda’s own beliefs and acts as a sharp contrast to the government’s foolhardy shoot first, ask questions later attitude.

Look past the guy in the rubber suit and the obvious miniatures and you’ve got atmospheric black and white cinematography by Masao Tamai that is haunting, especially the night scenes with an almost silhouetted Godzilla destroying Tokyo that is a devastating site to behold.

Godzilla was born from the ashes of A-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki – the fallout of which Honda witnessed first hand. In fact, the film’s opening scene, where a freighter is destroyed by an explosion from under the water, was a reference to an incident in which a tuna trawler got too close to an H-bomb test courtesy of the United States and its crew became sick with radiation poisoning. With this knowledge, it’s hard not to see Godzilla’s swath of destruction through urban Japan as a metaphor for the A-bomb and a powerful critique of the dangers of atomic radiation. This is what elevates Godzilla above countless other monster movies from the 1950’s and has inspired countless sequels that have transformed the giant monster into a pop culture icon. The Japanese version is the way this film was meant to be seen with all of the stark footage of the dead, maimed and shell-shocked and numerous the A-bomb references – something that is missing from subsequent sequels that have turned into admittedly entertaining battle royales.

Special Features:

A few years ago, Classic Media released an excellent special edition of Godzilla with an unimpressive transfer and a decent collection of supplemental material, none of which has been carried over to the Criterion Collection’s new and improved edition so completists may want to hold onto that previous incarnation. As you would expect, Criterion’s transfer is near flawless and a significant improvement on the Classic Media version, making it more than worth the upgrade.

The first disc features an audio commentary by film historian David Kalat who provides a nice mix of analysis and production information. He goes into great detail examining the relationships between the characters and their purpose in the film. Kalat also touches upon the difference between the Japanese and American names for Godzilla. He also good-naturedly addresses the absurdity of the oxygen destroyer and other scientific inaccuracies. At times, he comes across as a little too enthusiastic but this is tempered by his encyclopedia knowledge of all things Godzilla.

“Photographic Effects” features effects director Kawakita and effects photographer Motoyoshi Tomioka revealing how some of the special effects for Godzilla were done with examples from unused footage. They point out the extensive use of matte paintings and composite shots.

Japanese film critic Tadao Sato examines Godzilla’s role in Japanese culture. He remembers seeing the film when it first came out and recalls his first impressions. He also points out how aspects of the film evoked memories of the atomic bomb attacks on Japan.

“The Unluckiest Dragon” is a 2011 audio essay about the Daigo Fukuryu Maru fishing boat tragedy that inspired parts of Godzilla. The crew witnessed a powerful U.S. atomic bomb test and became sick with radiation poisoning. This essay examines the socio-political implications of the incident.

Also included is a theatrical trailer.

For completists, both versions – the original 98 minute Japanese version and the 80 minute Hollywood version, entitled Godzilla, King of the Monsters – are included, each on their own disc, but after seeing the original it is really hard to go back to the other. American movie producers acquired the North American rights and promptly Americanized the movie, inserting a reporter played by Raymond Burr with only 60 minutes of the original film intact, the rest was cut and new footage shot. Criterion has also included a trailer and David Kalat returns for a commentary where he starts off by providing the brief backstory to the nuclear arms race between Russia and the U.S. He discusses the Americanization of Godzilla including its unusual structure of flashbacks, which he explains may actually be reminiscent of film noir.

There is an interview with actor Akira Takarada who talks about his experience working on Godzilla. He talks about his initial impressions of the screenplay and tells several filming anecdotes, including working with the legendary Takashi Shimura (The Seven Samurai).

Godzilla performer Haruo Nakajima (who played the creature in 12 films) talks about the challenges he faced playing the iconic monster. He recalls being told to study King Kong for how to move like a mythical creature. He talks about what it was like moving inside the suit and how he had to adjust his performance.

Features effects technicians Yoshio Irie and Eizo Kaimai talk about their work on the film. They start at the project’s origins and go all the way through production providing invaluable recollections on how the various effects were achieved.

