Recommendations :: Arrow Video Showcases the Celluloid Crime of the Century with a New Deluxe Edition of Wes Craven's Last House on the Left (1972)

On the eve of her 17th birthday, Mari Collingwood and her bestest friend, Phyllis Stone, set off to the big city to attend a rock concert. Attempting to pick up some marijuana on the way, the pair wind up kidnapped by a group of vicious crooks. Gagged and bound, these young women are bundled into a car trunk and driven deep into the woods, where the gang of sadists subject them to a terrifying ordeal of sexual humiliation, torture and their eventual murder. But this is only half the tale, as this pack of degenerates unwittingly seek shelter in the home of Mari’s parents after the deadly deed is done, who manage to piece together who these people are, what they’ve done to their daughter, and embark on a long night of terrible vengeance.

Originally intended to be something a little more akin to one of Herschell Gordon Lewis' gorenographic epics like 2000 Maniacs (1964) or The Wizard of Gore (1970) -- only with a lot more skin, fledgling filmmakers Wes Craven (writer/director) and Sean S. Cunningham (producer) were commissioned by the Boston-based Hallmark Releasing, who regionally distributed films through their own theater chains -- mostly violent foreign fright flicks, softcore porn, and other drive-in fare -- to make them a new tits ‘n’ ass flick. And the only caveat was to make it as violent and as bloody as possible.

Craven and Cunningham took Hallmark’s money (and most likely pocketed some of it) and proved up to the task, deciding if violence is what they wanted then that is what they'd get; unsanitized and unfiltered for the unflinching eye of the camera, tapping into something on a primordial level where the lines between good and evil, and sadly, what constitutes the difference between actual comedy-relief and insipid buffoonery, blur together like that eye-testing contraption at the DMV, whose viewfinder is totally scummed over with discarded DNA after decades of use and abuse that you really don’t want to look into but you kinda have to.

Now, I admit Last House on the Left (1972) isn't particularly all that good as it burps and hiccups along like the first-time film effort it was; but you cannot deny that when it works -- and I think it works more often than it does not, the film really strikes at a raw nerve. You know, like taking a chisel to your front teeth -- CLANG! -- leaving them shattered, broken, and exposed to the open air to pulse and throb and ache a good long while after young Mari (Peabody) and Phyllis (Grantham) meet their doom and the bad guys get what's coming to them, leaving those who survived to wallow in the aftermath.

Putting the lofty inspirational Bergman and The Virgin Spring (1960) by way of the Tate-Labianca murders to the side, this nasty little exercise in guerrilla and pseudo-documentary filmmaking can be seen or distilled as a metaphor on many levels: as a final, scathing indictment on the failures of the 1960s counterculture movement -- Krug (Hess) and Weasel (Lincoln) are definitely anti-establishment; Junior (Sheffler) dropped out, tuned-in and burnt out; and Sadie (Rain) is "free love" gone horribly, horribly wrong; or, you can read it as bringing the reality of the Vietnam War home (-- the bloody and lingering deaths), and dumping it in the audiences’ lap by way of the Collingwoods; or, the complete and utter destruction of the classic Nuclear Family -- though I think Craven handled that better in The Hills Have Eyes (1977); or, if you're so inclined, you can take it at face value as an unabashed and unrepentant fright flick.

Yeah. Seems as filming progressed, everyone involved from the unknown cast (-- except in Porn circles, that is), to the amateur film crew, realized against all odds they were creating something a little loftier than originally intended; by design or by accident is up for debate, but the film soon changed course as the porn elements were whittled away to concentrate solely on the role-reversal plot and the horrific elements of the film. And though I think Last House on the Left is most effective in the dreadful humiliation scenes, the protracted death of Phyllis -- from her near escape, to the jump-scare in the cemetery, to her eventual disembowelment -- is one of the nastiest successions of cinematic gut-punches committed to film.

