DR. BLACK, MR. HYDE (1976) Directed by William Crain
VCI VHS
THE FILM
If you're white, rich, and a closeted bigot, avoid this film. It'll break your heart.
Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde shows us the world; one that the upper echelon will find hard to stomach. When a pimp named Silky sniffs cocaine on the edge of his switchblade, those saps will think twice about driving a Lexus downtown. When a prostitute snorts, "I gotta call my Momma, muthafucka," a frantic search for their suburb's latest demographics report will commence. Finally, when Mr. Hyde flattens a whore with his car, they'll check on the kids upstairs. You know it's true. This is real life. And it's gonna bite 'em. Having doubts? William Crain also directed Blacula. Again, this is real life. And it's gonna bite 'em.
By day, Dr. Henry Pride (the iconic Bernie Casey) runs the "Free Clinic & Thrift Shop" in Watts. By night, he fools around with beakers and searches for a cure to Cirrhosis of the liver. His drive is inconsequential. Feeling the need for a "human factor," Doc Pride begins testing his serum on random homeless patients, then himself. Hookers, gangway! Henry is transformed into a dusty Incredible Bulk with one thing on his mind: Extinguishing the childhood demons. Therefore, all ladies of the evening must be destroyed. But what happens when Linda, the harlot with a heart of gold, tugs on Hank's heartstrings? I'll betcha five Judo chops you'll never guess.
Even though it's bursting with nasty dive bars, sleazy violence, random nudity, hilariously dumb racial innuendos, and timeless repartee ("Nigga, please."), Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde still manages to knock you into a dull coma at the end of 90 minutes. Impossible? Not quite. For every three minute Mr. Hyde rampage, there's a resultant twenty minute bout of jabber. The flat, gloomy direction fortifies the boredom. Music cues range from expected Stratocaster chicka to Dr. Shrinker-esque dramatics. Basically, the "fuck 'em and run" attitude you'd assume to find in a low budget, blaxploitation horror film from 1976 is there, but the prominence is not. Still, Mr. Hyde has a salt and pepper afro and drives a Rolls Royce. That's kind of neat to see.
What -- a couple of rich, white no-necks are still hanging around? Just holler for Slinky. He does make house calls, you know.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Not so hot. The print is faded, scratchy, and filled with emulsion lines and jump cuts. Colors are almost completely washed out. Maybe this tape spent a few years in Dr. Pride's Thrift Shop before landing on my shelf.
EXTRAS
Before the feature, a screen reads "Previews". We get two ultra dirty trailers for the blaxploitation hits Black Shampoo and The Bad Bunch. One of them rhymes "sass" with "ass" in its tagline; just like Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde. Imagine that!
FINAL THOUGHTS
If you choose to watch Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde, a small amount of garbage satisfaction will float your way. However, the cocaine will cost you extra. If you want Slinky's number, lemme know (he just returned from kicking some ass in the suburbs).
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 07.13.06 | 
(Trailer title screen shown; no title screen appears in the film)
Should he or shouldn't he?
Dive In(n)
Hello, nurse!
The Lou Factor
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