Composer Akira Ifukube talks about his long, illustrious career and, of course, his groundbreaking work on Godzilla. He talks about his humble beginnings in forestry to how he eventually got involved in scoring films.

It’s the last night of a drive-in and for the last hurrah the owner – Cecil B. Kaufman (Riehle) – is showing four obscure splatter films. He laments the death of public movie-going to a portrait of Orson Welles (shades of that scene in Tim Burton’s Ed Wood) thanks to rise in popularity of home video and hi-tech home theater systems. First up is Wadzilla, directed by Adam Rifkin (Detroit Rock City), a quirky mash-up of a high school sex ed film and a 1950’s monster movie spoof about a mild-mannered guy named Miles Munson (Rifkin) who suffers from abnormal sperm. His doctor (Wise) convinces him to try an experimental new medicine. However, every time Miles gets aroused, he experiences intense pain in his balls. Naturally, he goes on a blind date with a buxom beauty. During the course of their date he produces a large sperm, which quickly grows into a Godzilla-sized monstrosity that threatens New York City.

There is a funky mix of crude CGI, old school rear projection and stop motion animation that is intentionally made to look phony. The cast plays it straight while spouting amusingly naughty double entrendres. Ray Wise is a lot of fun as a straight-laced scientist that treats Miles and Eric Roberts pops up as a grizzled army general that attempts to defeat the beast.

I Was A Teenage Werebear, directed by Tim Sullivan (2001 Maniacs), sends up the teen horror films of the ‘50s while also satirizing the angst-ridden Twilight films. James Dean wannabe Ricky (Lockhart) is a frustrated teenager. He and his girlfriend aren’t getting along because he’s not sexually attracted to her like he is to Talon, the Marlon Brando-esque (with a dash of Elvis Presley swagger) biker who saves him from being run over. They bond over wrestling in gym class but after Talon bites Ricky on the butt he experiences strange urges. Ricky finds himself turning into a werebear. This film takes the sexual subtext of the ‘50s horror films and brings it right out into the open – in this case, the homoeroticism of two good looking guys being attracted to each other. Sullivan also brings elements of the musical as characters break into song and dance (both badly) when they want to express their feelings.

The Diary of Anne Frankenstein, directed by Adam Green (Hatchet), merges the Nazi SS women exploitation film with Frankenstein (1931) with a healthy dash of Mel Brooks. Hitler (Moore) recovers the diary of Dr. Frankenstein and with it he patches together parts of dead Jews into a large Hassidic monster (Hodder). Like Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror (2007), this segment is intentionally made to look like a scratchy, old print complete with splices in the soundtrack. It is also shot completely in black and white and subtitled because everyone speaks German. Joel David Moore (Avatar) is absolutely hilarious as a ridiculously inept Fuhrer while Kane Hodder shows a surprisingly capacity for humor as the monster.

Finally, Deathecation starts to unspool and it is a truly disgusting and hilarious pisstake on Pier Paolo Passolini’s Salo, or 120 Days of Sodom (1975) as if reinterpreted by Matt Stone and Trey Parker. The explosive uses of poop is on display and thankfully this is quickly interrupted by the real fourth segment, Zom-B-Movie, directed by Joe Lynch (Wrong Turn 2: Dead End), which takes us back to the present with one of the drive-in employees turned into a zombie with his contagious goo getting into the popcorn butter, which in turn infects several of the patrons until we have a mini-zombie apocalypse on our hands and Kaufman teams up with a young teenage couple for a movie-quoting orgy cum slaughter.

Chillerama is made by film lovers for film lovers and is unafraid to offend any and everyone in the grand, tasteless tradition of the Zucker Abrams Zucker film Kentucky Fried Movie (1977). What saves it from being simply a puerile exercise in excess and toilet humor is its obvious affection for the drive-in movie experience and the kinds of films these places used to show in the 1970’s and into the 1980’s. However, with the rise of multiplexes and the recent revival of 3-D, drive-ins have become an extinct breed, which is too bad as there is something unique about the whole experience of seeing a film from you car with one’s family and/or friends that can never be replicated in a multiplex or at home.