Kudos to actress Lucy Grantham for that tough, tough scene. Equal kudos to Sandra Peabody (billed here as Mari Cassell), who walked off the picture due to the “method acting” of her attackers and had to be convinced to come back, pulling off her own harrowing enough and truly disheartening demise. And while we're handing out compliments, I know everyone points out David Hess' performance as the vile Krug as being the ultimate cinematic degenerate, but it's the S.B.D. approach of Fred Lincoln's Weasel that really gives me the creeps. Lincoln was one of those participants who was well versed in the Adult Film Industry of NYC both directing (310), producing (42), and acting (64), and his contributions to the finished film beyond his performance should not be underestimated, providing stunts and staging tips for several gags and murder set-pieces.

Once completed, the MPAA shit a brick and slapped the film with an X-Rating. Hoping for a wider R-rated release, Craven and Cunningham removed ten minutes of footage, and then 20 more minutes, but still no dice. Fed up, as the legend goes, Craven put all the excised footage back in and then, through subterfuge and help from a friend at the MPAA, slapped faux documentation on the finished print, saying it was Rated R and released the film, essentially, unrated. But even in this raw form, upon its initial release under the alternate title Sex Crime of the Century, and later as Krug and Company, the film opened with a dull thud.

But leave it to the Hallmark publicity team to salvage things. Namely Lee Willis, who came up with a catchy, though nonsensical, alternative title and an insidiously infectious advertising campaign, hook, and jingle; and then, soon enough, the film both took off and set off a firestorm of controversy over its content -- the violence, the misogyny, and the perceived misanthropy of the filmmakers, that hasn't settled down even to this day.

In the end, there usually is no gray area with Last House on the Left. You either loved it -- or at least appreciated the movie for what it tried to do (like me), or you hated and condemned it for what it did. You either bought into the use of unfiltered violence to show our darker selves or you were completely screwed in the head and got your rocks off watching the rape and slaughter of two nubile young women. Of course, Hallmark took that controversy and added it to their press-kits and the box-office kept on booming.

Both Craven and Cunningham went on to lucrative careers in the field of legit horror movies but took two different paths to get there (-- though one should note after they both tried and died at more family-friendly genres). And you can see the differences in those styles in their first finished product. Here, Craven was more interested in the motivation and abnormal psychology of what scared us, peeling back the onion, layer by layer, to get down to our more basic, profane, and primal instincts and "feed the gators" -- to cop a phrase from Stephen King. Cunningham, on the other hand, was more of a spookshow huckster, content to just set the audience up, tease them along, and then knock them on their can.

And these differences in approach are personified in the climactic duel between Krug and Dr. Collingwood (Towers). Originally, Craven had wanted them to have a scalpel duel, with Collingwood attacking the major veins and arteries, leaving Krug to die a literal biblical death of a thousand cuts; but his producer thought, nah, saying a chainsaw added more bang and buzz for the buck. And I think if you look at the movie as a whole, the first half, where the deaths are unnervingly all too real, up to the point where the killers actually feel ashamed of what they've done, and no matter how hard they try, can't wash the blood off their hands, is all Craven. But the second half and the Collingwood's revenge, from the cartoony booby-traps, to Mrs. Collingwood (Carr) taking a bite out of crime, to the chainsaw fight is all Cunningham.

Which brings us to Arrow Video’s latest stellar release in a mounting, nay, staggering line of stellar releases: a 3-Disc limited edition Blu-Ray for Last House On the Left, which includes three different restored cuts of the film on the first two discs: an unrated cut, the Krug and Company cut, and the R-rated home video version. And the third disc features the complete original soundtrack for the film composed by star David Hess.

And like all Arrow releases, this set is packed with buku extras, including a brand new audio commentary by podcasters Bill Ackerman and Amanda Reyes along with two vintage commentaries; one with Craven and Cunningham, the other with stars Hess, Sheffler and Lincoln. Featurettes include the mini-docs, Still Standing: The Legacy of The Last House on The Left, Celluloid Crime of the Century, Scoring Last House on the Left , It's Only a Movie: The Making of The Last House on the Left, and Forbidden Footage, which focuses on the film’s most notorious scenes. Also included are new interviews with actor Marc Sheffler and makeup artist Anne Paul, and The Road Leads to Terror -- a brand new featurette revisiting the film's original shooting locations; also included are deleted scenes, outtakes and dailies, trailers, TV and radio spots, and the ubiquitous image galleries.

