The Doll Of Satan (1969)

A middle class couple (Jack & Eizabeth) arrives to the old French castle to partake in a reading of the last will of young lady's uncle, just to find out he left her these ancient premises in inheritance. Overwhelmed by castle's bizarre aura they rather choose to enjoy themeselves in a beautiful countryside casually staring to discover it's striking nicety. Soon enough they are to find out, that their new home has been an object of a pending purchase offer, made by a local businessman. When they encounter this gentleman during a walk through the forest, he mentions that a deal is still on the table, waiting to be reconsidered by the new owner. Suddenly strange things start to happen with a young lady being a centre of the brutal game, whose puppet masters are nearer than she expects.

Although very appealing, the title of this rare giallo flick has nothing to do with the plot as satan's horns are virtually absent. Instead, the movie carries a strong resemblance to Roger Corman's gothic horrors, especially as set production is concerned. While plot evolves, it's gothic wings are being cut down a little in favour of a cheesy espionage spoof. In comparison with other gialli of the late 60's, that one has minor interest in exploiting middle class games, nudity or even Italian alta moda. Acting is not it's strongest side either, but that's at least counterweighted by light fetish touch to scenes of morbid visions, where main character is involved. We even get a short peek at her nipples and they're not too bad. Only magnet here is a dressed, female beauty – blonde one is a victim while brunette one is the crook and on the top we get another one, brown-haired daredevil – a secret agent.

What can I say about Ferruccio Casapinta's "The Doll Of Satan" in the end? It can barely provoke a grimace on your face and it's definitely not funny in a bad way other cult B-movies are. Nothing more than a full-length eurospy gibberish dressed in gothic trimmings with subpar script and action as askew as it's practically possible. That's true it's rare and you won't find an official release, but I wouldn't mind not having it in my collection as it's value is next to none. A dull pot boiler I'm afraid, blinking dramatically at the seekers of rare Italian gialli. But if you're really into the genre, there are other yummy rarities worth grabbing and only if you are the most adamant completist, you might consider giving it a go. Otherwise, stay clear of this movie, cause you're gonna curse the producers and the place, where you've bought it.

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For Y'ur Height Only (1981)

When Corman's New World pictures eventully cut their ties with Filipino film industry in the beginning of the 80's due to hazards of social turmoil in the country, there were couple of native directors, who picked up exactly where Americans left off. One of these brave lads was Eddie Nickart, who gained his experience working with Eddie Romero, Jack Hill and Joe Dante on their low-budget goodies. Soon, he was to blow the lid off with one of the wackiest exploitation productions ever made, which not only marked the limit of going over the top on the screen, but eventually became a big cult classic in the exploitation fandom. This outstanding example of B-movie sick fantasy features amazing Weng Weng as 3 feet tall secret agent 00, sex machine and martial arts adept in one! Although it was gross even for exploitation standards, Weng Weng with his natural charisma and large spirit in small body made it a real killer giving a brand new meaning to "loved it" sentence.

Forget about James Bond, forget about A-Team or Indiana Jones, forget even about all these vintage ass-kickers like Billy Jack, Django or evil bikers from „Satan's Sadists” as with agent 00 you're gonna go for a ride risking death by massive laugh attack. This spysploitation masterpiece is one of these pictures, where every scene is precious instantly screwing your frontal lobe. Weng Weng has the license to kill and stomps on the crooks, thugs and punks of any sort using his deadly martial arts skills, high-tech gadgets like a flying pork pie hat, ring with a poison detector or stock jet pack, apparently made out of hoover pipes and a fire extinguisher. He's short, but he's a real badass and that definitely gives him the edge. He can run between your legs or squat in the bushes, jumping out like a grasshopper in the most unexpected moment just to finish your miserable life with three slaps and a kick. You never know where Weng Weng is hiding and he might be after you just now as his natural hunting instinct cannot be tricked!