Special Features:

There is an audio commentary by the film’s directors: Adam Green, Adam Rifkin, Tim Sullivan and Joe Lynch. They start off by giving shout-outs to the people who put the opening credits together. After a bit of chaotic banter, they settle down and talk about the genesis of the film. Each one of them naturally dominates their respective segment and talks about how they came up with the idea for it, filming anecdotes, and so on. This is an often funny and engaging track.

“The Making of The Diary of Anne Frankenstein” features director Green talking about its origins. He was actually given the title by the other directors and went about creating a story to go with it. He made sure that it was so over the top that it could be taken seriously. There are some priceless behind the scenes footage as we learn that most of Joel David Moore’s dialogue was complete gibberish.

There are several deleted scenes from Wadzilla, which are in rough form before the special effects were added, which is actually pretty funny.

“Full Moon Fever: The Making of I Was A Teenager Werebear” traces the origins of Chillerama. Rifkin and Sullivan had worked together on Detroit Rock City (1999) and grew up on horror anthology films as well as Famous Monsters magazine. Sullivan takes us through the genesis of his segment including the semi-controversial casting of a gay porn star in the role of Ricky. Also included are deleted scenes.

There are also deleted scenes for Zom-B-Movie.

“Famous Monsters” sees the four directors talking about their love for this legendary magazine and the origins of Chillerama. They see their film as a love letter to horror anthologies and drive-in B-movies. These guys are obviously good friends by the way they crack jokes and banter back and forth.

“Salfen Comic-Con Interview” is a short featurette with the four directors at a comic convention. They talk about their respective segments and banter with each other.

Finally, there is a trailer for Chillerama and two of the segments.

A trading ship picks up a mysterious man adrift at sea. His name is Edward Parker (Arlen) and he was on a ship that sunk. The ship that rescues him is chock full of exotic animals headed for an unnamed island owned by the enigmatic Dr. Moreau (Laughton). The surly captain (Fields) tosses Parker onto Moreau’s cargo ship headed for the island. The first thing that strikes Parker is the oddness of Moreau’s crew who resemble cave men – the missing link between ape and man. At first, Moreau seems like a refined chap. He gives Parker a tour of the island as casually as if he were showing him around his house, only he occasionally scatters the inhabitants with a whip. Moreau is a scientist who experiments on animals in an attempt to transform them into human beings.

He decides to introduce Parker to Lota, the Panther Woman (Burke) and see how she reacts to him. Clearly he sees Parker as nothing more than a new variable in his vast experiment. Rather disconcertingly, Parker hears the occasional screams of agony coming from the “House of Pain,” the laboratory where Moreau creates his animal-human hybrids. It is a striking scene of sadism and pain, which still holds up today.

Charles Laughton infuses a bemused gleam in the eye of Moreau but we soon find out it is the gleam of a mad man. He is fantastic as the brilliant scientist who has lost touch with reality and is consumed by his own ego. He plays a deliciously evil man who ambitiously meddles in things he shouldn’t and torments his experiments. Richard Arlen plays Parker as the film’s audience surrogate and voice of reason in a world gone mad. He’s outraged at the audacity of Moreau’s actions, most alarmingly, his notion of dabbling in God’s domain.

Island of Lost Souls is a thinking man’s horror film – one that wrestles with notions of evolution and experimentation as well as the ethics involved with both. Some times scientific advances are made without much thought about their ramifications and in the film this notion is embodied by Moreau. It is a story that has fascinated people for years. Wells’ book was adapted again in 1977 with Burt Lancaster and again, most notoriously, in 1996 with the production-plagued version starring Marlon Brando and Val Kilmer, but the 1932 film is still the best by far.