Bonus features on disc two include The Craven Touch -- a brand new featurette bringing together interviews with a number of Wes Craven’s collaborators, including Sean S. Cunningham, composer Charles Bernstein, producer Peter Locke, cinematographer Mark Irwin, and actress Amanda Wyss; Early Days and 'Night of Vengeance' where filmmaker Roy Frumkes remembers Wes Craven and Last House on the Left; Tales That'll Tear Your Heart Out, an unfinished Wes Craven short; and Krug Conquers England, which charts the theatrical tour of the first ever uncut screening of the film in the UK. The box-set also features lobby card reproductions, the film’s poster, and a limited edition 60-page booklet featuring new writing on the film by author Stephen Thrower, making this release a near definitive look at this seminal horror film. The boxset streets in a couple weeks on July 3rd. So go. Buy this. NOW!

Other Points of Interest:

Newspaper ads for Last House on the Left at the Morgue.  

Buy Last House On the Left at Arrow Video. 

Buy Last House On the Left at Amazon.

Last House on the Left (1972) Lobster Enterprises :: Sean S. Cunningham Films :: The Night Co. :: Hallmark Releasing / P: Sean S. Cunningham / AP: Katherine D’Amato / D: Wes Craven / W: Wes Craven / C: Victor Hurwitz / E: Wes Craven / M: David Hess / S: Sandra Peabody, Lucy Grantham, David Hess, Fred Lincoln, Jeramie Rain, Marc Sheffler, Richard Towers, Cynthia Carr

Recommendations :: Arrow Video's The Bloodthirsty Trilogy Boxset: The Galloping Ghoul Goes to Japan in Michio Yamamoto’s The Vampire Doll (1970)

Our strange and sinister little bugaboo tale of horror begins with a young man named Kazuhiko Sagawa (Nakamura) traveling way out into the county to meet up with his fiance, Yuko Nonomura (Kobayashi), at her secluded ancestral homestead to officially announce their engagement. Once there, Sagawa meets Yuko’s widowed mother, Shidu (Minakaze), and her rather creepy handyman, Genzo (Takashina), who have some rather sad news for him.

It seems Yuko was killed nearly a week ago when her car was buried in a mudslide. And to make this even more awkward, Yuko never got around to mentioning her boyfriend. Completely devastated, Sagawa is allowed to spend the night at the old mansion, whose lights seem to have gone out since Yuko’s death if you know what I mean. And later that night, as Sagawa struggles through the grieving process, he hears a woman sobbing -- a woman who sounds a lot like Yuko. Thinking she might still be alive, a desperate Sagawa starts to search the house and grounds, trying to trace that sobbing back to its source. And then, after unearthing several cryptic clues, Sagawa, much to his regret, finds what he’d been searching for...

Perhaps inspired by the huge success of the imported British and American horror films of the 1960s, Toho Studios decided to give director Michio Yamamoto the green-light to try and cash-in on this trend in Japan. And to my eyes, not only was Hammer Horror and Roger Corman’s Poe cycle an influence on the resulting trio of pictures, but a huge nod also goes to the preternatural American soap opera, Dark Shadows (1966-1971), where executive producer Dan Curtis plucked Gothic horrors from the past and dropped them down in the middle of these modern times; most notably the introduction of the vampire Barnabas Collins.

Thus, director Michio Yamamoto’s Yureiyashiki No Kyofu: Chi O Suu Ningyoo (Fear In The Ghost House: The Bloodsucking Doll) -- a/k/a The Vampire Doll (1970) would be Toho’s first attempt at an Anglo-centric horror story and it really is quite effective in the thrills and chills department. And if nothing else, the film shows what was always missing from those old Hammer Dracula movies: some righteous Toho arterial spray when several jugulars are severed by our villainess -- but is it a real vampire behind this bloodshed as the title would suggest?