Did you ever see a movie, where screenplay is so bad, that it doesn't even make sense for a half-brainer? Well, you got it here, except this movie is so wildly entertaining, that it stops being any problem. Low-budget creativity has probably never given birth to anything likewise brilliant, excluding modern campy imitations. Weng Weng is the king of the streets and his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes. He's strolls a bit like Shaft, however he's much shorter and uses customized, awesome machine guns matching his size. He's Japanese sword expert too and he won't leave any chances in a duel cutting and thrusting to kill... but after heavy day he likes to hang out in a local disco den downing coca-cola bottles to the rhythms of Salsoul Orchestra. The way he looks in these innocent moments, doesn't reflect who he is at all – a 3 feet tall death machine! Can you dig that potential?

"For Y'ur Height Only" is a wonderful movie on many levels and remains killing fun even after multiple watching (which I strongly advise). It's upside is a combination of low-budget action solutions like people shooting from umbrellas or speaking to the blinking mirror and cheesy set production utilizing local entertainment park, scruffy disco club, cheap hotels and all the other low-profile Filipino landmarks. Without these contrasting qualities, that flick would probably never break through like it did, leaving a smoking hole in the brain of every grindhouse cinema addict, who watched it after sucking on a bong and downing six pack just to be blown off the couch and pass the word. In fact, you cannot really stay unshaken by lines like: "You're such a little guy, very petit like a potato" or scenes where Weng Weng shows off his bravado by flying on the umbrella from 5th floor, landing on the top of a car. These are genuine B-movie nuggets, which simply cannot stay overlooked, so if you don't know what flicks with Weng Weng are about, you definitely cannot afford missing the opportunity to seriously and irreversibly fry your brain.

The President's Analyst (1967)

60’s not only paved the way for violent bursting gangster cinema and higly engaging auteur dramas tracking the widening generation crack, but also gave birth to a new sort of comedies playing or spoofing on middle class lifestyle, conservative beliefs and finally on their motherland – the counterculture. A reason inviting new forms was rapidly transforming market itself, into which big Hollywood productions suddenly couldn’t tap no more. When high budget lollipop musicals and melodramas were losing money, studio moguls were desperate to replace them with anything, that would keep them going, hence they were accepting ideas, which before would be turned down without even reading the script.

"The President’s Analyst" was one of these movies and although accepted for production by Paramount – a half-independent studio for Hollywood standards at that time – it was still subversive enough to make high-rolling fatties nervous. Written and directed by Theodore J. Flicker, till that time a well doing TV craftsman, it boiled up a whole range of creative ideas, that in theory would fry rebellious brains of Baby Boomers entering the cinema. However, soon after kicking off the production, reality shock sobered up the artist when FBI demanded their name to be dropped from the movie concerned about their image – since 1963 they were slowly becoming one of the most hated American institutions among the hipsters, acid heads and leftists, commonly accused of messing up with JFK kill. The names of key agencies in the script were hence replaced by silly sounding, but still effective in direct alluding – FBR and CBR.



Nevertheless, this exceptionally funny, off-beat comedy still managed to come across with it’s agenda standing out as one of the best genre movies of it’s time, which though initially flopped, developed a real cult with time. The plot concerns sudden shift in Dr. Schaefer’s life – a genuine New York psychiatrist played by James Coburn, strongly attached to his academic methods. He’s just passed a dilligence rundown, ordered by FBR and CBR, which made him effectively the official US president’s psychoanalyst. He promptly moves to Washington to start his new assignment, but after short period of high stress on-call work, due to being privy to the biggest national secrets he becomes extremly edgy and suspicious of everything around him developing heavy paranoia. Eventually he suffers a nervous breakdown and flees the capital with randomly met "typical American family". He heads to East Coast fearing for his life, which proves to be justified as FBR, CBR and dozen of other foreign intelligence agencies have just made him the most valuable man in the world by opening a hunt!

That’s when the movie blows into a whimsical and soaring social satire as Dr. Schaefer is jumped at the front of NY restaurant by secret agents and runs for his life passing casually Cafe Wha? and getting into the near parked flower power van. Hippies – acted by obscure psychedelic group Clear Light – become a perfect cover introducing him to the countercultural lifestyle soaked in weed, acid and rock music. These beautiful scenes with Clear Light are a real find for 60’s psych fans as the group recorded only one brilliant album for Elektra Records in late 1967 disbanding shortly afterwards, therefore their footage is extremly hard to find. There in fact we get to feed on 60’s culture exploits being loaded up with back-to-earth cliches, psychedelic wisdom and LSD freak-out scenes, all flashing through well built underground vs. overground undercurrent, which will fuel the rest of the movie with light-hearted, but hip wit.