Special Features:

There is an audio commentary by film historian Gregory Mank. He points out that the film tested the limits of just how far a horror film could go in pre-code Hollywood. Paramount, the studio responsible for it, was interested in making more daring, sexier films and really pushed the limits with this one. Mank gives us a brief production history, telling some fascinating filming anecdotes in this engaging and informative track.

There is an entertaining conversation between filmmaker John Landis, legendary makeup artist Rick Baker and horror film fan Bob Burns. They cover horror films in the 1930’s before shifting the focus to Island of Lost Souls. They point out that it was an A-movie with a large budget that did not do well when it was released. Baker says that this is best version of Wells’ book and marvels at the makeup effects. Burns provides fascinating details about the film’s makeup artists.

Film historian David J. Skal talks about H.G. Wells and his unique brand of science fiction. He wrote politicized genre fiction. Skal also discusses Victoria era horror literature, which was often pre-occupied with evolution.

Filmmaker Richard Stanley attempted to adapt Wells’ book in 1996 but was fired early in the production. He talks about what attracted him to the source material, including several of its themes, which he says are still relevant today. The filmmaker talks about how the book differs from the various film versions and also discusses his attempt to adapt it, including sneaking back onto the set after being fired.

Gerald Casale and Mark Mothersbaugh, founding members of the band Devo, talk about the influence of the film on their music. It spoke to and made them acutely aware of the times in which they lived in. Also included is their 1976 short film, which featured Devo songs, “Secret Agent Man” and “Jocko Homo.”

Also included is a Stills Gallery of makeup tests and promotional shots.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

Much like Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), the opening credits play over clouds moving through the sky, which establishes a subtle, ominous tone right from the start. A couple out walking one night are nearly killed by a rocketship that crash lands nearby. There is a cool-looking shot of the craft sticking out of the ground that is ever-so creepy as well. The Ministry of Defense arrives on the scene and Dr. Bernard Quatermass (Donlevy) immediately takes control, barking orders.

He’s headed an experimental program that sent three astronauts into outer space. Only one has managed to survive and Victor Carroon (Wordsworth) stumbles from the wreckage before passing out. The other two are inexplicably missing. Victor is in a state of shock but manages to utter the words, “help me.” Victor’s wife Judith (Dean) and a friend manage to sneak the astronaut out of the hospital where he is under observation (what kind of security do they have?) but he kills the man by literally draining the life out of him. Victor is soon loose on the streets of London with Quatermass and his team in hot pursuit.

Brian Donlevy plays Quatermass as a no-nonsense man of science who, at times, speaks like a character out of a Mickey Spillane novel with such choice tough guy talk like, “I’m a scientist not a fortune teller predicting the future.” Another gem comes a little later on when he tells a fretting Judith, “There’s no room for personal feelings in science!” Richard Wordsworth is quite good as the tortured astronaut rapidly losing his humanity as he finds himself cursed with an affliction that forces him to drain the life from others. He doesn’t any have any dialogue but his expressive eyes and body language convey his character’s tortured emotions.

Guest employs several effective moments of dread, like how the camera gradually moves in on a shot of bushes at night where Victor is hiding and then reveals only a glimpse of his face. Guest also creates an air of authenticity by shooting largely on location, which only enhances the atmosphere of the film.

Like many science fiction films of the 1950’s, The Quatermass Xperiment is a parable about the hubris of science and how we are subsequently punished for overstepping our bounds. Many films from this decade dealt with threats from outer space and this one is no different. One can even see its influence in a film like Tobe Hooper’s Lifeforce (1985), which features vampiric aliens from outer space that drain the life from their victims. Filmmaker John Carpenter has also cited this film as a major influence on his own work.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Dylan Dog (Routh) is a New Orleans-based private investigator who specializes in paranormal cases. However, he has since retired from investigating things that go bump in the night and has shifted his focus to cheating spouses with the help of his assistant Marcus Adams (Huntington). When her father is killed by what appears to be a werewolf, Elizabeth Ryan (Briem) contacts Dylan who tells her that he’s not interested in the case. That is, until Marcus is brutally murdered in their office and this compels Dylan to investigate the Ryan murder. He finds the culprit and the implications could result in a war between werewolves, led by Gabriel (a sorely underused Stormare), and vampires, led by Vargas (a suave Diggs) who peddles vampire blood to humans and plans to ascend to the top of the food chain.