Well, see, that’s all part of the unwinding mystery as Yamamoto also gives a few nods to Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) as he pulls the rug out from under us as whom we assume to be the hero of the piece disappears at the end of the first act (-- and it’s safe to assume he is no longer with us). Thus, The Vampire Doll reloads as Sagawa’s sister, Keiko (Matsuo), and her boyfriend, Hiroshi (Nakao), worried that they haven’t heard from him in quite some time, trace the missing man’s last known whereabouts back to the Nonomura’s palatial estate. From there, the couple start unraveling an intricate mystery and uncover several abhorrent family skeletons that reveal the fate of Sagawa and the undeniable truth that, somehow, Yuko is back from the dead and is seeking revenge on the living.

As to what the reason for all that vengeful throat-slashing is, well, I’m not in the spoiling mood because, dammit, this film earned those twists and turns -- especially that last one, and you owe it to yourself to track this one down and see it for yourself. And now, that’s a helluva lot easier than it used to be thanks to Arrow Video’s new The Bloodthirsty Trilogy boxset, which includes The Vampire Doll along with Yamamoto’s Lake of Dracula (1971) and Evil of Dracula (1975), which, alas, I did not get screeners for. But! If they’re even half as good as this first entry, I will not regret the purchase I just made on Amazon. Hell, it’s worth the price for this entry alone.

For it is kind of funky to see these old school trappings -- violent thunderstorms, haunted mansions, creaking doors, cobwebs, and creepy caretakers, mashed up with the usual Toho stock actors and sound-effects, of which I’ve only seen in a ton of Godzilla movies. (The film was even produced by longtime Godzilla producer, Tomoyuki Tanaka.) The film is long on atmosphere and style and, yes, a few Japanese horror tropes are mixed in -- Yuko is by no means a classical vampire but is just as creepy, but this concoction works remarkable well. And all of it is glued together by Riichiro Manabe’s nerve-wracking and highly dissonant soundtrack.

Add it all up and we’ve got an excellent Japanese spin on foreign film tropes on things that go bump in the night and tend to bite back. And before this screener showed up, I had no idea these three films even existed. That’s on me. Now, with this wonderful boxset readily available, if you haven’t heard of or seen them yet, well, then, that’s now on you. Go. Buy this. Now! 

Buy The Bloodthirsty Trilogy at Arrow Video. 

Buy The Bloodthirsty Trilogy at Amazon. 

The Vampire Doll (1970) Toho Company / P: Fumio Tanaka, Tomoyuki Tanaka / D: Michio Yamamoto / W: Hiroshi Nagano, Ei Ogawa / C: Kazutami Hara / E: Kôichi Iwashita / M: Riichirô Manabe / S: Kayo Matsuo, Akira Nakao, Atsuo Nakamura, Yukiko Kobayashi, Yôko Minakaze, Kaku Takashina

There's Always Room for Giall-O :: Murder Never Looked So Good in Arrow Video's Dual Release of Dario Argento's The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970) and Cat o' Nine Tails (1971)

Suffering from a terminal case of writer’s block, author Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante) goes for a post-midnight stroll in the darkened, labyrinthine streets of Rome to try and clear this mental logjam. Currently living abroad with his girlfriend, Julia (Suzy Kendall), a frustrated Dalmas is ready to chuck it all and just return home to America but his ruminations are suddenly and violently interrupted when his attention is drawn to an art gallery -- more specifically, what appears to be an attempted murder on the other side of a large picture window. Moving to help the victim, a woman, currently fighting for her life against a black-gloved and raincoat adorned assailant, whose face we never see, Dalmas winds up stuck between two panes of display glass and can only watch helplessly as the wily killer presses his attack.

Luckily, though trapped, the author raises enough of a ruckus to scare the killer away, saving Monica Ranieri (Renzi), whose husband, Alberto (Raho), owns the gallery, from certain death. Deemed a material witness by Inspector Morosini (Salerno), Dalmas’ passport is confiscated, forcing him to stay put and become a reluctant part of the investigation into a most probable serial killer, who has been murdering a string of women all across the city. Haunted by what he saw, and certain he is mentally blocking some vital clue witnessed during the attack -- lost in the confusion and adrenaline rush of coming to the rescue, Dalmas soon launches his own investigation to maybe help jog this elusive memory, which leads to a curio shop where one of the killer’s victims used to work, where he learns the last thing she sold was a disturbing painting featuring a man in a raincoat viciously murdering a young woman.