As the intrigue carries on, we read this old anarchistic truth in "The President’s Analyst" – competition often gets in the way of itself, especially in killing business – when Dr. Schaefer luckily saves his life. In the end he’s gonna combat forces of repression using his natural talent for telling people the truth and effectively winning their side. Even if they are secret agents, they still need to be treated, which helps to unroot the seed of ultimate technocracy being planted behind the closed door by The Phone Company – a bizarre symbol of business machinery looking up to depersonalizing a free individual – when their head quarter is tactically wrecked by the doctor and his patients-friends… but the question remains, for how long it’s gonna stop the oppressors?

This terrific flick stands as one of the most hilarious 60’s projects by any standards, which gently lines up with such comedies as "I Love You Alice B. Toklas" (1968), "The Party" (1968), "The Magic Christian" (1971), but might be treated as a perfect companion for hippiesploitation flicks like "Wild In The Streets" (1968) or psychedelic sci-fi spoofs like "Barbarella" (1968) as well. No doubt it’s an artifact of it’s time, but very prophetic in pointing at all the side effects of modern political order. A must-see indeed!

Zeta One (1969)

It’s hard to drop even a line about any classic exploitation movie without a certain distance. I suppose it’s kind of a necessary presumption to take that before you start watching this particular (as it ought to be), newly bought, obscure gem, it’s plot will be bland, acting not very refined, photography ridiculous and special effects as cheap as it takes. Well, welcome to B-movie world, which you visit only if you’re stoned or determined enough, because only then you can pull it together. This applies to "Zeta One" as well, so sit back and chill out first, please.

60’s were definitely faddish times! Artistic and financial creativity in the field of filmmaking gave birth to a lot of odd artifacts, which dumped by distributors after couple of screenings were shelved or stored by directors themselves, but with time a whole culture arose around it. Call it "cult movie culture", "digging in obscurities" or "rarity seeking", but some people just find a pure pleasure in discovering something, that not many have seen, even if it’s as bad as "Astro Zombies" (1968) or "The Hellcats" (1967). Fortunately, "Zeta One" is an excellent movie in it’s class. A bizarre mix of spy and sexsploitation loosely whooping up pop sci-fi themes with not the worst acting you’ll ever see and definitely hot chicks. This strictly British nugget was shot mostly in Camden Studios, in London while the capital wast still swingin’.



We embrace the plot in a form of retrospection. Our dear storyteller is a secret agent James Word, who just accomplished the most amazing assignment you will ever hear about. By the will of Her Majesty The Queen he’s been ordered to figure out what a notorious villain – Major Bourdon had been up to making his moves around the town, dropping a puzzle word Zeta and finally meeting North London stripteaser. As the action picks up we find out that he’s been looking for mysterious Zeta One – another dimension space station, inhabited only by women, who were beforehand kidnapped in different countries and brainwashed to serve their beautiful blonde queen, Zeta. As a matter of fact, Major Bourdon has a serious beef with her trying by all means to end this oasis of feminine power, hence we are thrilled to watch their all out war.

As I noticed at first, there’s no really need to care about a screenplay here as this film has little to none artistic quality (excuse me, did I really say it?). Director kept a strong sense of aesthetics instead, editing his work into colourful bricolage of topless chicks, mod clothing, absurd action scenes and occasional psychedelic effects like feminine, naked body floating on a dynamically splashing background (certainly, not without a motive). We even get James Word playing strip poker and parading in wellies, a whole basket of goodies indeed. In fact, why not indulge and sip a bit of this space-sex-spy cocktail, which by the way has a great fusion soundtrack? And finally there’s an important note for you – vintage nudes’ hunters, that waving tits are more often on than off here and some are delicious ones. After all this is one of the most eccentric 60’s exploitation pictures and a very funny one, so don’t hesitate too much if you like that kind of immagination.