There are amusing touches sprinkled throughout the film, like the local morgue run by two zombies, or the support group for the living dead, or the body shop for zombies, a place where they can get replacement parts. There is also the occasional funny bit of dialogue, like when Dylan informs Marcus that he’s a zombie: “The good news is that the condition is … uh, manageable.” However, the film needed more of these moments.

I enjoyed Brandon Routh in Superman Returns (2006) and always felt he got a raw deal from critics and audiences. He is quite good as Dylan, bringing a fair amount of charm and charisma to the role. He acts as our guide through the world of the film, telling us how things work and what’s going on via voiceover narration in the tried and true tradition of the detective genre. He also plays well off of Sam Huntington (the two actually appeared together in Superman Returns) and displays some decent comic timing, especially once Marcus becomes a zombie and Dylan helps him adjust to his new status. Routh seems like a nice enough guy and deserves a better film to be built around him. Sadly, he has zero chemistry with Anita Briem, his character’s love interest. She lacks the charisma to pull off the role, especially the plot twist her character undergoes late in the film. Every time she appears on screen the air seems to go out of the film, which is not good.

I haven’t read the comic book Dylan Dog is based on so I can’t say how faithful it is to its source material (reviews claim that it isn’t) but it is missing that spark, that special something that made films, like Hellboy (and its sequel) so good. At times, Dylan Dog resembles an episode of Angel or Buffy the Vampire Slayer (actually, David Boreanaz would’ve made a good Dylan Dog) and Joss Whedon’s influence casts a long shadow over this film. It’s easy to see why – with those two shows he managed to consistently balance comedy and horror while also paying tribute to many films and television programs of the genre. Unfortunately, Thomas Dean Donnelly and Joshua Oppenheimer’s screenplay is nowhere near as good and so Dylan Dog comes off as a pale imitation. That’s not to say it doesn’t have its moments – it just needed more of them. At times, it feels like the filmmakers are trying too hard to appeal to both a mainstream audience and the horror film faithful. This lack of commitment gives the film an uneven tone as it’s caught between two worlds. Dylan Dog isn’t a bad film, it just isn’t a particularly great one either and one wonders what could have been if it had someone like James Gunn (Slither) or Don Coscarelli (Bubba Ho-Tep) behind the camera – someone who maybe could’ve instilled that special something it needed or given it that edge to make it great instead of merely resemble the pilot for a failed T.V. show.

Special Features:

None.

The Lambert family has recently moved into their new home and is in the process of unpacking and getting acclimatized to their new surroundings. Josh (Wilson), the father, is a busy high school teacher, which leaves Renai (Byrne), the mother, at home to unpack and take care of their baby girl. Creepy little things start to happen, like a door moving on its own. While exploring the attic, one the Lambert boys, Dalton (Simpkins), encounters something. He falls and hits his head causing a nasty bump.

The next morning, Josh tries to wake the boy and finds him in a coma. A doctor tells him and Renai that there is no detectable brain damage and he can’t explain what has happened to their child. Three months later and Dalton is still in a coma but he’s allowed to be at home with his mother taking care of him. One day, Renai hears a strange voice on the baby monitor and rushes up to investigate but of course nothing is there but her child. Soon more weird things happen: a loud knocking on the front door, the image of a strange woman appears in their baby’s bedroom window, the once locked front door is now wide open, and so on.