But this lead soon fizzles, allowing Dalmas to return to his flat just in time to save Julia from the killer, who once again escapes unidentified. Then, several more clues lead them back to the art gallery, where Monica is once again fighting for her life -- this time with her husband, who winds up falling off the roof as he was pursued by the police. But before he dies, Ranieri confesses to all the murders. And once that’s seemingly settled, Dalmas returns home to a darkened flat and makes a grisly discovery. And with this shock, he also finally remembers what he saw that first night -- more like misinterpreted, but it might already be too late for him, and for Julia, as the real killer finally reveals their true identity...

Like a lot of famous filmmakers, Dario Argento’s love affair and storied career in moving pictures began life as a film critic. Soon switching sides, Argento officially broke into film production as a screenwriter; most notably teaming up with Bernardo Bertolucci on the script for Sergio Leone’s classic spaghetti western, Once Upon a Time in the West (1968). And it was Bertolucci who gave Argento a copy of Fredric Brown’s novel, The Screaming Mimi, for which Argento wrote a spec-script for, even though the novel had already been adapted once before by Gerd Oswald as Screaming Mimi (1958).

In the novel, a killer known as The Ripper has been terrorizing the city of Chicago for months. Enter Bill Sweeney, ace reporter and ace lush, who manages to get his act sobered-up long enough to help the only surviving victim -- Virginia, an exotic dancer, who was saved by persons unknown, who shot the killer before he could stab her to death. (“Ripper vs. Stripper!” the promos for Columbia screamed.) But even with the killer dead, more bodies keep piling up and most clues point to the traumatized Virginia and her repressed memories being the killer until Sweeney finds the linking clue, a contorted statue of a screaming woman (--hence, the Screaming Mimi), which points the guilty finger elsewhere. Oswald’s adaptation is kind of amazing in a bawdy good-bad way, with Anita Ekberg in the title role and Gypsy Rose Lee as her boss at the strip club. And in both the novel and the film, you can kinda see the seeds and characters that germinated and bloomed in Argento’s “unofficial” adaptation, The Bird With the Crystal Plumage (1970).

Argento wrote the script in just five days, and originally, Artur Brauner wanted Terence Young -- who had helmed the first three James Bond films, to direct for his Central Cinema Company (CCC). But when he proved unavailable (or not interested), the film’s producer, Salvatore Argento, in perhaps a fit of nepotism, or perhaps not, got Brauner to agree to let his son, Dario, direct his own script -- a decision Brauner would come to regret once filming commenced. Not liking what he saw in the dailies, Brauner was ready to kick the novice director off the picture altogether but fate intervened when, as the legend goes, the elder Argento went to fight for his son’s job and found Brauner’s secretary visibly shaken. Seems she had seen the same footage but found it terrifying and extremely unsettling. And when his new star witness confessed this to her boss, the younger Argento kept the job and finished the film with an assist from noted cinematographer, Vittorio Storaro -- Apocalypse Now (1979), The Last Emperor (1987), in just under six weeks.

Now, the title, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, comes into play when the killer keeps calling and tormenting Dalmas (-- played by Musante, a method actor of the highest order, whose constant motivational pestering drove his director a little nuts), who always hears a strange, cricket-like noises in the background, which the police later identify as the call of a rare Siberian bird, whose “diaphanous feathers” glint like crystal. And it’s this vital clue that finally gives them the killer’s home and, eventually, their identity after an extremely harrowing, slightly sado-masochistic, and one downright helluva climax.

Upon its release, with its intoxicating production design, blunt violence, and a pulse-pounding and seductive score by Ennio Morricone, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage proved a smash success in Italy -- allegedly playing in a certain theater in Milan for three and half years straight. It also did surprisingly well in other countries, including the United States, where it had both box-office success and a positive critical response. This, of course, helped revitalize the gialli -- a certain style of Continental genre film that concerned byzantine plots, massive body counts, violence, and sex, all wrapped up in a candy colored, pop-art shell. And of this type, Argento would prove to be the master, and so, other studios were soon clamoring to have him do a follow up feature for them.

