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SATAN'S BLACK WEDDING (1975)
CRIMINALLY INSANE (1975) aka CRAZY
FAT ETHEL
Directed by Nick Millard aka Nick
Philips
Retro Shock-O-Rama/ei Cinema DVD
Reviewed 10.06.05
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba
THE FILMS
In fourth grade, my art class was
given a paper mache assignment.
Anything was fair game. While other
kids tinkered away on ferraris and
rainbows, there was only one option
for me: a bloody alligator. Upon
completion, my little guy closely
resembled a frog with rigor mortis
and crooked teeth. My teacher patted
me on the back and my Mom removed
it from my shelf following my strategic,
all-seeing placement. Regardless
of my project's retardo appearance,
I was proud. I have to wonder if
director Nick Millard has had a
similar experience.
Mostly known for his sexploitation
work during the late 60s and early
70s, the psyeudonym-wracked Nick
Millard turned his attention to
zero budget horror in 1975. Bow
your head and be thankful for that
decision. After spending five minutes
in the company of Satan's Black
Wedding, the kickoff Satanic
vampire film in Millard's horror
queue, you'll know exactly what
I mean. Taking the abnormal route,
Mr. M churned out a series of crude,
homemade, hour-long fever dreams,
experimental in nature and marvelously
bent. If there was ever an argument
against leaving a schismatic auteur
to his own devices, it will now
be squelched.
Razor blades, green shag, and plastic
fangs; all in a day's work when
you're planning for Satan's
Black Wedding. Young actor
Mark returns to his hometown of
Monterey, California, to investigate
the apparent suicide of kid sis
Nina. After investigating the blood
soaked crime scene with the cops
(only natural!), Mark meets up with
Jean, a bookstore owner that was
helping Nina write a "vile"
tome on Satanic rituals. All the
while, a vampire cult, led by the
evil mustachioed Priest, gorge themselves
on various weirdies. Mark and Jean
get it on and begin to unravel the
mystery, but are they too late?!
The wedding bells toll.
With its warbly piano score, picture
postcard locations, and abrupt climax,
Satan's Black Wedding feels
like a self-contained slice of a
bigger pie that doesn't exist. We
jump right in with the bloody shock
of the opening minutes and the displacement
doesn't let up. It's a trick that
works to the film's advantage. Both
the brief runtime (61 minutes) and
the reliance on cheap, exaggerated
violence grease things along when
the plot loses steam. Millard then
takes the cake with his awkward
close ups, jarring edits, and illogical
shadows. Not once did I lose interest
in what was going on. More frequently,
I was impressed by how perfect it
all really was; creepy and amateurishly
fresh, even thirty years later.
As a reel to reel tape machine crawled
to a standstill over the ending
title card, my assumptions were
correct: Nick Phillips is a trash
virtuoso. Sophomore slump, say your
prayers.
Extend a hand to Ethel Jankowski.
Be careful though, 'cause she might
eat it or lop it off; that's what
happens when you're Criminally
Insane. After some silent shock
therapy, obese Ethel (Priscilla
Alden) returns with her Grandma
to their shared two flat in San
Francisco. Doc's orders: lose some
weight. When Grammy empties the
fridge and bolts the pantry to help
curb Ethel's intake, our hero pops
her top and the bloodshed begins.
Soon after, Ethel's prostitute sister
shows up for a few days, with her
fey Hollywood pimp in tow. It's
all eat, kill, eat, kill, eat, kill,
cocaine, and then "I'm gonna
watch Gunsmoke." And that's
just a taste.
Wow. Equal parts depressing, ludicrous,
and liberating, Criminally Insane
made my eyes bleed with joy. It's
like a playskool version of The
Honeymoon Killers by way of
Frederick Friedel's Axe
with just a hint of John Waters,
filled with unlikable characters,
scummy locations, and the thickest
paint-gore this side of Sherwin
Williams. The techniques on display
in the same year's Satan's Black
Wedding are multiplied ten
times over. Edits rip through like
hot scotch for the entire 61 minutes.
The camera never sits completely
still. Awkward slow motion and strange
objects somehow become important.
And how about those actors? So fake,
they're real; French New Wave meets
Bill Kerwin for doughnuts and they
hit it off splendidly. The grit
is everywhere, from the
racist comments to the dirty/clean
sex scenes, which kick off with
the romantic lines "You need
a good beating once in awhile...all
women do. You especially."
Basically, Criminally Insane
is an impossibly great time, a paragon
of trash entertainment. Now if Ethel
would only share some of those 'Nilla
Wafers...
After thirty years of complete obscurity,
DVD has made it possible to easily
catch a glimpse at Nick Millard's
bloody alligators. If I were him,
I'd dust off a primo spot on my
shelf and be very, very proud.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Both films are newly transferred
from 35 mm film elements, appearing
in their original 1.33:1 shooting
ratio. Obscure, low budget wonders
that they are (Criminally
was Millard’s biggest budget
ever at $30,000), the prints are
expectedly rough. Thank goodness
for that. If you take away the grain,
hiss, speckles, and static, you’re
left with two films with clear cut
identity problems. Satan’s
Black Wedding appears a bit
rougher than Criminally Insane,
but both feature exaggerated colors
and sharp clarity. The mono sound
is a bit too tweaked on Satan's,
but you’ll get used to it.
Regardless, it’s high time
to retire any previous home video
versions of these films; they'll
never look better.
EXTRAS
The generous supplements can be
broken down into two categories:
stuff you’ll love and stuff
that’ll make you droopy. First,
the engaging extras. “Black
Wedding Interview With Nick Philips”
runs five minutes and features the
now 63 year old Millard/Philips
discussing his first horror film.
Nick is down to earth, has a great
sense of humor, and reveals some
interesting aspects of his life
at the time of filming (try foreclosing
on your house in order to shoot
a film on for size). “A Criminally
Insane Interview With Nick Philips”
is next. Like the previous featurette,
this 7 minute interview intersperses
clips with great comments by Millard:
"This one was a step up from
the gutter to the curb." Next
up is "A Look Back At Criminally
Insane With Nick Philips and Priscilla
Alden," which features director
and star reminiscing on the production,
with a little help from Nick's producer-wife
Irmi. Also included are the excellent
original theatrical trailers for
both films and a new trailer for
Slime City, another DVD
release from Retro-Shock.
Now for a real test. Should you
be so brave, you can throw on Criminally
Insane II, the 1987 shot on
video sequel that showcases roughly
30 minutes of footage from the first
film. The other 31 minutes? Ethel
now lives in a halfway house, watches
a guy touching a wall, and sleeps
inside while someone else runs in
place on the lawn. I'm not kidding
around. It's a completist's treat,
but boredom seeps from every pore.
Good luck.
Rounding things out are a pair of
commentary tracks for both feature
films, courtesy of Nick and Irmi
Millard and a moderator named 42nd
Street Pete. I'm all for commentary
tracks, but this deuce is somewhat
lethal. After the first ten minutes
of each track, our parties quickly
run out of steam, replacing somewhat
interesting recollections with minutes
of silence and screen-specific comments.
I made it through, but had to multitask
in the meantime. Stick to the solid
featurettes and leave it at that.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Nick Millard's early dips into backyard
horror yielded two of the most idiosyncratic
trash films of all time. They're
both loose masterpieces, filled
with quirks that continue to reveal
more fully after each and every
viewing. Obviously, this is a must
own release. So own it. |
The sophisticate
Very nice
Wanted: Steamer
Lunch!
Our girl Ethel
Wanted: Swiffer
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