These things put all kinds of stress on the Lamberts and they decide that their house must be haunted so they move to another place but strange things continue to happen which leads them to contact Elise Reiner (Shaye), a friend of Josh’s mother (Hershey) who is an expert in paranormal activity. She tells them that it isn’t the house that is haunted – it is their child, Dalton. The frequency and intensity of the scares gradually increases as the true nature of what ails Dalton is revealed and Elise gives the Lamberts the lowdown on what’s happening.

Director James Wan is very effective at establishing an unsettling mood right from the film’s spooky prologue. Taking a page out of the film’s producer, Oren Peli’s book (Paranormal Activity), he employs all sorts of tried and true jolts: doors slamming shut on their own, inhuman shadows, mischievous ghosts, and so on. The visuals are enhanced with a creepy soundscape completely with moody sound effects and an atmospheric score by Joseph Bishara. Known for gory films like Saw and Death Sentence (2007), Wan demonstrates refreshing restraint with Insidious.

Wan and long-time screenwriting partner Leigh Whannell have created a compelling and efficient scare engine that plays on some of our simplest fears – that someone close to us is in danger situation that we don’t understand. Insidious doesn’t try to reinvent the demonic possession film but instead mashes it up with the haunted house sub-genre with astral projection thrown in for good measure. The end result is an entertaining film that resides somewhere between the flashy style of Drag Me to Hell (2009) and the unsettling, white knuckle scare tactics of Paranormal Activity with engaging characters that you grow to care about over time.

Special Features:

“Horror 101: The Exclusive Seminar” features director James Wan and screenwriter Leigh Whannell talking about how they first came up with the notion of astral projection, which they hadn’t seen much in film and place it in a haunted house setting. Whannell wanted to make sure that the audience got to know and identify with the Lambert family so that they would care about what happens to them later on. He and Wan come across as intelligent and eloquent with a good knowledge of the horror genre and its conventions.

“On Set with Insidious” takes a look at the making of the film with plenty of on set footage as we see Wan working with the cast and crew. We see how one of the film’s stunts is performed and an alternate take of a scene. This extra provides some nice insights into filming.

“Insidious Entities” takes a look at the ghosts and demons that appear in the film. Wan and Whannell talk about their distinctive look and where the inspiration for some of them came from and why.

We meet Rayne (Malthe) helping out a group of resistance fighters, led by a man known as Nathaniel (Fletcher), attack a Nazi train depot looking for weapons and instead finding prisoners of war. She kills and a feeds on their Commandant, Ekart Brand (Pare) and inadvertently turns him into a vampire like herself, able to survive in sunlight. The Nazis have an experiment-happy doctor (Howard) go to work on Brand with the goal of making Hitler immortal by injecting him with vampire blood.

Ever the canny opportunist, director Uwe Boll certainly knows what sells with blood-splattered action sequences and the voluptuous Rayne engaging in a lesbian love scene with a prostitute in a bordello. As is common with all of his films, the acting ranges from competent to subpar with veteran actors like Clint Howard and Michael Pare dutifully collecting a paycheck. The dialogue is functional at best and mostly kills time between action sequences. Whereas as the first BloodRayne film (2006) had the kitschy charm of seeing the likes of Ben Kingsley, Michael Madsen and Meatloaf hamming it up with pulpy dialogue, the third installment suffers from the law of diminishing returns and instead we have the likes of Howard and Pare doing their best to sell the film’s bland dialogue.

At best, BloodRayne: The Third Reich is a silly bit of alternate history hokum as the Nazis hope vampirism will help make them the master race. Is this Boll’s version of Inglorious Basterds (2009)? If so, it is a mighty pale imitation. That being said, the action sequences are fairly well-executed and appropriately visceral with plenty of the red stuff splashing about. BloodRayne probably won’t win Boll any new fans but it is a harmless time waster that should be a SyFy Channel staple in no time.

Special Features:

“Making of BloodRayne: The Third Reich” is a fairly amusing look at the mad methods of Uwe Boll and the cast and crew that love him. Clearly the actors are aware of the kind of film they’re doing and don’t take it too seriously. Say what you will about Boll but he comes across as a savvy filmmaker who knows what he wants.