And so, Argento obliged with Cat o’ Nine Tails (1971), a similar but slightly more grounded thriller as Franco "Cookie" Arnò (Karl Malden), an elderly blind puzzle-maker with an ear for intrigue, is out for a night-time stroll with his young niece, Lori (Cinzia De Carolis). And while he can’t see, Cookie’s other senses are finely attuned, allowing him to overhear an argumentative conversation between two people in a parked car concerning a blackmail scheme. And once the pedestrians have cleared off, the driver gets out and breaks into a nearby medical complex that houses the Terzi Institute.

The next day, ace reporter Carlo Giordani (James Fanciscus) is on the scene to cover the break-in, runs into Cookie, and fills him in on what happened. Then, these two cross-paths again when a Dr. Calabresi (Carlo Alighiero), an employee of the Institute, dies quite horrifically when he falls in front of a moving train. Seems Cookie has a nose for mysteries and feels the break-in and the death might be connected to something bigger. Giordani wrote the article about what is being deemed an accidental death, complete with gruesome pre- and post-mortem pictures courtesy of a paparazzo. But on Cookie’s suggestion, Giordani checks with the photographer and discovers the photo had been cropped and the full picture shows someone off camera most likely pushed the victim onto the tracks. However, when these amateur sleuths arrive at the photographer’s apartment for a closer look they find him strangled to death and all the photos and negatives of the incident gone.

Here, Cookie and Giordani officially join forces to untangle this sticky web of intrigue, with the reporter going to see the owner of the Institute, Fulvio Terzi (Tino Carraro), to talk about the death of his colleague. He also meets Terzi’s daughter, Anna (Catherine Spaak), and goes for a ride. And romantic sparks fly during a harrowing chase sequence when Giordani realizes the police are tailing them -- as to which one they are actually following, well, that’s up to the audience. Meanwhile, Cookie and Lori go to visit the late Calabresi’s fiance, Bianca (Rada Rassimov), curious if she knows if anyone wanted him dead. She knows he was the one who broke into the institute but denies any knowledge, but then later discovers a slip of paper that reveals what Calabresi stole as blackmail material. She hides the note inside her locket and agrees to reveal its contents to Cookie and Giordani but will only do so in person. Too bad the killer got to her first, but whoever it was they failed to find the incriminating evidence.

Meanwhile, further digging shows the Terzi Institute was working in eugenics -- more specifically, chromosome alteration via a new miracle drug in service of the long debunked theory that those with an extra Y-chromosome in their genetic make-up were prone to violent and criminal tendencies. Meantime, as our heroes try to piece all the seemingly unconnected clues and leads into a coherent theory, the killer, thinking Bianca might have already given them the damning evidence, and after failing to kill them both, sets another trap for them at the cemetery as they are lured to Bianca’s crypt in search of the pivotal note, thinking it might be buried with her since the police could find no trace of it. And while the masked killer gets away with the note and destroys it, Giordani manages to critically stab him during their struggle. But while those two are safe, the same cannot be said for young Lori, who suddenly finds herself in the wounded and desperate killer’s clutches...

I’d say until the release of Do You Like Hitchcock? (2005), Cat o' Nine Tails (1971) was probably Argento's most conventional thriller. Well, "conventional" might not be the right word as I read back through that summation of the simple yet highly convoluted plot thus far and smile ruefully, knowing I have barely scratched the surface and am omitting a ton of plot points, twists and knots in several overlapping story threads as our mismatched trio of sleuths try to unravel the mystery. Once again, the title actually refers to something in the movie; a whip with nine lashes, which Cookie alludes to, comparing their nine clues that make no sense separately but when placed together can solve the mystery once they untangle them.

Despite the slightly lethargic pace and those myriad false leads and red-herrings as they make their way down a trail of murder, incest, and money-grabs, I really do like this film a lot, honest, but it’s mostly due to the usual visual and audio noise of Argento and the excellent chemistry between the three leads -- and I would’ve loved to have seen the mystery solving team of Malden, Franciscus and Carolis franchise out for more adventures -- but the film's director doesn't really agree with me. Apparently, this is Argento’s least favored film, feeling it was too conventional -- too American, which I find odd because after the success of his first unconventional thriller, Cat o’ Nine Tails completely failed to ignite Stateside.

As I said, the plot definitely could’ve used some tightening up because as like with all gialli the suspect and motive our protagonists are doggedly chasing down proves to be the wrong one. And like with all of his films, Argento is once more concerned with being stylistic over sweating the dramatic elements of the plot. Yeah. This round, Argento definitely seemed more focused on the look of the film, which is gorgeous, and employing some wild editing techniques, giving us the normal feast for the eyes while not making our brains hurt as the plot pretzels itself like it did later with the likes of Deep Red (1975) or Tenebre (1982), proving once again sometimes less is more as the killer is finally identified and Lori is saved from certain death by some kick-ass heroics from my m’man, Franciscus.

Now, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage and Cat o’ Nine Tails are, of course, parts one and two of Argento’s “Animal Trilogy” along with Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1971). And one can only hope that someday the fine folks at Arrow Films can secure the rights to that final feature -- judging by what we get from their recent releases of the first two films. Both have been given a brand new 4K upgraden, and both look amazing. The colors just really pop off these things. Both are also available to watch in English or Italian (with subtitles). And it’s Arrow, so of course they’re both jam-packed with bonus features.

On Bird you get a new audio commentary by Troy Howarth, author of So Deadly, So Perverse: 50 Years of Italian Giallo Films; a new visual essay on the cinema of Dario Argento, The Power of Perception, by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, author of Devil’s Advocates: Suspiria and Rape-Revenge Films: A Critical Study; along with analysis by film critic Kat Ellinger; and brand new interviews with Argento and actor Gildo Di Marco. The release also comes with 6 lobby card reproductions and a limited 60-page booklet illustrated by Matthew Griffin, featuring an appreciation of the film by Michael Mackenzie and new writing by Howard Hughes and Jack Seabrook.

The big highlight on the Cat release is a fantastic audio commentary by critics Alan Jones and Kim Newman -- I could listen to those two talk film all day and night long. There’s also another interview with Argento, co-writer Dardano Sacchetti, production manager Angelo Iacono, and actress Cinzia De Carolis, who played young Lori. (Alas, there was a glitch on the screener I received so I could not see this last interview but I understand it has since been rectified.) Here, you also get a two-sided poster, plus four lobby card reproductions; and if you order quick you’ll get a limited edition booklet illustrated by Matt Griffin, featuring an essay on the film by Dario Argento, and new writing by Barry Forshaw, Troy Howarth and Howard Hughes.

Now I know Argento has his “style over substance” haters and detractors out there but I’m not one of them. I do, however, think the old maestro has kind of lost his touch a bit -- I think he’s been scuffling pretty badly since the likes of Opera (1987) and The Stendhal Syndrome (1996), and the less said about The Phantom of the Opera (1998) and Giallo (2009) the better. But you don’t have to worry about any of that, here, with these two fantastic releases.

Buy The Bird with the Crystal Plumage:

At Amazon :: At Arrow Films

Buy The Cat o' Nine Tails:

At Amazon :: At Arrow Films

The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970) Central Cinema Company Film (CCC) :: Glazier :: Seda Spettacoli :: UMC Features / EP: Artur Brauner / P: Salvatore Argento / D: Dario Argento / W: Dario Argento, Fredric Brown (Novel) / C: Vittorio Storaro / E: Franco Fraticelli / M: Ennio Morricone / S: Tony Musante, Suzy Kendall, Enrico Maria Salerno, Eva Renzi, Umberto Raho

The Cat o' Nine Tails (1971) Seda Spettacoli :: Terra-Filmkunst :: Labrador Films :: National General Pictures / P: Salvatore Argento / D: Dario Argento / W: Dario Argento, Luigi Collo, Dardano Sacchetti, Bryan Edgar Wallace / C: Erico Menczer/ E: Cesarina Casini, Sergio Fraticelli / M: Ennio Morricone / S: James Franciscus, Karl Malden, Catherine Spaak, Cinzia De Carolis, Rada Rassimov