In “Interview with the Writer,” Michael Nachoff talks about his work on the film. He did a little bit of historical research but basically saw Rayne as a gunslinger akin to Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven (1992). Nachoff also talks about his writing routine, rewriting, and so on.

Also included are the official and alternate trailers.

Finally, there is an audio commentary by director Uwe Boll and writer Michael Nachoff. As you would imagine, Boll dominates the track and does not disappoint. He always envisioned a trilogy with this film set in World War II much like the video game. Unlike the Underworld and Resident Evil films, Boll didn’t want to simply repeat what he had done before and instead tackle different genres with each installment. Not afraid to speak his mind, the director dishes on the two lead actors hooking up during filming and why he couldn’t cast Kristanna Loken (she wanted too much money) in this film. He also criticizes the tough working conditions on all three films (i.e. a drunken Michael Madsen on the first one and a train station blowing up in the second one) on this admittedly amusing and entertaining track.

It is 1332 A.D. and the Crusades have been raging for years. Behmen of Bleiruck (Cage) and his friend Felson (Perlman) are Teutonic knights who fight together through a series of battles. They become disillusioned with the cause after killing women and children during a siege on a city. They end up deserting their army and strike out their own, witnessing the Black Plague that has gripped Europe. However, their past catches up with them and they are soon arrested. The Cardinal D’Ambroise (Lee) offers them a job: take a young girl (Foy) accused of being a witch, and whom they claim brought on the Black Plague, to monks that can lift the curse. They agree and enlist the help of a disgraced merchant (Graham) to guide them to the abbey.

Behmen initially feels sympathy for the girl and doubts that she is actually a witch but during the course of their journey, she does things, like cloud their minds, exhibit superhuman strength and summon a pack of wolves that certainly supports the belief she’s a witch. The perilous journey they make, including a white-knuckle crossing across a decrepit old wooden bridge, evokes a medieval version of The Wages of Fear (1953).

Nicolas Cage and Ron Perlman play well off each other and their relationship is easily the best thing about Season of the Witch. Cage is the noble hero while Perlman is his sarcastic sidekick. Both play battle-hardened veteran knights burnt out from seeing too much death and killing. The two actors do an excellent job of conveying two men who have fought together for many years, which results in a believable shorthand between them.

Dominic Sena does a nice job of creating a grim, foreboding atmosphere with help from a grungy production design that vividly recreates the time period of the Crusades. He helps raise Season of the Witch a notch above a SyFy movie of the week. It is by no means a train wreck of a film but there is nothing about it that is all that extraordinary either.

Special Features:

There are six deleted scenes and the unrated prologue. One scene adds voiceover narration to give more backstory. There is more footage of a virtually unrecognizable Christopher Lee as the plague-disfigured Cardinal. This footage explains too much or adds little to the film and was rightly cut. The unrated prologue is a little more graphic and was toned down for a PG-13 rating.

“Becoming the Demon” examines the climactic sequence and how it was achieved through CGI thanks to Tippett Studio who came up with two looks for the demon.

“On A Crusade” takes a look at how they shot the epic battles during the Crusades montage. The great Vic Armstrong was brought in to stage the fights.

There is an alternate ending which is less reliant on demonic monster imagery, which I actually prefer over the one in the final cut.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

Norman Taylor (Wyngarde) is a college psychology professor who produces the best grades from his students than the rest of his fellow teachers. So much so that he’s the odds on favorite to be named chair of the sociology department, much to the chagrin of some of the faculty and their spouses. They chide him about leading a charmed life while he openly scoffs at the practice of witchcraft and all things supernatural. However, his wife Tansy (Blair) is very superstitious and rightly so. One night, after returning home from playing bridge with friends, she finds an evil talisman hidden in the fringe of one of their lampshades. Norman soon discovers that Tansy is a witch.

Upset, Norman asks Tansy to explain herself and she recounts a time when he almost died and she was willing to give up her life so he would have lived. She started to practice witchcraft in order to protect him from evil forces at the school. Norman foolishly makes her burn all of her talismans and strange things start to happen. On the way to school one day, he is almost hit by a speeding truck. A female student claims he violated her. The stone statue of an eagle become real and tries to kill him.

Peter Wyngarde is good as the skeptical husband and how, over the course of the film, this becomes desperation as Tansy’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic. Janet Blair is even better as his wife and devout believer in the occult. Is she really a witch or merely insane? Blair fully commits herself to the role.

With endless resources on witchcraft – both historical and practical information – there is no reason for a film to be inaccurate and the screenwriters for Burn, Witch, Burn! gets it right, including all the little details and rituals for certainly spells and curses. Director Sidney Hayers employs moody noir lighting for maximum effect complete with skewed camera angles that create an unsettling atmosphere and this wonderful transfer shows off the richly textured black and white cinematography. It is the less is more school of horror that evokes the shadowy horror films of Val Lewton. For a low budget, Hayers uses these limitations to his advantage while his skill at composing the frame of action is impressive.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

The opening credits play over a series of unsettling psychedelic paintings of what appears to be an alien landscape while appropriately creepy atmospheric music by Leonard Morand sets just the right mood of dread. Queen of Blood is set in 1990 where traveling to the Moon is no problem, space stations exist there, and the powers that be are looking into exploring Venus and Mars for signs of intelligent life. Cue cool looking shots of matte paintings depicting life on these planets and footage of an alien race in shadows, which gives an ominous teaser of what’s to come.

We soon meet our hero, Allan Brenner (Saxon) as he has lunch with his girlfriend Laura James (Meredith) and two fellow astronauts, Paul Grant (Hopper) and Tony Barrata (Eitner). This gives the filmmakers a chance for some wonderfully cheesy banter but you can tell that Dennis Hopper and John Saxon aren’t taking it all that seriously. Their lunch is interrupted by an announcement by Dr. Farraday (a slumming Rathbone). He informs our heroes that they’ve finally received communication from an alien race that plans to send an ambassador to Earth.

The ambassador’s craft crashes on Mars and sends an SOS to Earth. So, Farraday sends Paul and Laura to check it out. When Paul and his crew run into trouble and find a dead alien on Mars, Alan and Tony fly there to help in the search for another alien craft. They find it and inside the sole survivor – a green-skinned female alien (Marly). While the first two thirds of Queen of Blood is all set-up, in the last third all hell breaks loose when alien queen wakes up.

It’s wild to see Dennis Hopper play such a straight-laced role, especially during this period in his career when he had been blacklisted in Hollywood and was relegated to doing American International Pictures (AIP) films for Roger Corman. Just two years later, he would direct, co-write and star in Easy Rider (1969). John Saxon, god bless him, does his best to play the square-jawed hero of the film without a hint of irony. Florence Marly has such an expressive face, which is good because as the alien queen she has no dialogue and uses her creepy smile to captivate the male astronauts. In a nice touch, she also sports a fantastic beehive hairdo that also resembles an onion!

The 1960’s representation of alien beings looks great and oddly more “alien” than a lot of contemporary alien invasion films. It may be due to the fact that the style of that decade looks so foreign to us now. There is a simplicity to their look that is refreshing and the unsettling music really helps sell the otherworldly nature of these beings. The interior of the alien spacecraft evokes the style of Mario Bava’s Planet of the Vampires, released a year earlier in 1965. I love the wonderfully clunky-looking astronaut gear – their helmets are huge and don’t move at all, restricting movement in an awkward way. There’s something great about knowing that all the special effects in Queen of Blood were done by hand. It gives everything an authentic quality. It doesn’t have the unreal artificiality of a lot of CGI – no matter how good it looks you know that what you’re seeing doesn’t exist. The hand-made sets and special effects have a clunky charm all their own and this is one of the pleasures of this film.

Special Features:

None.